K.I.S.S.

When we don't want to deal with things as they are, we convolute them. Some add a touch of drama, distancing themselves even more.  It is really simple to face up to what is.

We need to decrease our energy consumption.  There isn't any way around it.  We need less people, too.  Sure, there are lots of ways to create MORE energy tools.  We can build solar panels, wind turbines, wave turbines but we are creating MORE stuff.

Now some areas of our world have natural resources in abundance.  This includes water and oil.  But it still doesn't solve the dilema.  This destroys natural resources. Selling water and oil also includes a transportation footprint. In many locales you can not transport wildlife from one place to another.  You can't  fell trees and dump them somewhere else.  Why you ask?  It alters the eco-system.  It causes transportation of diseases.  Kind of makes sense, doesn't it?

Morever, transporting anything isn't keeping those places sustainable.  And, it is damaging our environment. Just look at the incidence of cancer, asthma and a variety of other environmentally-induced diseases. Do we really need more studies to tell us what we already know? We are making ourselves sick.  Worse, we are poisoning ourselves and causing unbearable human suffering.  Ultimately...death.

Another thing.  "Green" isn't always green.  Did you really believe it is?  Kashi has been cited for not using organic products.  The list goes on.  Green can be a wonderful thing if the owner/producers do the right thing and tell the truth.  My personal pet peeve is the number of sheets on toilet tissue.   This is one of my favorite companies.  I enjoy their products immensely. Tell me what is green about producing scant rolls of toilet tissue in lieu of 1,000 sheets.  Let's talk carbon footprint here. Investigate the companies whose products you consume.  Write about them, go to the media, put them on Facebook.  Green should also be cheaper because there are supposedly no 'add'itives in them.

Let's keep it simple.

Even Hollywood

Even Hollywood sells out!

C'mon.  Hiring Bill Clinton and a few well positioned influential types to affect who wins an Oscar tonight.  This makes me want to NEVER see another movie.  But then if people can be bought and sold so easily maybe they get just what they deserve.  They flatline.

Only in America are people so gullible.  Glued to the media, be it television, movies, Smart Phones,pcs, the newspapers.  When did you stop thinking for yourself?

It makes me sick when women are strutted down the red carpet only to have some mindless superficial type ask, "who are you wearing"?  Are we wearing people now.  I thought we wore animals.  That makes me sick, too.  The animals.  The people...well, they are cattle to the slaughter.  Good drone.  Good drone.

I'll take real movies.  The ones that uplift, make you laugh, showcase the areas we haven't fully polluted or destroyed. 

Robert Redford, you've always been my hero. I'm glad you never sold out.

It's Not My Job

It's not my job to subsidize your business.  Tourism, like other ventures has no right receiving taxpayer money.  If you want free enterprise do it yourself. How dare you use my dollars to support your business!

Our money is used to sell yet another war.  When will you care enough to stop this practice? It is interesting how this is justified and we buy it.

Interesting List of Taxes that exist today

TAXES:
Accounts Receivable Tax
Building Permit Tax
Capital Gains Tax
CDL license Tax
Cigarette Tax
Corporate Income Tax
Court Fines (indirect taxes)
Dog License Tax
Federal Income Tax
Federal Unemployment Tax (FUTA)
Fishing License Tax
Food License Tax
Fuel permit tax
Gasoline Tax (42 cents per gallon)
Hunting License Tax
Inheritance Tax Interest expense (tax on the money)
Inventory tax IRS Interest Charges (tax on top of tax)
IRS Penalties (tax on top of tax)
Liquor Tax
Local Income Tax
Luxury Taxes
Marriage License Tax
Medicare Tax
Property Tax
Real Estate Tax
Septic Permit Tax
Service Charge Taxes
Social Security Tax
Road Usage Taxes (Truckers)
Sales Taxes
Recreational Vehicle Tax
Road Toll Booth Taxes
School Tax
State Income Tax
State Unemployment Tax (SUTA)
Telephone federal excise tax
Telephone federal universal service fee tax
Telephone federal, state and
local surcharge taxes
Telephone minimum usage surcharge tax
Telephone recurring and non-recurring charges tax
Telephone state and local tax
Telephone usage charge tax
Toll Bridge Taxes
Toll Tunnel Taxes
Traffic Fines (indirect taxation)
Trailer Registration Tax
Utility Taxes
Vehicle License Registration Tax
Vehicle Sales Tax
Watercraft Registration Tax
Well Permit Tax

Workers Compensation Tax

COMMENTS:
"Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago and our nation was the most prosperous in the world, had absolutely no national debt, had the largest middle class in the world and only one parent had to work to support the family."

