Saturday, January 14, 2012
Why Do I Do What I Do?
Back in my drinking days, I didn't have to think a lot, which was a good thing, because I wasn't awfully good at it. What I was pretty good at was being a victim. In fact I was a specialist.
I was a victim of people and I was a victim of my alcoholism. I believe that many people not only live in their victimhood (is this a word?), but they are more than comfortable there.
The great appeal of victim status for me was that I had a built in excuse. It it was always someone or something else's fault. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted and blame my behavior on my alcoholism. I would whine about my situation, but how could I change if everything was someone else's fault?
In fact, this became a major hurdle to my sobriety. I had to acknowledge the truth of my dependence on my victimage (there I go, making up words again!), and come to terms with life without this particular crutch. I didn't cross that bar willingly. There is a lot to accept; a lot to relearn, and it didn't happen overnight.
The biggest step was coming to terms with my own personal responsibility. Understanding that my behavior is my choice.....and my responsibility. That doesn't limit what I do, but it does mean that I have to do it with my eyes wide open. That is the best way to live life in any case, so it works out.
The other side of the coin is just as important to me. When I was a victim, I was a victim. I know that sounds stupid, but think about it. A victim is someone that stuff happens to. The victim of a car crash or a disease, the victims of a natural disaster or victims of the economic downturn; all are people that things happen to. Things that are beyond their control. If an alcoholic loses a job or trashes her car in a drunken stupor, she is a victim of her alcoholism, and as long as that condition persists she is unable to do anything about it. She is without control over the situation.
Give up the alcoholism and the victim status that goes with it, and you gain the ability to make it different...the ability to change...you get your life back. Maybe you don't get your job, or your car back, but you get the chance to make changes in the things you do have control over.
That's where I'm at today. I'm not always sure where I am going, but I don't do things I don't want to do, and the things I do, I do with my eyes wide open, and I understand that I am responsible for doing them.
I don't know what life will bring, but I intend to live and love every minute of it, and I hope I am completely used up and worn out out the end. After all, wouldn't it be a shame to park it for the last time with 30,000 miles left on the tires?
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Words Actually Mean Something
Words actually mean something.
You are saying, "Duh....Of course they do!", but what I challenge you to do is think with me about how powerful and meaningful they really are. Our words define us, and often define where we can go and what we can achieve is this world. Our use of words tells the world where we come from, where we have been, sometimes our ethnicity, almost always our age, and how much education we have had. How we use our words can indicate with whom we hang out, and can serve as an entre to groups and situations or a barrier as solid as brick wall.
Many occupations have special words or acronyms and if you don't know them you are D.O.A. Try listening to a group of teachers these days. Hopeless......
An anonymous friend left a very kind comment recently about word pictures. I love to try and paint a picture with my words - sometimes with more success, sometimes with less, but it is always fun to try and imagine different ways of saying a thing, perhaps picturing an event from an unusual perspective for emphasis. I attempt to do similar things in my photography, to share my perspective of the world.
If I had to guess, I would think that the first use of words, indeed the first use of language itself, was probably for naming people, places and things, soon followed by words for actions.
Words can be used to illuminate, but just as frequently they are unwilling participants in serious obfuscation. We are so used to being manipulated by politicians and advertisers that maybe we don't even notice anymore. I recently tried to read an Assembly Bill. There were over 1600 pages of legalese. I think no-one really knows what is in these things, and they are written in such a way that elephants can be hidden amongst the paragraphs and nobody the wiser until it is too late. If a law cannot be defined in three typed single-spaced pages, it is too complicated. Throw it out and try again.
