I don’t talk about politics here…. and mostly not about religion either. My Grandpa Bernard Edward told me never to discuss those things in social settings… and THIS is a pretty social setting.
But tonight, I may allude to such things… ever so slightly.

You see, I believe strongly in Karma. I won’t call it Karma here, because often times people will associate the term with certain Indian Religions. And they miss the bigger concept.

So tonight, I will call Karma…. let’s see …..”Fuzzy Pastels”…. yes…. I totally believe in “Fuzzy Pastels”…. which is the idea that…  when you act in a beneficial manner toward the world …. OR conversely…. when you create harmful effects on the world….. those “actions” will return to oneself eventually.   Colloquially this may be summed up as ‘what goes around comes around.’ (It is a concept that is based on the “Law of Return”)

Yes.  “What goes around comes around!”   If you are a Christian, this largely resembles the concept of “What Would Jesus Do” crossed with “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

So why convey my interest in Fuzzy Pastels this evening?

Well, you see….. I am a citizen of the United States of America. And it appears that our country is on the very slippery edge of falling off the earth. We are on the brutal brink of crashing hard. It scares the holy crap out of me.  Yet I believe that things could be done, right this very moment…. that would put us back on the better path. Things that would give the country a fighting chance.  People have to start believing in one another again.  We’ve forgotten about the “magic” of possibilities.

For all of that… we have a bunch of grown adults…. …. acting like dolts… and they should know better. On all sides of the table. This is a clear indication to me that they neither believe in “Fuzzy Pastels” or in the principle of “Do unto others….”

No. It seems that a lot of people want a lot of other people to fail miserably right now.  And we are all in the boat together.

I’ll tell you this much….. if things crumble… we are all going to feel the repercussions. “Fuzzy Pastels” gone bad.  More like Prickly Neons.

There just needs to be some sort of middle ground. A teeny bit of give and take, if you will. Perhaps…. team work.

I know. I know. My old pair of rose colored glasses… those hopes for the silver lining. Well what do you know! They don’t call me Pollyanna for nothing.

And yes Virginia, there is an Easter Bunny. And he wears a fuzzy pastel suit….. and hands out candy eggs… without expecting anything in return.  That’s what its all about.  See?  No talk of politics or religion here.  Just your occasional Happy Holiday.  I hope Grandpa Bernie Eddie would be proud.

More letters have been coming in from several different readers, and places.  (People have noticed my decline in creative energy… or so they say.)  This note… scribed by Margy from Sioux City, Iowa:

Dear Polly,
Your column has been a little on the weak side lately. Are you preoccupied with something? Are you not feeling well? I am not complaining. I am merely concerned.

Dear Margy (is it Margy….sounding sort of like bungee jump? Or Margy with a hard G…. Like Geek? Oh, I guess it doesn’t matter. I just want to pronounce it correctly here….) at any rate… Dear Margy Bungee Geek of Sioux City,

Thanks for your concern.  And…..To answer your questions:   Yes. and…. Yes.
I’ve been “moving” this past week Marg. “Preoccupied” is an understatement. However…. I have learned a big lesson throughout this process……and that is:

We all have a bunch of “stuff”…. now don’t we? Do you know when you realize it the most? When you move.

It goes something like this:

1. You decide it is time to move your stuff to a new place… where your stuff might be happier… along with the owners of the stuff.

2. You begin to assess your stuff. “Do I really need this?”   “I haven’t worn this sweater since I was 17 years old…. do I really need to keep it? I used to LOVE this thing…”   “Oh, look at this fuzzy dice set I won at my first fair. I can’t hardly throw this away.”

Yes. You have assessed. You smugly say… “Keep it all… pack it up!” And you do.

3. Four days later, you are still packing your stuff… and your decisions become less sentimental….and/or rational. “Okay… here is our brand new TV and DVD player. Do we really need to watch these things any more? No we do not. I VOW not bring them with us… vamoose!”   “Oh look. My daughter’s baby book….. oh to hell with it… nobody looks at this thing… she’s grown… pitch it.”

The madness continues to escalate.

4. Seven days into the process, you have managed to pack as few of your belongings as possible.  Now….it is time to move it.  This is hard work.  You begin to curse and swear like a sailor at your stuff.