What happened?

Source: http://www.thepowerhour.com/news2/tax_list.htm

On Gentle Breezes

Early morning walks along the New Hampshire coastline, whether in snow or warmth are like peacocks displaying all their colorful splendor.  Maybe that is why I was drawn to the southwestern sun. To understand it.  To try to capture its likeness. To learn to look for subtleties.

But these colors belong to the New England coastline. 

Granite bursts out of the ground reminding us of an earlier time. When glaciers were everywhere.  Even killing off the natural earthworms. 

But to know the light is a gift.  Watching.  Understanding.  Being one with all that is.

Beyond the Breakers   by: George Sterling (1869-1926)

The world was full of the sound of a great wind out of the West, And the tracks of its feet were white on the trampled ocean's breast. And I said, "With the sea and wind I will mix my body and soul, Where the breath of the planet drives and the herded billows roll."   And down through the pines I went, to the shore-sands warm and white, Till I saw from the ocean's verge the gulls in shrieking flight-- Till the wind was sharp in my face, and pure and strong in its sweep From the smokeless dome of the world and a thousand leagues of the deep.   The breakers rose before me where the hard, wet sands were grey-- Each in its colored robe, fronting the newborn day; The singing waves of the sea, clean beyond all of clean, Beautiful, swift, alive, undulant, apple-green.   Who shall grapple with lions or wrestle with seraphim? Even so can the surf come forth in its power to him-- Legion crying to legion, hurled to the steadfast shore; Rampart answering rampart, where the flame-shaped summits roar.   And I flung me forth at their strength, at their might of motion and sound, Till the foam-bolts stung my brow and the foam-chains ringed me around, And the hissing ridges ran like dragons driven by gods-- Mad with the battle-cries and their unseen lashes and rods.   From fighting nostrils to feet the ocean clad me in cold, Tingling, thrilling and sweet, a raiment none could behold, As I rose with urging of arms to the shattered foam-crests' rain, To look far over the deep and sink from the wind again.   O hills of voices and snows, O valleys of sapphire and calm, That smote and wrenched and released to moments of respite and balm! Splendid, young and eternal, from bridals of wind and sea, Tho I sleep at last in your vaults, yet first ye shall war with me!   Furious, swift, they came, the pulse and surge of the deep, Rank on rank in their beauty, poised for the shore-ward leap, Lifting my form in crystal to gaze out over the West-- Grasping in sudden wrath at limbs and loins and breast.   Then was it as tho companions, godlike, alert, unseen, Swam under and at my sides, with sight unerring and keen, Touching, splashing and laughing (and I hear their laughter still), Where the foam shot sudden veils in the waters torn and chill.   And I shouted to them in kinship, in ocean ardor and love, Lifting an arm to the sun and the azure far above-- Mixing my voice with theirs and the sea-wind's lordly song-- Feeling them stir about me, the swimmers happy and strong.   Felt I not with them, the invisible at mirth, The winds and wonder of life, the thrill and union of earth? More intimate, more sure, for the sea's high loneliness, Than the blinded sages dream, or the land-bound people guess.   The great embrace of ocean was closer than love's can be; Its clasp was sharp on my limbs, yet went I supple and free. The breast of the deep unheaved as a mother's under a child-- Terrible, tender, strong, imperial, undefiled.   So for a space I lived with life intense and aware, Far from the human swarm and mortal folly and care-- I, the foam of earth, assoiled by the ocean-foam, I, the homeless of worlds, forgetting the dream of Home.   Yet in the end it was earth that called me in from the vast, Till the salt, wild waters boiled and the spray was thin on the blast, And the undertow swept out, laughing at strength like mine, Till I rode to shore on a wave that stung with its hurtled brine.

HACKED!