Sometimes what we are promised hides what the real effect will be. California passed a law 30 or so years ago that made legal a State run Lottery. When the law was proposed, the single biggest selling point was that profits from lottery sales would be used for education. We were enchanted. Our schools would never want for anything again. Their cups would runneth over. The type, scale and scope of the lottery games was well defined. The law was made so and everyone was happy. In stepped our State Legislature. Since there was obviously plenty of money from the Lottery, State funding from other sources was cut. Our schools, which we believed would be in great financial condition are struggling, the lottery has expanded time after time, without voter approval, incidentally, and the State has recently embarked on a half-hearted advertising campaign to dissuade teens from buying "scratchers." Wait, wasn't this to help the kids? Instead they are becoming addicted to gambling? I read somewhere that the Lottery was a tax on people who don't understand math......True that...
The places where the words should be held most sacred, and I speak here of the media, are the worst of all. You can graduate today with a four year degree in Mass Communication and Journalism and not have a clue how or when to use to, two and too. The spoken word as used by the average TV reporter is as mangled and miss-used as is humanly possible. I recently was watching a news story about a local 'drive-by' shooting. A young man had been nicked by a passing bullet and was shown with his arm bandaged and in a sling as he stood in front of the family home. The reporter then proceeded to explain that the young man had "Almost escaped death that afternoon." Really? Really? Really?
I used to play a game with my kids. We would take a sentence, for example, "I didn't say he stole the money." I would have them say the sentence seven times, each time placing the stress on a different word. Of course, the meaning of the sentence changes every time. Most of us learn this through osmosis. but like so many things leaned in context we often don't understand the intricacies of our knowledge.
The devil is in the details. The Large Print Giveth, but the small print taketh away. Ever buy a house? Did you read the loan documents? If so, good on you! Do you have a clue what they said? If you know what they said, do you know what they meant? But most importantly, does it matter?
We are so anxious to believe what we want the words to mean that we don't read or listen to what they are saying. Think of that commercial selling you 24 carat solid gold clad coins. "Why with the price of gold at over $1400 an ounce, we can only guarantee our price for 10 days." I did the math. The value of the gold cladding is almost 7 cents. When gold doubles, we'll be sitting pretty, sure enough!
What a thing means to me may or may not mean the same to you, if you know what I mean....
And lookie here, we haven't even touched on plain old lying yet! Words used in the worst way, words held as shields to cheat, words whispered to steal the precious gems of the heart, words sharpened and hurled to injure and maim, words waved to fan flames, words slammed down to crush dreams, words carelessly dropped that cut souls like shards of glass.
Recall the oath one swears when called to testify? To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Sure, as long as the lawyers ask the right questions, right? And speaking of lawyers, ever notice they are never sworn? Lawyers are not required to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Interesting, no? And these, my friend, are some of the cleverest wordsmiths on the planet.
The words I enjoy the most are those shared in the quiet times of intimacy between lovers. Words whispered for their ears alone in the small hours and quiet spaces.
You are saying, "Duh....Of course they do!", but what I challenge you to do is think with me about how powerful and meaningful they really are. Our words define us, and often define where we can go and what we can achieve is this world. Our use of words tells the world where we come from, where we have been, sometimes our ethnicity, almost always our age, and how much education we have had. How we use our words can indicate with whom we hang out, and can serve as an entre to groups and situations or a barrier as solid as brick wall.
Many occupations have special words or acronyms and if you don't know them you are D.O.A. Try listening to a group of teachers these days. Hopeless......
An anonymous friend left a very kind comment recently about word pictures. I love to try and paint a picture with my words - sometimes with more success, sometimes with less, but it is always fun to try and imagine different ways of saying a thing, perhaps picturing an event from an unusual perspective for emphasis. I attempt to do similar things in my photography, to share my perspective of the world.
If I had to guess, I would think that the first use of words, indeed the first use of language itself, was probably for naming people, places and things, soon followed by words for actions.
Words can be used to illuminate, but just as frequently they are unwilling participants in serious obfuscation. We are so used to being manipulated by politicians and advertisers that maybe we don't even notice anymore. I recently tried to read an Assembly Bill. There were over 1600 pages of legalese. I think no-one really knows what is in these things, and they are written in such a way that elephants can be hidden amongst the paragraphs and nobody the wiser until it is too late. If a law cannot be defined in three typed single-spaced pages, it is too complicated. Throw it out and try again.