5. Eventually… you arrive at the new house. Time to unpack. But what you find in those boxes are a whole bunch of poor decisions. Little bags of rusty paper clips.  Those fuzzy dice.  Mismatched knitting needles.  A Barry Gibb Poster.  Four egg timers.   And you realize that by the time you got around to hauling your important stuff…. well, you no longer held allegiances or alliances to any of those things. (You were dog-tired for crying out loud)  …..but what were you thinking when you threw away all the silverware?

6. You bemoan your poor decision-making skills.

7. You then finish unpacking all of those poor decisions. Done.

8. Trash day, and you ignominiously haul your empty boxes and wadded up paper to the curb.

9. At last.. time to relax. So you sit down in the bright orange bean bag chair… that was packed early in the process…. and prop your feet on the rugby ball you found at the park in 1984. As you sip your Diet Coke from the “Looney Tunes” glass you got with a fill-up from the Sunoco, in 1972… . . ….a complete sense of accomplishment washes over you. It just doesn’t get any better than this. (And thankfully, you kept your Sock Monkey Hat… which you now wear proudly….. to amplify the celebration).

Ahhhhhh…. Home At Last. Home Sweet Home. There’s No Place Like Home….. and you promise yourself… to stay at this new place…. .until the cows come home…. or you need a new place to hang your Sock Monkey Hat.

Oh, she was quite certain of her gift.  From a very young age, Greta knew she had a special talent and purpose in life.  Yes, she was in tune with her sixth (heck, maybe even her seventh) sense. Greta could reveal people’s fortunes… and most of the time she was precise.

Her family was dirt poor all throughout Greta’s childhood.  At age 5 or 6, her neighborhood friend Dolly dropped by one Thursday afternoon to play.  Greta said….”Dolly, one day you are going to have the biggest boobs ever, make millions of dollars singing about a whorehouse, and people will travel for miles to go down your log flume.” At that moment, her mother scooped Greta off the floor and washed her mouth out with soap.

As it turned out…. Greta was right.  All true.  And now, Dolly has a nice little amusement park in Pigeon Forge, TN.

It happened  time and again throughout her life.  Nevertheless, people made fun of her. Laughed at her…. mocked her.   But….. one day… she vowed…. she would help millions with her gift… and maybe get a cool crystal ball out of the deal.

She was right on the mark about Mr. Redenbacher giving up the underwear modeling gig ….and instead… following the idea about putting popcorn in heatable bags.

And then there was little Stevie Jobs. He loved fruit… Grapes, Bananas, Apples, Plums, Apricots…. all of it!   Greta told him to stick to the Apples….specifically Macintosh.

She never gave up…. following her “calling” her entire life.   And finally, it payed off.  She was discovered by Dionne Warwick… is currently the “big star” at the Psychic Channel… and saved enough money to buy a huge rock ranch in Raven Woods, Nevada. It has a delightful crystal ball tree on the property.

Yes, Greta was true to herself. She aligned herself with her higher purpose, and the universe couldn’t help but make a straight and good way for her path.

If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.
–Henry David Thoreau

May we all be wise enough to follow our passions, and find our own little crystal ball trees.  May you all have great fortunes.

There is a lot to be said for a good action figure….

Most of us are used to seeing the usual suspects… WWF Wrestling Figures, Army Men, Super Heroes, Cowboys, Indians….

Imagine my surprise the day I found Ludwig Van Beethoven and Wilhelm Richard Wagner. So cool that someone mass produced historical composers….musical geniuses if you will… as action figures.

In theory it is indeed very cool. However, in practice, it really isn’t that snappy, I have to tell you. They don’t do much really. The one guy is deaf and the other was idolized by Hitler for this anti-Semitic musings.

And they don’t do much either. They sit and write… and will occasionally get up swing their little batons to and fro.

I don’t think they will replace Tickle-Me Elmos or G.I.Joes…..  I mean… if I got bored with this play time, Little Timmy will surely bail out…

So much for “Hasbro” meets the “Arts”….  but it was a noble thought….

Do you ever feel like something else… other than the human that you are?

The last few days, I have felt tired as a dog. But more to the point….I seem to be turning into quite the pack mule.

You see, this week is “moving” week. Moving is a pretty cockamamie thing to do. This I will tell you right here and now.

At the moment… I am wondering just what the point is… really? Oh, it seems like a good idea at the beginning….. and…. in theory it is very sparkly.  But once the ordeal begins, you realize this game is for someone much younger, and stronger than you. (Now…. if you happen to be younger and stronger… please..… call me.  I could use the help.)

