Memory

Memory is such a funny thing. Really, what is it for? other than to help us survive. You know, so you can remember how to get to the hunting grounds, remember that the good drinking water is over here, and remember that wal-murt is having a sale.

Sure, those are all the practical uses, the good things. Then there is the shadowy side of memory: Nostalgia. ( I capitalized it for the effect) Memory can color your past so that it is maybe more palatable. For example, in high school you were a depressed, self-absorbed nerd. (this isjust hypothetical) but twenty years later, you think of yourself as having been this sort of, avant garde hipster who was ahead of the curve. ( I guess that sort of sums up everyone who was into punk in the 80's then defined the nineties?)

Those memories can be kind of appealing, really you were very cool; you were just the only person who knew. And it is your memory, so hold on to it. This story has more of a point than that.
Let's say that you did not keep in touch with anyone you went to High school with, you lost touch the last day of classes your senior year. That is even better for your memories.
Only, one day it dawns on you that, "I was a really a self absorbed, depressed, nerd and not as cool as I thought" (this all comes to you a few years later, while you are making Latte's for the theater crowd, while listening to Eric Clapton's Unplugged album and one of the patrons suggests listening to something more...progressive. You sneer at him and say Eric Clapton is fuckin cool.)

So, then you think hey, if I still lived in the same town, not 800 miles away, I might be able to be in touch with those people. You are looking around you at the friends you have and realize that they have known each other since they were in grade school. And feel like you have not kept in touch with your past. Granted there are down sides to being that in touch but I digress. Sometimes in order to stay present I think it is good to have the past clarified. And when you keep in touch with those who grew up with you it can help.

A funny thing happened to me. In the past few months I have, on Facebook, gotten in touch with a few of the people who I spent my senior year of High school with. I have not seen or talked to them since the last day of classes in 1989. It was my most, up to that point, tumultuous year. (that is over stated) I don't need them to tell me what I already know, but it would be great if they can tell me what they were like.

Ruthie: Cartographer

Ruthie and I were looking at the Eugene/Springfield bicycle map; Ruthie was quite impressed that we could find the spot on the map where our house is. She asked me what the map was for so, I explained that it is a drawing of the different paths one could take to get somewhere. This map specifically shows the easiest and safest ways to bicycle to those places.

She was really taken with the Idea that someone drew a picture of this and that she could do the same thing. So, Ruthanne came up with this:

Basically, it is a map showing the four schools we all go to. I would have to have her orient me; the two bear stickers represent two of the schools and there are two circles that represent the other two.

School?

I'm actively ignoring the reading I should be doing and listening to music. Ahh that is exactly what I used to do when I was in high school. Yes, it is true, heritable gene exposed to homework brings out this allele? Geneticists may be able to confirm for me if I wrote that sentence correctly. Anyway, I don't know what percentage is wholly due to genetics but, listening to SCOTS and writing down my opinions about me seems to be so, much easier than reacting to, an image or writing about John Winthrop for example.

And my psych paper the subject of does interest me; but is easier for me to have a casual relationship with and not one where I have to explain.

Charlie seems to be having alot of fun in school. He is learning to use the potty and looks forward to playing with his friends. Ruthie is also digging school, (I mean she likes school and is not there with a pick and a shovel) she has figured out the 1 and 1 are two and enjoys copying words. She has also found that there are other kids her age that she can play with.

Remember when.........you could draw a picture, play nicely on the playground and that was enough.

Sarah Palin: What If The Tables Were Turned.

I just watched the last installment of Katie Couric's interview with Gov. Sarah Palin. It was painful. I felt uncomfortable for her.

I began to imagine a world where Mccain loses the presidency (I am not making a prediction just put on you imagination caps for a minute and imagine with me)

Mccain loses, the pressure that Palin is now under is off. She is sitting at home, in Wasilia with her five kids, thinking about being a grandma and how a weekend trip with her old man would do her a world of good.

Palin: Lands I am glad That (the election) is over. Whew no more stuffed shirts telling me what to say......Do I need a Vacation........hmmmm....

Who can I get to watch the kids? (she imagines a list of people she could call) Karl Rove.....nah......too grumpy.......the Obama's....too busy, not to mention Liberals.......hmmmm.... ( A slightly evil, but kindly, mischievious look comes over her face...) Man McCain owes me big time. Ha

Palin comes home from her vacation on the sunny shores of Vancouver Island.