Sometimes what we are promised hides what the real effect will be. California passed a law 30 or so years ago that made legal a State run Lottery. When the law was proposed, the single biggest selling point was that profits from lottery sales would be used for education. We were enchanted. Our schools would never want for anything again. Their cups would runneth over. The type, scale and scope of the lottery games was well defined. The law was made so and everyone was happy. In stepped our State Legislature. Since there was obviously plenty of money from the Lottery, State funding from other sources was cut. Our schools, which we believed would be in great financial condition are struggling, the lottery has expanded time after time, without voter approval, incidentally, and the State has recently embarked on a half-hearted advertising campaign to dissuade teens from buying "scratchers." Wait, wasn't this to help the kids? Instead they are becoming addicted to gambling? I read somewhere that the Lottery was a tax on people who don't understand math......True that...
The places where the words should be held most sacred, and I speak here of the media, are the worst of all. You can graduate today with a four year degree in Mass Communication and Journalism and not have a clue how or when to use to, two and too. The spoken word as used by the average TV reporter is as mangled and miss-used as is humanly possible. I recently was watching a news story about a local 'drive-by' shooting. A young man had been nicked by a passing bullet and was shown with his arm bandaged and in a sling as he stood in front of the family home. The reporter then proceeded to explain that the young man had "Almost escaped death that afternoon." Really? Really? Really?
I used to play a game with my kids. We would take a sentence, for example, "I didn't say he stole the money." I would have them say the sentence seven times, each time placing the stress on a different word. Of course, the meaning of the sentence changes every time. Most of us learn this through osmosis. but like so many things leaned in context we often don't understand the intricacies of our knowledge.
The devil is in the details. The Large Print Giveth, but the small print taketh away. Ever buy a house? Did you read the loan documents? If so, good on you! Do you have a clue what they said? If you know what they said, do you know what they meant? But most importantly, does it matter?
We are so anxious to believe what we want the words to mean that we don't read or listen to what they are saying. Think of that commercial selling you 24 carat solid gold clad coins. "Why with the price of gold at over $1400 an ounce, we can only guarantee our price for 10 days." I did the math. The value of the gold cladding is almost 7 cents. When gold doubles, we'll be sitting pretty, sure enough!
What a thing means to me may or may not mean the same to you, if you know what I mean....
And lookie here, we haven't even touched on plain old lying yet! Words used in the worst way, words held as shields to cheat, words whispered to steal the precious gems of the heart, words sharpened and hurled to injure and maim, words waved to fan flames, words slammed down to crush dreams, words carelessly dropped that cut souls like shards of glass.
Recall the oath one swears when called to testify? To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Sure, as long as the lawyers ask the right questions, right? And speaking of lawyers, ever notice they are never sworn? Lawyers are not required to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Interesting, no? And these, my friend, are some of the cleverest wordsmiths on the planet.
The words I enjoy the most are those shared in the quiet times of intimacy between lovers. Words whispered for their ears alone in the small hours and quiet spaces.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Happy 2012
A new year has begun.
I really do not understand why we start counting all over again in the middle of winter. Did we pass a big 'Go' square in our orbit around the sun? It's not aligned with Winter solstice. There is nothing special on the church calendar that day, so why?
I thought maybe we figured it had been too long since the last party, but for many, the run from late October through December is all party anyway, so that's not it. Then I thought maybe it is supposed to be the last big party before we all tighten our belts and get down to the real work, but it seems like everyone just goes back to sleep to await Spring.
Spring. Now that would be a wonderful time to Start the New Year. The time of new beginnings. Critters are being born, or coming out of their winter lairs. Snow is melting to freshen streams and rivers. Green things are shouldering their way out of the ground to begin worshiping the sun. Flowers are busy getting ready for the bee/honey & hummingbird season. Perfect time to begin a year. Perfect.