No. This moving thing is not for the weak of heart. Or legs. Especially when your new (old) home has three large stories.

Not “stories” like “The Three Little Pigs.” Nopers. Stories like…. 12 stairs, a landing….12 stairs, a landing, 12 stairs, a landing. You get the idea. Oh, I huffed and I puffed alright…. but not to blow anything down. Just catching my wind, from all those steps.

I have truly become a pack mule. In fact, tonight’s photo… is a shot of my lower legs and feet. As you can see….. this looks a little awkward on me. But if you think the hooves are bad… you should see my ears. I’m getting a little long in the tooth as well. Most of all……I’m trying hard not to be a total ass.

As I sit and think about the last couple of days… struggling to keep my eyes open at this point… I’ve decided we should probably stay put for a while…

The old saying goes….“You don’t learn anything the second time you’re kicked by a mule”

And there you have it.

Okay.  I need to go comb my ears before I got to bed…..

Hee Haw….

A.A. Milne sure could write.  And he must have known an intense & loving friendship with someone in his life.  He is one of my favorite writers, because he was sensitive to the matters of the heart… and conveyed them beautifully in his books.

“Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”
( Christopher Robin to Pooh ) – A.A. Milne

I have some wonderful friends in my life.  Truly.  Most of my pals are bipeds.  You know…. wear shoes…. have opposable thumbs…. use toothbrushes….  read this bloggish-project I knock-around here.

Yet….  Three of them happen to live in dog suits.  And I miss their furry faces when I am not with them.

These… would be the faces I am missing tonight…..  those braver, stronger, smarter little friends or mine.

“If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you.”  -A.A. Milne

Thank you for being a friend.

The thing about “flying the friendly skies” is…. well… sometimes it isn’t always the “friendliest’ of places.

This morning I had to fly. Not flapping my arms wildly. NO….. I used US Airways. Now, I like US Air. No complaints so far…. except for Juwanda. She was our attendant from Charlotte to Charleston. Juwanda didn’t seem too happy to be serving the coffee on this particular day. But that’s not the deal. Most of the time US Air folks seem to be on the ball. Or on the plane. Without the rain. In Spain. (Dang it… there I go again.)

No, today…. I write and complain about what I like to refer to as Airplane Chickens… OR Airplane Roosters… depending.  They are the seat mates that spread their wings all over the place…. hogging arm rests…. reading newspapers WAY past their halves of the chicken house…. bumping you with no regard for your nest…

And the barn yard fun gets even more interesting when they pull out their little Rooster laptops, seeming oh-so-very-important… and begin to hunt and peck as they type. It is like they are foraging for corn kernels in the dirt… scratching and bobbing their heads up and down… hunt and peck….

I just wanted to sit and enjoy my US Airways “Cafe’ Mystique” black cup of coffee, served in the very styling Styrofoam cup….. But NO… “Plane Rooster” had to unfurl his feathers and bump me and my Styrofoam Cafe’  Mystique……(sidebar:  OK… now maybe I DO have an issue with US Air…. and their “Cafe Mystique” presentation.  I am not sure who came up with that brain-child.  I couldn’t begin to tell you what is so elusive and alluring is about this particular cup of java….)  But please… let’s stay on topic here…. back to the Roosters and Chickens.

Roosters & Chickens can’t fly.  Even City Girls know that.  (I watched “Chicken Run” for crying out loud.)  So NOW we know….That’s why the Plane Chickens have to use the airlines….they can’t fly on their own.  My theory?  It is hard on their little egg-hatching egos… so they fluff up their feathers and crowd the others out of the nest.)

Chickens….  good for nothing.

Well, they do lay some decent eggs… which are great with grits and biscuits.  Glad to be back in the south… for now…. because tomorrow morning I am eating Plane Chicken Eggs with Grits and Biscuits.  Paybacks are hell.

As I take my walk in the woods…. I am fascinated with the beauty of nature…. its birth…. and its subsequent passing.

Like this shriveling leaf clump.

(I think the tree is…… Poplar. You know….like a Homecoming Queen; admired by all its friends; life of the party….. Poplar. ) OK. So maybe it is UnPoplar.

But gosh darn it…. I am getting off the track AGAIN.