She walks in the door......to see that the kids have decorated the house with toilet paper, the T.V. is on displaying the menu for Nightmare On Elm Street. All the Disney DVDs are scattered on the floor. The house smells of burnt toast and rotting feces.

She is shocked, there are no sign of the kids.

A light tapping noise is heard from somewhere in the house. As if someone were trying to send a message. It's Morse code for "Please help, I am locked in the upstairs bathroom closet, bring food". Sarah rushes up stairs and finds a note " Mom. Went to Grandmas house. Mr. McCain is locked in the closet. p.s. Senators make horrible babysitters. signed kids"

Sarah Opens the closet door to find a weakned John McCain.
(Palin reacts how any parent would if they found the babysitter tied up in a closet)
Palin:"Oh John I am sooo embarrased, did the kids do this to you?"
McCain: "No I did it after watching the Lion King for the fifth time....the kids would not go to bed....and and....It was worse than Nam......" he sobs uncontrollably...

Palin ...rofl.......ha those darn kids...ha I'm sorry John clearly you just are not in your element. I promise I will never ask you to babysit again.

Charlie And I Are Starting School!

Number two son starts preschool tomorrow. I don't know why, but it seems to be much too early for him to be going, I mean, he is still so young. Bah! I hear you say, two-and- a- half is not too young.

Okay, Okay 2 -1/2 is not too young, especially not for Chas. He is ready and will probably excel at whatever preschool throws at him; even it is just food. He will be provided things that I don't provide like ...structure, for example.

Beyond nap time and lunch, I don't have activities planned for him like: play dough (too messy to clean up) Art play...(usually the crayons all get trashed after he does free form art (scribble) all over the windows and walls. Oh yes and potty training. This is something that I utterly fail at. Our toilet training program consists of him removing his diaper and going to the bathroom when he remembers to or if I catch him in the act. Without going into more detail toilet training is a primary motivation for me to send him to preschool.

The other major motivation is my entering the University of Oregon. The fact that I am starting school the same year that my daughter started Kindergarten has hit her funny bone. She thinks it is the silliest thing ever!

Maybe she has the image of me going to some big, adult version of kindergarten? who knows? She has no idea that I am not starting school but continuing where I left off a couple of years ago.

Even I think it is kind of silly that I am going to school; here I am basically going into more debt in the hopes that when I get out I can get a job that will pay off the debt. All the while, I know that I could get a job without going into debt and spending years studying a bunch of abstract stuff.

Sigh, ah but the problem is if I did get a job I would have to put the kids into daycare, either at six in the morning (because of bakers hours) or if I were lucky enough to work a 9-5 job for the entire day. Then I would be paying someone to raise my kids.

Going to school at least gives me the flexibility to keep doing the sahp gig for a couple of years, and I don't have to hand them over to someone else for long periods of time. Who knows, my writing might get better.

Haiku

Rain falls from the clouds
brown grass turns green

Apples fall from the tree
apple sauce tastes sweet.

Charlie scares me!

About a year ago Charlie got hold of a very large knife with frosting on it. (which was more than adequate to cut cake with) He was in the middle of the room with several people standing to far away from him to just stop him. It was as if he was about to attempt to hold everyone hostage with this knife.

When I saw him with the knife, I had one of those "noooo" slow motion moments. Before I could get the knife away from him he stuck the tip of the knife in his mouth and licked the frosting off. ugh.

It was a scary two seconds.... Charlie has absolutely no qualms about using knives: to cut up cheese, put peanut butter on bread, cut the bread up.
He is a very resourceful little man; I have no doubt that he gets it from his sister.

I could be busily, working in the yard, cleaning the house or wasting time on the computer (not paying attention to the kids) and find them having a four course lunch: grapes, apples, cheese, bread, carrots. It used to be that they would tell me when they are hungry but now they don't even bother.

It is kind of nice; the only draw back, really, is that they don't clean up and there is sure to more of a mess than there would be if I had provided lunch for them.

On the plus side if I pass out, impale myself with gardening tools, drown in the sink or become otherwise incapacitated I know that the kids won't starve.