Let's vote on it! All in favor?
I, for one, am looking forward to the coming year. I recall the ancient Chinese curse - May You Live in Interesting Times. We will definitely live in Interesting Times for the foreseeable future. But no matter how interesting the times get, there are always people that brighten my day with their joy and love, and that I cherish.
May your year be filled with love and the company of a few good friends.
I really do not understand why we start counting all over again in the middle of winter. Did we pass a big 'Go' square in our orbit around the sun? It's not aligned with Winter solstice. There is nothing special on the church calendar that day, so why?
I thought maybe we figured it had been too long since the last party, but for many, the run from late October through December is all party anyway, so that's not it. Then I thought maybe it is supposed to be the last big party before we all tighten our belts and get down to the real work, but it seems like everyone just goes back to sleep to await Spring.
Spring. Now that would be a wonderful time to Start the New Year. The time of new beginnings. Critters are being born, or coming out of their winter lairs. Snow is melting to freshen streams and rivers. Green things are shouldering their way out of the ground to begin worshiping the sun. Flowers are busy getting ready for the bee/honey & hummingbird season. Perfect time to begin a year. Perfect.
Let's vote on it! All in favor?
I, for one, am looking forward to the coming year. I recall the ancient Chinese curse - May You Live in Interesting Times. We will definitely live in Interesting Times for the foreseeable future. But no matter how interesting the times get, there are always people that brighten my day with their joy and love, and that I cherish.
May your year be filled with love and the company of a few good friends.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Long Ago and Far Away
I seem to be stuck in past.
Mayhaps it's the New Year channeling ghosts of days gone by.
Return with me the Summer of 1967. Lake Tahoe, North Shore, near Tahoe City. A roommate from college has hooked me up with a summer job. I'm working for a company that builds A-Frame cabins in the area. The crew are all near my age, some on summer vacation, some just hangin' out.
The company has rented two houses for the summer, and rents rooms to us...eight to ten guys in each house. No supervision except for our self control and (cough, cough) discipline. I feel so badly for the people who lived or stayed nearby that summer. We were atrocious.
One of the houses backed up to a campground, and a couple of the guys had watched way too much Yogi Bear as children. They would actually raid unguarded picnic baskets if the opportunity arose. The other house had a chest freezer, locked with a padlock. As we all know locks only keep out honest people. I doubt the rent covered the freezer contents.....
Then there was the stereo. Ours only had one setting for the volume control...wide open. Any complaints were greeted with not only trying to get even more volume, but playing the most obnoxious music we had available, usually Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention. I'm sure we ruined at least a portion of many a citizens' holiday. If any of my readers were on the other side of the fence back then...I am truly sorry.
The story I want to tell is set against this backdrop. It's Friday or Saturday night, doesn't really matter which. A gaggle of us want to go to Stateline and see if we can find some fun. There are enough of us to require two cars maybe three. We fool around for a while, but none of us are old enough to gamble. One of the guys says he knows a cool place.
We pile into the cars and head back towards Tahoe City. Before we have gone too far, the lead car turns off the highway to the left and heads down a driveway towards the lake. We pull into a parking area, stop and get out.
We are parked in a cul-de-sac in front of a house. The house is completely dark and all is quiet. Our 'Guy' leads us along a path beside the house, past the back yard and up to a sort of cliff made of granite boulders. Following the others I discover that the cliff is honeycombed with passages. Climbing through and under these large boulders, in several minutes we are all on top of the cliff behind the house and probably 50' above the ground. We all sit down along the edge of the cliff; our feet dangle over the edge.
The night is clear and cool. My light jacket is good enough tonight. A half moon provides ample light. I can clearly see the house below and wonder who lives there and how our man knew about this place. Would the owner return soon?
