Talk like a Pirate Day

Payday is so nice! It puts a bloom on the flowers and my smile. The pay will be gone soon but right now it's time for a small celebration.





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Brian

My baby brother Brian died last Sunday in Rincon, Georgia at age 51. I understand that the couple weeks before he died he was playing Dodgem Cars on a borrowed electric scooter in the plat where he lived . He was feeling a lot better because he had told his physicians to discontinue the chemotherapy that was supposed to give him longer life but almost killed him. Apparently it was pretty peaceful , at an early family Thanksgiving dinner when somebody checked to see if he needed more of anything ,and suddenly there was nobody at home. At least I am told. I didn't know him nearly as well as the other siblings because he was barely in grade school when I went off to college. He wound up joining the Navy and did something or other on the deck of an aircraft carrier, arguably one of the most dangerous work environments in the world. Got run over by an airplane, crunched his foot and spent some time in a hospital in Spain getting it fixed. The xrays looked like the back of the nuts and bolts department of a hardware store. And he wound up working and going to school with one of those big aircraft companies in the southeast when he was separated from the Service. Aerospace Technical Writer, I think, that kind of thing. He found a wife and daughter along the way - Renee and Sarah -and was interested in everything. Over the past few years he set up a big variety of websites that had to do with animals, nature, rockets, space and patriotism and he participated in numerous computer technical sites worldwide to help other users. You can find his thumbnail index page at

http://b40.50megs.com/thumbs.htm.

He also created most of the background designs for his websites.


My take on all this:


1. I feel bad when people I love and care about sail out of my life. I think that dying with Thanksgiving dinner is better than living longer and mostly dead. And mostly dead, perversely, costs a lot more too.

2. I'm reminded of the Psalm in the Bible that stipulates there is a time for everything, being born, dying and every thing in between. I see life as a giant continuity, a big roller coaster where some of us jump on for the ride and, at some predesignated point, jump off again, or into the next life, or another life. It's all defined ahead by Somebody and that's how it is.

3. I think that our friends and family are on loan only, to us, by the Universe, and we are on loan to the others who care for us. We belong to the Universe, or God, if you will, and the loans will be called in eventually. But what a ride while they're in force!

Happy Thanksgiving! Here's to you Brian and Renee and Sarah. Ta!

Highway

There are a couple good movies about wrecks flying around the ether this week. one police force in the UK has combined forces with some students and a very good studio to produce one about the dangers of texting while driving. I suspect that most students will watch it for the excitement and horror and their parents will take it very seriously and worry twice as much. Here is a taste and other episodes can be found on You Tube. Warning: This film clip depicts highly realistic and graphic footage of an auto accident.









The Public Television people have produced a drama called COLLISION that has appeared on Masterpiece Contemporary the past two weeks, about a collision on a motorway (freeway) outside London in which every individual involved in the accident has a secret of some kind. A great mystery, good characters and an interesting accident investigation. There's a place by way of the link http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/index.html where you can watch both episodes in their entirety. Neither of these is probably suitable for Christmas Eve but if it's been a dull holiday week..... Ta!

A Song for the Holiday

It sounds to me like a song for Christmas so I cut it out and put it here. If I feel like writing more soon, you will get more soon.




This song is dedicated to Karen Sanders, my classmates in grade school and all the Little Ladies in their Gowns.



I keep thinking about moving in a year. If I adjourn to Lakeside Apartments where the Old People live, I get round the clock security and maintenance, one giant living room plus a kitchen and bath, stunning views of the City and an extra $400 free each month in my budget. I wouldn't pay utilities. Not to mention all the old ladies I can chase. About three hundred. I may have a feagued-up knee but none of them can run very fast either. If I decide to take up residence there it wont happen until October of next year but I am getting rid of books and packing most of the rest just in case. This would be a fine excuse to get rid of about two thirds of the stuff I own and trip over every day.

The Falling of the Light

It’s been a whole month since I wrote anything in here. I must have been experiencing hedonistic visions. Two weeks ago Daylight Savings Time slammed shut with a bang. I just wish they’d leave the fooking sun alone and quit changing the gears on the clocks. It also niggles because this whole thing started during World War I, presumably so that soldiers could have a couple more hours of daylight to butcher each other in the trenches of Ypres. Just when I’m getting going really solidly in my day, three in the afternoon comes and the warning bell sounds. In two more hours it’s dark and I wonder if there really was a day to begin with. Most of the leaves are in the gutters and the trees have holes in them. And the night wind is chill.

Of course, with most of the daily span less than opaque there are compensations to be had: reading mystery books; restoring old smoking pipes; cooking solid and unhealthy meals and eating, eating, eating. Tonight we had chicken tenders, slaw and sourdough bread. That was before the cookies. Watching movies on Feelyvision and sleeping just because I can are kinda’ fun in themselves.

I read on the Internet news that the Army psychiatrist who shot and killed all the soldiers at Fort Hood, Texas, in the name of religion, has stabilized, may no longer be able to walk and has intense pains in his hands. Sounds like karma to me. I am not an advocate of killing but I am a giant fan of law and order. Himself will presumably have plenty of time to think about the consequences of his personal jihad rolling up and down the halls of Leavenworth prison and learning about chronic hand pain.

Geez! If that’s all the news that’s fit to print, it’s a hell of a world, isn’t it? Ta!