Presidential Politics

I really have to get this off my chest. I don't write about my opinions of national politics much because well, the enormity of it all makes me feel that there is no point to having an opinion. Presidential campaigns bother me. every campaign I can remember (that would be all the way back to Reagan.....I am only 37 after all)

They talk about changing things, changing the tone in Washington, changing tax laws, changing welfare, yada yada, change blah blah d blah blah. So, far from my perspective things have gotten better for those who were already well off and those of us on the bottom still have to walk a tight rope over poverty. (Wealth seems to me to be more of a birth right than a good work ethic) (who am I to complain, I mean I swore that I would always be poor and now I eat every day and I don't have a paying job) It is a difficult balance regardless.

I like to consider my self Independent, In reality the Dems have always had my vote, except for that year that Nader ran......sigh...... Socially I am not conservative I am all for abortion, drugs, wild sex, and atheists. ( I am much more consverative than that) What turned me off of Republican candidates is their distance from reality, they speak in platitudes that don't stand up to scrutiny. I mean Reagan, known as the great communicate was just a pitchman and was totally void of substance.

They talk about "family values" but then get caught in airport bathrooms trying to get lucky, and who can forget Bob Packwood.

I am more irked with the Republicans now than I ever thought was possible; I mean we have McCain who I viewed as being somewhat honest, shooting for the platitudes that will get the yokel vote. Not so long ago McCain was pro-choice now he is talking about banning abortion out right.

One would hope that if he gets into office he will stick to those wacky right wingers.

I am voting for Obama, but honestly I have only heard one of his inspiring speeches; that was all for me. why? Well it is that platitude thing again; he is a much better speaker than Gore or Kerry were. Gore and Kerry appealed to me because they did not use flowery speech, I just don't trust any one who seems to be trying to sell me something.

If Obama were not so slick I might feel really good about voting for him.

Gratuitous Poop Story

When I first moved to California, I lived in the Napa valley (actually a little town called Angwin in the hills east of the valley). What I liked most about living there was not the availability a lot of really good inexpensive wine, but the food. All the food was good. Grocery store deli food was superb, the scones at my favorite coffee shop melted in my mouth. The burgers at the local drive up place were incredible and all the food was fresh. Not only are there chefs and cooks with a lot of vision, the Napa valley is smack dab in the middle of family farm country there is a plethora of fresh produce. Even the local taqueria, which was inexpensive, had the best burritos and tacos around; I and my fellow bakers would get dinner there before they closed.

Not to forget the grapes. In St. Helena, where the bakery I worked at is, there are vineyards all over town; my son and I would often walk through the rows of grape vines to get to the library, his day care or the store. Sometimes, when the grapes were just getting ripe we would take a couple.....maybe more...and pop them into our mouths to test their readiness for the crush.

The Crush came toward the end of August and went well into September. Just when the grape leaves start to change color, the grapes come off the vine and are loaded into huge gondolas that are towed to the various wineries, Which, as you may imagine are also as ubiquitous as the grape vines . I did not take much interest in the goings on of the wine industry, I did not go to tasting rooms or drive around the valley and the surrounding hills looking for the best wine, I did have some wines that I thought were good. What I do know is that you don't generally drink wine when it is just grape juice. It puzzles me why it seemed that during the crush there were suddenly more people in wine country? These BMW driving fashionistas were not there to work, I am positive, since most of them seemed to be a drunk at the end of the day. They were definitely tourists. The other puzzling aspect was the smell, the smell of, well, fermenting grapes was everywhere and it was not totally pleasant, You would think the tourists would all wait until after the smell went away to come. I did get used to it eventually so much so that I don't find it all the offensive.

Right now I have loads of grapes, like a bunch of purple chandeliers hanging from my arbor, and ripe grapes are being crushed under foot on our porch. Charlie and Ruthie have been eating grapes by the handful for almost a month. (most of them not ripe)

A couple of days ago, Charlie walked past me and suddenly a whiff of something reached my nose that brought back a flood of memories. I was transported, I remembered eating tacos and drinking Corona at work, walking the vineyards with Kyle, buying grapes at the St. Helena farmers market. A couple of minutes later as I changed Charlies diaper I realised where the smell was coming from.

IN The Moment......

It was a popular topic for myself and my twenty-something friends to talk about the virtues of being in the moment. We talked about the moment as if it were some far off utopia that once we found the path to, life would be smooth. I am not sure exactly where we came upon this idea, it came to me through Jack Kerouac and his books, Allen Ginsburg and Ram Das. I did not get enough information however, to actually narrow down that big Moment.