I hear some talk down the line, and someone seems to busy at something down there. I'm not sure why we sitting here, but everyone else seems content to wait so I am too. At the end of the line, a match flares in the darkness. Someone has lit a smoke. I see the glow of the ember on the end of the smoke. It brightens briefly, I hear a sharp intake of breath, then the glowing ember moves closer to me. This sequence is repeated a few more times and then it is my turn. I take a drag, and immediately exhale. The guy next to me says in a funny, kinda choked whisper,trying to conserve what he has just inhaled, " No. You gotta hold it in!" I do better next time.
Several more joints are rolled, lit and passed. My friend explains that I may not even feel the high the first time. I don't know what to expect, and have no clue if I am gettin' high or not.
Don't know if we smoked all he brought, or if somebody decided we were good, but the smoking part was done. Everybody got up, me extra carefully, we were on the edge of a friggin cliff, ya know! We began to go back through the rocky labyrinth again. I seemed to hear guys everywhere. I thought they we all ahead of me, but now I hear some behind me as well. Soon I am confused and a bit lost. This concerns me more than a little...what if I can't find my out...what if no one can?
Guys are laughing and hooting. Must not be their first time..... they seems to be feeling it just fine. I keep heading down every chance I get. Suddenly I find myself at the bottom of the cliff. Glad to have escaped with my life, I work my way along the path to the front of the house, sure I'll find at least a couple of my buddies at the cars. Nobody. Ok. I'll wait.
I can see the cliff behind the house. And an occasional flash of light from a flashlight or two the guys had as they climb around and through the rocks. And then it hits me.... the noise! They are laughing and hollerin' like crazy, makin' a ton of noise. Somebody is bound to notice, and the Sheriff will soon be on his way. Shit! I call up, "Hey! Guys! Hold it down! We're gonna get busted!" Nothing...if anything it gets louder.
Houston, We have a Problem! They aren't paying attention and don't realize just how freakin' loud they are. Seriously. I am concerned someone is gonna get hurt up there, and I know the cops have to be on their way.
Who really knows where strokes of brilliance come from? Not me, but I do recognize one when it strikes me. Suddenly I KNOW how to get them down.
I cup my hands to my mouth and bellow in the general direction of the cliff, " You men up there! This is the Police! Come down with your hands in the air!"
Dead silence from above. Then whispered calls amongst the guys, "What was that? Did you hear something?"
Again, "You! Up on the cliff! Come down! We have you surrounded!"
From the cliff, "Shit what do we do now?"
This is working soooo well, I get into it a little deeper. I begin to shout instructions to my posse, "Bill, take the dogs around the back! Joe, don't let 'em get by you on the right! This is your last chance! Come down with your hands in the air!"
Then, much to my amazement, I see them walking down the trail, hands high over their heads, looking dazed and confused. They walked up to me and said, "Where are they?"
Where are who?
Mayhaps it's the New Year channeling ghosts of days gone by.
Return with me the Summer of 1967. Lake Tahoe, North Shore, near Tahoe City. A roommate from college has hooked me up with a summer job. I'm working for a company that builds A-Frame cabins in the area. The crew are all near my age, some on summer vacation, some just hangin' out.
The company has rented two houses for the summer, and rents rooms to us...eight to ten guys in each house. No supervision except for our self control and (cough, cough) discipline. I feel so badly for the people who lived or stayed nearby that summer. We were atrocious.
One of the houses backed up to a campground, and a couple of the guys had watched way too much Yogi Bear as children. They would actually raid unguarded picnic baskets if the opportunity arose. The other house had a chest freezer, locked with a padlock. As we all know locks only keep out honest people. I doubt the rent covered the freezer contents.....
Then there was the stereo. Ours only had one setting for the volume control...wide open. Any complaints were greeted with not only trying to get even more volume, but playing the most obnoxious music we had available, usually Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention. I'm sure we ruined at least a portion of many a citizens' holiday. If any of my readers were on the other side of the fence back then...I am truly sorry.