Your profile is one of the very best I have read. Love comes softly. It comes when we let our guard down, step out of the box and are still. It doesn't come with "I" messages; it comes with gentleness. Tenderness. It allows an unfolding. It doesn't snap its fingers and say produce all of these things "right from the start."

"Now as for the love comes softly section. I can't tell whether this is another admonishment to me, that I should let down my guard and step out of the box and not be so concerned about the "I." Or whether this is you to you. Because really your first note was about you--the "I"--not me or us and I think smiling rather than writing and being fairly impersonal even when you did write constitutes keeping the guard up hugely.

I would love to think this is your way of acknowledging that maybe the problem was your being too guarded. But honestly, I cannot remember the last time someone said to me, "You know, what you said was right." Most people our age seem too defensive to admit they made a mistake. It's all about saving face. And ego.

I would love to think my point was well-taken. That would be encouraging. But I won't make any assumption until you say that's what you meant."

In no way are my notes to you an admonishment. They are an observation from my heart. There is no right, there is no wrong. There is this and that.

If the intention to advertise ourselves on this dating site  is about love, then this tete et tete about matters other than love don't matter. Yes, the "I" is irrelevant. The "we" matters. Point most well taken.

It is sure a culture of fear on so many levels. Imagine a culture of community, nurturing and caring. An economy of love.

Last evening my account here was hacked. So much time was spent in re-writing this current profile today.
Seriously though, you are more than high maintenance.  And angry.  And self-righteous. I am plain exhausted.

I wish you ~ good day.

The Complication Of A Smile

 Humor is everywhere. We must remember the "fun" in dys"fun"ction.

As a single gal, I enjoy hearing about the dance of the peacock.  That primordial strutting on the runway to potentially secure a mate.  This cute little note from an man responding to a SMILE on an online dating service made me chuckle.  We do take ourselves a tad too serious sometimes.

"I applaud your paying for a subscription here, as I have. Most people who form-"smile" rather than write a pleasant personal note do so because they don't want to spend a few bucks, which I find odd and amusing (if not terribly auspicious for love). But you can write me directly, so why not take a few minutes, as I would.

Meantime, sure, from your "profile" it seems as if we're in the same general ballpark and would invite you to address some of the things in my ad, if you are so inclined."

I have to agree with this gentleman that those on the cheap (who mostly surf for babes on online dating service and don't want to pay for the opportunity to do so) are cheap of the heart.  But of course, paying for a service is no guarantee they aren't cheap in life, either.  But wait...there is more:

"It's funny, when we were Hippies, we complained about the Older Generation's impersonal form letters. Now that we're older, we'll send a form letter as shorthand for saying, "You sound like a warm and lovely person, but before I put some time into a response, would you mind looking at my ad to see if you would encourage me?"

My ad was equally about sustainable living and about love: how two people talk and listen, how they treat each other, what they share, how they make time, the nature of love and partnership in these near-End Times. I suppose I'm waiting for someone to respond to both. From your note, I don't have the sense you read my ad and said, "Wow, this sounds like a lovely man!" and perhaps I should wait for such a warm response."

Not knowing this character, I would surmise the fellow takes himself a tad too serious.  Imagine meeting on a first date?   This writer suspects he is looking for a more academic response.  Could a request for a curriculum vitae (CV) be in the next note?  It would sure be "fun" to find out!

But I would sure like to write back:

" That sounds like a lot of ego going on. When someone engages me with a note, I'm delighted to receive it. Very grateful, very appreciative. And I can't wait to see what develops.

Perhaps before you 'wait for such a warm response' you might want to give one. And yes, I did think this "sounds like a lovely man!"

And yes, I am sorry, very sorry in fact, that you are so angry.  Off to find more humorous moments.

Enjoy the day! 

Snow Falling On The Whites

Whistling, whirling winds.  Snow falling on white pines.

Night falls along the seacoast. Cardinals, Black-Capped Chickadees, Red-Breasted Nuthatch, Tufted Titmouse have turned in for the evening.  It's more than cold.  Plus forty mile per hour sent them into their habitats.

It isn't just cold outside.  Babs, forever the expert, demigogue of sorts, is bent over behind the coffee table.  Her floral cane is close.  Ranting about snow removal despite the fact her neighbors were trapped inside.  Evening at 7 a.m.