When those moments of conversation would turn to the moment, the magical mystical moment, not that last moment, often we would talk about how children truly live in THE MOMENT. Just watch how they flit from thing to thing totally engrossed for a few seconds then changing their focus. It is easy for me to understand why, when I was on the cusp of adult hood, I would pine for the type of awareness a child of 2 to 7 has. Everything is just new enough that all objects and experiences are amazing.

Now I am positive that what I thought THE MOMENT was back when I was twenty seems totally naive and....shallow. I realized this when observing one of my 2 year old's antics. Chaz was playing on our back deck (which we now call the poop deck) when he stopped in his tracks and pooped. I don't know exactly what went through his mind when he did that but my guess was what led me to my realization. First he had this funny feeling in his gut. Second came the poop. Third: uh ohhhh daddy there is poop on me. He has not made the connection between the pre-pooping feeling and the poop coming out, and he may not have made the connection between the poop on the deck and the poop that came out of him. (He actually is more advanced than that)

Imagine a grown adult who previously could use the bathroom, suddenly forgetting to go.

I really do appreciate the part of my brain that alerts me to run to the bathroom before I have those types of moments, and to want to live that way seems a bit backward. I have learned, since I was a twenty something, that being present is different than being in the moment.

Carry On Abroad

We are two weeks into summer vacation now, and we have spent most of our time working in the yard. Our garden is huge and is putting out at least, a ton, (A TON!) of veggies. It is great since we have little to spend on food.

My natural reaction to my wife having time off is to travel. This year is no exception; but travel this year is less likely to happen, not just because of gas prices. We have our livestock to take care of, our garden and yard still needs maintaining and, well, the major thing for me is getting myself acclimatized to Eugene.

Yes, I am still a bit homesick for Utah, (many ex Utahans don't get this.....sometimes I don't either) I can't put my finger on "one" reason why I miss the place; still the fact that I miss it remains; I also miss the SF Bay area.

So, staying put is a pretty good idea for me. If I visit Utah it will just feed my malaise.

We were even planning a trip to Moab this year......sigh......
On another note, when I was looking for pictures of Moab, I found this NY Times travel article about Moab and its environs. Take a look at the slide show. Their photographer needs to get out more. From this slide show, one would think that the only thing to see in the entire area ,around Moab, is Delicate Arch....(I am rolling my eyes)....

Fathers Day

I knew , when I went to bed at 2:00 a.m., that Charlie would be up in five hours; he would not tolerate my sleeping much more than him. I knew, when my older son went to bed at 1:00 a.m. that staying up as late as he did, then sleeping late, he would wake up cranky; therefore moody and argumentative.

We don't really celebrate Fathers day or mothers day much. Mom does not get breakfast in bed, what she gets is a kiss on the cheek and a "Happy Mothers day." I get happy mothers day too, which I know has nothing to do with the givers gender confusion but with an acknowledgment of the type of work I do. (my equipment is what makes me dad and not mom)

I can't really expect much on fathers day. I can expect to have the same things expected of me that are expected me every day. Make breakfast and be ready to jump when something is requested of me.

What can I expect when we have all stayed up too late: I am depressed and whiny, my son argues with every suggestion I make, and my two year old, is, well, his normal bubbly, energetic, demanding, loud self.

So, I will slog through today and see if I can get a day off with my wife when school gets out.

Fun, Happy Marriages

One of my favorite "Happy " couples was on the Front page of the Vallejo Herald.

I know it is a big deal for them; when their daughter Lucy was born they had to go through tons of paperwork and they had to get a signature from the donor in order to have Marnie recognized as a parent. (getting him to sign was not so difficult) Anyway, hopefully , the process will be easier now for other same sex parents to be legally recognized as such.

Zen

I am amazed that there is so much written about nothing.

Genjo Koan

We are studying this writing by Dogen Zenji at our Zendo, so far it is one of my favorites. What I have noticed is that when you get right down to the fundamental point, the writing is all about sitting.

Despite that, I think I will keep reading.

I'll knock on wood

I am probably really inviting disaster with this post.....