The story I want to tell is set against this backdrop. It's Friday or Saturday night, doesn't really matter which. A gaggle of us want to go to Stateline and see if we can find some fun. There are enough of us to require two cars maybe three. We fool around for a while, but none of us are old enough to gamble. One of the guys says he knows a cool place.
We pile into the cars and head back towards Tahoe City. Before we have gone too far, the lead car turns off the highway to the left and heads down a driveway towards the lake. We pull into a parking area, stop and get out.
We are parked in a cul-de-sac in front of a house. The house is completely dark and all is quiet. Our 'Guy' leads us along a path beside the house, past the back yard and up to a sort of cliff made of granite boulders. Following the others I discover that the cliff is honeycombed with passages. Climbing through and under these large boulders, in several minutes we are all on top of the cliff behind the house and probably 50' above the ground. We all sit down along the edge of the cliff; our feet dangle over the edge.
The night is clear and cool. My light jacket is good enough tonight. A half moon provides ample light. I can clearly see the house below and wonder who lives there and how our man knew about this place. Would the owner return soon?
I hear some talk down the line, and someone seems to busy at something down there. I'm not sure why we sitting here, but everyone else seems content to wait so I am too. At the end of the line, a match flares in the darkness. Someone has lit a smoke. I see the glow of the ember on the end of the smoke. It brightens briefly, I hear a sharp intake of breath, then the glowing ember moves closer to me. This sequence is repeated a few more times and then it is my turn. I take a drag, and immediately exhale. The guy next to me says in a funny, kinda choked whisper,trying to conserve what he has just inhaled, " No. You gotta hold it in!" I do better next time.
Several more joints are rolled, lit and passed. My friend explains that I may not even feel the high the first time. I don't know what to expect, and have no clue if I am gettin' high or not.
Don't know if we smoked all he brought, or if somebody decided we were good, but the smoking part was done. Everybody got up, me extra carefully, we were on the edge of a friggin cliff, ya know! We began to go back through the rocky labyrinth again. I seemed to hear guys everywhere. I thought they we all ahead of me, but now I hear some behind me as well. Soon I am confused and a bit lost. This concerns me more than a little...what if I can't find my out...what if no one can?
Guys are laughing and hooting. Must not be their first time..... they seems to be feeling it just fine. I keep heading down every chance I get. Suddenly I find myself at the bottom of the cliff. Glad to have escaped with my life, I work my way along the path to the front of the house, sure I'll find at least a couple of my buddies at the cars. Nobody. Ok. I'll wait.
I can see the cliff behind the house. And an occasional flash of light from a flashlight or two the guys had as they climb around and through the rocks. And then it hits me.... the noise! They are laughing and hollerin' like crazy, makin' a ton of noise. Somebody is bound to notice, and the Sheriff will soon be on his way. Shit! I call up, "Hey! Guys! Hold it down! We're gonna get busted!" Nothing...if anything it gets louder.
Houston, We have a Problem! They aren't paying attention and don't realize just how freakin' loud they are. Seriously. I am concerned someone is gonna get hurt up there, and I know the cops have to be on their way.
Who really knows where strokes of brilliance come from? Not me, but I do recognize one when it strikes me. Suddenly I KNOW how to get them down.
I cup my hands to my mouth and bellow in the general direction of the cliff, " You men up there! This is the Police! Come down with your hands in the air!"
Dead silence from above. Then whispered calls amongst the guys, "What was that? Did you hear something?"
Again, "You! Up on the cliff! Come down! We have you surrounded!"
From the cliff, "Shit what do we do now?"
This is working soooo well, I get into it a little deeper. I begin to shout instructions to my posse, "Bill, take the dogs around the back! Joe, don't let 'em get by you on the right! This is your last chance! Come down with your hands in the air!"
Then, much to my amazement, I see them walking down the trail, hands high over their heads, looking dazed and confused. They walked up to me and said, "Where are they?"
Where are who?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)