The main thing I wanted to mention this evening are the birthdays which occurred on this date… and now…. these amazing people have passed. (Their leaves shriveled… I guess.) If you will….. the list is off-the-charts-good:

George Washington Carver ?/1864 – 1/5/1943
African-American scientist

Julius Caesar 7/12/c100 BC – 3/15/44BC
Roman imperial general and statesman

Henry David Thoreau 7/12/1817 – 5/6/1862
American essayist, poet and philosopher

George Eastman 7/12/1854 – 3/14/1932
American manufacturer; founded Eastman Kodak Company

Amedeo Modigliani 7/12/1884 – 1/24/1920
Italian painter and sculptor

Buckminster Fuller 7/12/1895 – 7/1/1983
American engineer and architect

Oscar Hammerstein ll 7/12/1895 – 8/23/1960
American lyricist and producer of musical theater

I mean…… just Hammerstein and Thoreau would have been over the top…. for crying out loud.

Oklahoma!, Carousel, South Pacific, The King and I and The Sound of Music were some of my very favorites. (…Brown paper packages tied up with strings….These are a few of my favorite things…)

And then….

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.”
— Henry David Thoreau

Who writes like that? Either one of those guys…. how?   Profoundly Amazing, I’ll tell you.

So… July 12th. A big day for the hearty of mind and spirit.
May we all be mighty of mind, and of spirit, as we take OUR walk in the woods.

Nature has some tricks up her sleeve, I’ll tell you.

There are all sorts of things that are pretty knock-your-socks-off-good.  Stunning and stupendous.

Like….. well….. the skin of an apple, fits that perky fruit just perfectly.  I think it is appealing.

The snow flake phenomena… that no two are exactly alike (I am not sure that anyone REALLY knows this for sure). When I was eight, I am pretty sure I saw one that looked JUST like another that I saw when I was eleven. No way to prove it now. They melted.

The moon controls the tides. It lets them get high and low… but most of the time… not too high and not too low.  Not too happy… and not too sad.

Human brains come in different sizes. The heaviest human brain ever recorded weighed 5 pounds and 1.1 ounces (2.3 kg.). Now, how do YOU figure that THEY figured THAT one….?

Sound travels about 4 times faster in water than in air. I tested this. With tin cans and strings.  (This was ONE tough experiment to conduct.  Especially, the underwater part….  but I am feeling much better now.)

I used to be a chemistry major. The only letter that isn’t on the periodic table is “j”…. I have loads of theories about this one.

North Dakota has never had an earthquake. Don’t hold any blame there….It is not its fault.

One thing in nature I am really glad for is the fact that the leg bones of a bat are so thin that no bat can walk. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.

These fluffy things (in my photo) make a low-pitched humming noise at dusk. It freaks me out when I walk by a big bunch of them… like at the end of our driveway.

So, just a few things to ponder tonight…..

You don’t think that humming noise could be someone hiding in all that fluff…. like Munchkins, or something?  Or heaven forbid… walking bats?  (I mean… scientists were wrong about lobotomies…..  Hey… you think that is how they measured that brain?)

Oooohhhhhh.  Nature and her antics….

I love my Dad. I like him a whole lot too. He is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. My Dad has a list of great qualities taller than he is.

I would say that he practices what he preaches. But the thing of it is…. he doesn’t preach. He simply does. He has always led by example.  Funny. Kind. Honest. Strong. Smart. Compassionate.   He is a good man, through and through.

Yesterday was my Dad’s Birthday. He was born in 1922. That makes him 89 years old…. and he has seen a lot in those years.

He grew up during the Depression. His family was pretty dang poor, and lived in about 15 different houses on the east side of Dayton, during his formative years.

Dad has a story or two about that…… he surely does.

He served the United States of America in WWII…… on the European Front. He is pretty wise about that experience. He has a story or two about those adventures too…..yes indeed.

My folks have been married more than 64 years.   They are still very much in love. Oh….. they have been through the thick and thin of it.  Seven children. Wouldn’t you know it…. he has a story or two about that as well.

Today we celebrated his 89 years. A lot to be thankful for and great cause for celebration.

We sang some songs from Mary Poppins…… while eating lemon bars & drinking strong coffee. I can’t think of too much that would have been better than that.

The world has changed a lot since 1922.  And I am very sure about one thing.  It is truly a much better place…. because of my Dad.