I was busily moping about under our gray skies, a few minutes ago, when I thought about the amount of time I have spent being depressed verses actual tragedies I have experienced. I have had nothing catastrophic enough in my life to, I feel, to warrant the amount of sadness I have had. I think about the typhoon in Myanmar or, the people on the bridge in New Orleans. I think of my friend who is in mourning of her fathers recent death. These people deserve to feel hopeless, sad, in the pit of suffering.

It boggles my mind that I even had depression as a teen. OK, maybe my sadness was warranted I was, hopelessly shy, a magnet for bullies and even my attempts at being cool, and above the popular kids did not serve to lessen my pain. Now, I am truly above such things...yes?

To compound the sadness, I had a bit of guilt thrown in. I was not supposed to be sad. I was born into the one true Church.... I must have done something wrong. I realize that this is simplistic thinking but the message I remember getting was that, the truth made you happy.

When I was a kid, coming home from a bad day of school, I would put a Bauhaus tape into my stereo and listen to it loud. Loud dark music does not pull me out of a lull anymore. Neither does wishing something really awful would happen so, I could feel better about sadness.

My son is a Princess

My two year old (whose name I will not mention) about two weeks ago was going through a puppy faze. He would come up on hands and knees and insist on being scratched behind the ears; then, in a non-puppy like voice, ask for a bowl of water. He would bark a little, then leave the life of a four legged and rejoin the two legged population.

Now, he is in his princess faze. Ok that isn't fair, really it is just that he is wearing his sisters clothes, which consists of very tasteful flowy dresses. Being the completely honest person I am I have to admit to my feelings of discomfort.

I want to just allow him to experience what he wants, but, there were a few minutes there at outset of his skirt wearing that I was insistent that he put on his overalls.

I decided not to fight it because I could not find any reason why I should. Besides, the only problems I could think of, were that wearing girls clothes might lead him to a life of say: joining the Lincoln Brigade and fighting the Spanish civil war then writing "The Old Man And The Sea" or heading the CIA. (So, boys wearing dresses equals fighting Fascism and writing books about man against nature in a non-descriptive style or well, becoming a spy ala J. Edgar Hoover)

What it really came down to, was avoiding the classic two-year-old meltdown, which I am all about avoiding when the thing he wants is not dangerous....

grr

Every other word out of Chaz's mouth is in the form of a scream and I am on the edge today. I am given to yelling today and I am driving me nuts.......

Journey, and Zen

I was sitting during sesshin a few weeks ago, cultivating nothing, well trying to cultivate no- mind. (seriously, how can you really cultivate nothing? Maybe there are more advanced Zen folks out there who can explain that) So, I was sitting there on my little cushion staring at a wall, bringing about no mind when I hear this " Just a city boy/born and raised in south detroiooit/he took the midnight train/goin anywhere"

I managed to calm my mind a bit then " When the lights/ go down in the citay/and the moon shines on the baaayaa/ooh I wanna be thereyaya in my citay/ ooohoohooh"

Followed by more no mind and more Journey songs; I think all from the same album which, I have never owned or heard.

Really, it gave me hope that maybe enlightenment was looming before me. And, just like the pain in my knee, my stuffed up nose and my sleeping leg I needed to make room for Journey and not try to push them away so, the next time Steve Perry's voice manifested itself in my head with " oh the wheel in the sky keeps on trunin/oh I don't know where I'll be tommoroooohooh" I just sat with it and relief came around. Not no mind relief but " It's the end of the world as we know it/and I feeel fiine"

Toddlers are Amazing!

Charlie has a most amazing skill. Maybe it is a sixth sense that only two-year-old's have, needless to say, I discovered it today. I was sitting at the kitchen table filling out my Oregon voter Ballot, when I had to check the bread in the Oven. Charlie, as far as I recollect, was playing in his room on the other side of the house.

Now, granted, our house is not huge, still, it is possible to be in one of the back bedrooms and not know what is going on in the kitchen; unless someone is running the blender or shouting. How Charlie could discern my action I will never know.

When I got up from my ballot I put the pen down, I stepped to the oven (three steps! not ten, or twenty. Three) I turned around to find Charlie traveling the pen around several twists on the morning news paper. I caught him just before he got to my ballot.

All I can guess is, that two-year-olds can smell an abandoned pen and tele-port to them.

Ahhh Spring

This is one of our apple trees, all those blooms will, hopefully, be followed by lots of apples.
This is our front garden.