"It's okay.  They got here."

"At 7 a.m., you mean that is okay? We were trapped!"

The lawyer and his friend were quiet.  Nothing to be added to this assinine conversation.  We had all been there before.  Billy Bulle tossed in his usual negativity.  Louise called him down.  Again.

The wind continued to blow. The air in the room was clear.  For a while. Then the locomotive sounding gusts picked up.  A white out.

The fire blew red and cobalt ashes as the grand dame got closer.  At ninety, there was no way she would countenance anything, cept admonish Bulle.  We were more than tired of him.

One by one they cleared the room.  Left to their own devices.  Babs and Bulle.  Their names were more than fitting.

Janel smiled softly clearing the double doors.  She knew why she stayed away.  She liked that it was enjoyable if only for a short time. And loved her peace.

We Are The World, We Are The People

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9BNoNFKCBI

It was just 1985.  These musicians came together to produce a masterpiece:

Soloists (in order of appearance) Lionel Richie Stevie Wonder Paul Simon Kenny Rogers James Ingram Tina Turner Billy Joel Michael Jackson Diana Ross Dionne Warwick Willie Nelson Al Jarreau Bruce Springsteen Kenny Loggins Steve Perry Daryl Hall Huey Lewis Cyndi Lauper Kim Carnes Bob Dylan Ray Charles

Chorus (alphabetically)    Dan Aykroyd Harry Belafonte Lindsey Buckingham Mario Cipollina Johnny Colla Sheila E. Bob Geldof Bill Gibson Chris Hayes Sean Hopper Jackie Jackson La Toya Jackson Marlon Jackson Randy Jackson Tito Jackson Waylon Jennings Bette Midler John Oates Jeffrey Osborne Anita Pointer June Pointer Ruth Pointer Smokey Robinson

Band David Paich – synthesizers, musician Michael Boddicker – synthesizers, programming Paulinho da Costa – percussion Louis Johnson – bass Michael Omartian – keyboards Greg Phillinganes – keyboards John Robinson – drums

Now it is time to come together again to stop mountain top removal, end fracking, spraying of chemicals on our foodstuff, nuclear power plants, end genetically modified seed production.  We are the world. We are the people.

Boobs In Public

What's with the need to control female genitalia? It is only these so-called modern societies that issues with the human bodies.  Think of these rallies as honoring the fact that cancer hasn't claimed their breasts.  Perhaps if they put some effort into looking into why so many women are getting breast cancer instead of trying to hide them we could even call ourselves civilized. 


lhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/02/15/rep-rayne-brown-north-carolina-introduces-bill-criminalizing-nipple-exposure_n_2695720.html

What will these people do about wardrobe malfunctions?  Ban Super Bowls, concerts, Jennifer Lopez?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/news/wardrobe-malfunction/


Next these people will ban breast feeding in public.  Idiots!

You Are The One

Don't even look around.  There isn't any need.  There never was.  But you didn't know that.  No one did.  It is the world's, humanities...oldest secret.  

You are the one you've been waiting for.  

 

            Happy Valentine's Day!!!                              

The Hummingbird

Something to told me to go out to the garage
They had been there before
Frightened, trapped
Sometimes passed to the nether world
This time was different

Wedged between the stairs and the swirled cemeted cinderblock
It beckoned me
Please be alive
Please
I'm here

Immediately my hands felt
Its beating heart
Lighter and tinier
Than I had imagined
You trusted me

I told you I would care for you
As I already had
In my cupped hands
Now
And forever

Resting you on the porch railing
You looked at me
Words didn't matter
We both knew
You were meant to be free

Away you flew
Back
And Forth
Then over my head
You were meant to be free

Finding Nemo?

Finding Nemo?

I think Nemo found us.

All five inches of Storm Nemo and counting. Just look at the snow orbs. Beautiful stuff.  Makes me all giddy inside. Feeling like a child.  Now that's a memory.

Remembering the snow of 1957 in Baltimore. Many of the electrical lines were down.  Parents were not afraid to send their children out to play.  They had told their children to stay away from the downed lines.  Children listened.  They were accountable.

We were off school one week.  Each night I would listen for the radio news hoping my school was closed.  My friends and I couldn't wait to play in the snow.  Igloos, snowmen.  We were a creative bunch.  You always had a pal to play with.

Today it is a quiet day.  I am a bit older now still feeling the wonder of a child. There are no plans to lose the wonder.  As Ram Dass reminds us, "We are just walking each other home."  Imagine hand in  hand. The wind outside is gusting.  Circles.  A neighbor sits in the sunroom completing a crossword puzzle. 

My dogs are sleeping.  They loved this morning's snow.  I doubt they will enjoy going out later as the inches and the reminds us.  Nature is a mighty force.  Nemo did indeed find us.

Beyonce?

Let's get a grip on it!  I just do not get this idol worshipping.  All the great religions do it, even Buddhism.  Buddha said he didn't believe in idolatry.  So why the little Buddha's everywhere? Really.

We had the Beatles, lots before, lots after, Madonna, lots before, lots after, and now Beyonce. Half time at the Super Bowl I just couldn't get into it. It reminded me of a judge sitting above the peons in a courtroom.  The scanty costumes were a bit over the top personally.  And the struttin.  Nope.  Not for me.

I'll take the Budweiser Clydesdale commercial any day.  Just sayin.

Warmth

Warmth.  Nearly everywhere we go we search for it.  In our families, mates and friends.  We like dogs because they exude it.  And other kinds of pets.  It seems we look everywhere for it.  But inside.

The joy of age is that we can look back.  Remembering the 70s and excess of the glittering Reagan 80s, my body feels cold.  My first apartment did, too.  Our words were more direct, at least we thought so then.  Magazines depicted the right colors, style and furnishings to get us that.  But it was only a photo-shopped look.  It didn't strike at our hearts.  It did strike at our purse. It still felt cold.

I love color, style and furnishings.  But warmth and its resonant depth can only come from within.  From our hearts, from our love.  It is the love we first learn, if we are lucky, to extend to ourselves.  When we can do it for ourselves we can do it for others.  It is like elastic ~ it stretches and returns to its original dimension. It will come home.    

Our culture does anything but encourage us to work within.  The advertising industry through glossy magazines sell us a belief system, beautiful make-up, clothes and figures or the media that reinforce and promote continual stress.  Are we really more stressed than subsistence societies?

I like warm people.  Open people.  People who laugh at their foibles.  People who exude it.  They bring others along with them.  They teach us to access ourselves. 

It's a cold day outside.  In my writing and art studio a quick 180 reminds me of this today. This is what warmth looks like.

What Good Looks Like

I was only saying, 'hello' as the urgent voice on the phone this morning beckoned my quiet. I've known this man my entire life.  Didn't much like him as a child.  He was too stern, too emotionally unavailable, too critical.  He gave me nice birthday and Christmas presents.  He was a good boy.

Within a minute she spewed out that he was dying.  In hospice officially.  He had been receiving hospice-like care on and off for a year.  It is an insurance designation or...it was.  It is terminal now.  Shallow breathing.  He would have been 94.

Just the other night I dreamed about him.  He had left me something in an envelope.  A letter maybe.  Something that was his Mom's.  He dearly loved his Mom, my Nana.  It doesn't matter what was in the envelope.  His life mattered.  It was a life of service to others.

First the military during the second world war.  He was a paratrooper and made many jumps over the South Pacific.  Hospitalized on his last jump for three months in an Australian hospital, he grew to love this country.  He went back several times.  I was always getting postcards with horses on them from him.  He had no children save a few nieces and nephews.  He never married.

Educated at Duke University, it took him eight years to finish.  He'd work a year and save for the next year's tuition.  One determined man.  He was determined to take care of his family.  Never minding to help anyone financially.  He was more than generous.  He did not like waste of any kind.

He loved children.  So much that he was always involved with the Boumi Temple.  He contributed a great deal to the Shriner's Hospitals for Children. A thirty-second degree mason, too.

It is hard to sum up a life.  He was my UNCLE and I called him that lifelong.  I can't imagine life without him.  There is no one left now.  Only the offspring of my brother and I.  The turnstyle has made another notch.

He was a good boy.  An honorable man.