Thursday, June 16, 2022

Aliens, Bigfoot and the Multiverse

grew up loving comic love of reading didn't start in an English Lit or American Lit class. It started with Batman, Superman and Archie comics. The bright and dark colors along with the fun and make believe took me away. My grandparents lived in a little coal mining town called Altoona in Northeast, Alabama. Named after a larger city in Pennsylvania after some folks from the Nawth came South.

 Anyway, there was a drug store that was pure Americana. Soda fountain, comic books and a small town innocence. Beside it was a little place where you could get burgers and ice cream. I would walk from my grandparents house to get a comic book. Stop by and get a two scoop cone and sit on my grandparents front porch and be in another world.

As I got older I graduated from comic books to ghost stories and sports stories. Then when I got a library card in my bigger hometown of Gadsden, Alabama I haunted the stacks and was always in a different world. 

I read both fiction and non fiction. My favorite subjects were the supernatural and of course UFO's were part of it. I loved the tabloid type headlines and drawings of little green men from Mars. Starry night time skies and quiet neighborhoods being visited by streaking lights falling from the skies. 

I didn't know if there were aliens but I knew there were aliens. I still love the pop culture of it. I still love to fall down internet rabbit holes (which didn't exist in my youth) and read the possibilities of UFO and alien abduction writers. 

However, I do it as much for fun and the "what if" wonder of looking at the night sky more than trying to prove anything. I can entertain the possibility of other worlds and dimensions without making a religion out of it.

Also I have read a little about the multiverse arguments. Everything that could happen has or will happen. Everything we do starts a different timeline and branches off. Everything we chose not to do we did do somewhere. But, that one just makes me dizzy. So I shift back to the lights in the night sky.

Then there is Bigfoot. Truth be told I never really had much interest in Bigfoot. I mean discovering a hairy,smelly ape just didn't move my interest needle much. Still, some of the Bigfoot hunting TV shows are interesting. But when it comes down to it I'm very skeptical of an animal running around in the woods that never leaves poop, bones or DNA. 

I enjoy listening to podcast while I exorcise or do chores. Paranormal interviews. I never try to ram my views down anyone else's throat. But, if anybody ever tells you there are no credible people working and proving ESP or remote viewing or past lives or non local consciousness then the following is very informative.

Donald Hoffman, Dean Raiden, University of Virginia Perceptual Studies, New Thinking Allowed podcast, Buddha at the Gas Pump podcast, TOE podcast with Kurt Jimengal. There are many more but those are good jumping off points.

But, if you're like me then you have your own worldview and you just want to share fun and intelligent information. I recommend looking at the night sky. Enjoying things that interest you and never asking permission from anyone else in order to explore your part of this journey.

I love a good atmospheric horror movie. There is a lot of junk out there. But also a lot of fun and chills. The Haunting 1963 Robert Wise version is my all time favorite horror movie. The Evil Dead 1-3 is very underrated. Friday the 13th with no sequels and Halloween with no sequels. Saturday the 14th was funny and entertaining. The Faculty is highly underrated. The Exorcist is great and I enjoyed the uncut version. Willard and a remake in the 90's or early 2000's if memory serves was fun. 

Funny story about Willard.  Cindy had gone somewhere or was working late. I really can't remember. But I had popped in a vhs of the Willard remake and it was dark. I never turned on lights back then when I watched movies. So as the evening progressed and the shadows got longer. The popcorn bowl was empty and the soda finished I was well into the movie. What was that shape on the floor? It was dark and I hadn't noticed it before. The little voice in my head said RAT! But, I said "no, that's silly. We don't have rats. Watch the movie." But the little voice said a little louder "yeah, but what if?" so I kept an eye on it and watched the movie. Cindy came in at the end of the movie and flipped on the light. "What is this doing in the middle of the floor?"

Then she picked up my old tennis shoe and asked me how my evening had gone. 


Friday, June 10, 2022

God, guitar and life.

 Lord of creation I'm getting old. I feel it when I pick up this guitar. I hear it in my strained voice and how quickly my hands get numb. But then I pick a little "Tuesdays Gone" and I close my eyes. Just for a minute I swear I need to brush the hair out of my eyes. 

I feel like I'm 22 out in the country and my hair is dark and long. My eyes are bright and I can feel the first time I ever managed to pluck out the pattern to "Hotel California." Not the lead. Just enough where somebody could at least recognize the song. 

I start to think about life. You know Holy One an atheist once asked me to define God. That was a little tough at first. But, later in my growth out of the religious dogma of my life I understood something.

I couldn't define God because I couldn't define myself. There's a scripture where it says something like "how can you say you love God. Who you have not seen and yet hate your brother who you have seen?"

I didn't know who or what I was or who anybody else was. So how could I put you in a box and define you? So, I'm searching for you in myself these days. In the eyes of other's. In every creature and in my deepest thoughts and intuitions.

But, what I'm really doing is searching for myself. My essence. My sense of "I Am." not so much my memories of childhood or adulthood. More of my own being. Just quietly waiting and being still.

But my guitar is also my meditation. My breath isn't flowing the way it did in my twenties. My hair isn't brown and thick. But, my sense of being is still just as strong.

In here where I live and where every once in awhile I get a glimpse in a dream or in the way the sun slants that light never dies and my spirit has joined this dance before. 

Holy One. When I say Holy One. I'm trying to describe something that is indescribable. That sense of pure knowing and universal being that all consciousness is part of. 

But then again how do I even describe myself? Am I completely a manifestation of chemical reactions inside my brain? Science has given me some more years onto my physical life. I'm so thankful that our consciousness has evolved to being able to keep hearts beating longer where they once stopped early. 

I'm so glad that what ever I am I'm part of that larger intelligence that can use our tools to create a science of medical breakthroughs.

I think one day we will come to explore consciousness in ourselves and realize that what's going on isn't produced as a by product of a chemical/physical reaction. One day soon we can outgrow the myths of angry deity and primordial soup. 

Music makes me feel young again. Southern Rock makes me want to go down a country road with a cold Pony Miller. Country/Western makes me remember my mother's love of George Jones and Loretta Lynn and my step dad's love of Hank Williams. My maternal granddaddy was a coal miner and he thought Loretta Lynn hung the moon.

I don't listen to music  constantly. I like my quiet time. But, sometimes I pull out my guitar and I'm somewhere else in time. I crank up the sound in the car and I'm Slow Ride bound with Foghat. 

Tonight I thought about my life. How quickly it's gone by. I know I have an appointment soon with my cardiologist and maybe new medication or other changes. So, I ask "God don't you notice my time isn't as long as it was?" But then I think "Well. You've had a lifetime." I don't know how many years I have on this leg if the journey. But, it's a lifetime.

I suspect I've done this journey before. I don't feel the need to convince anybody else these days. I'm insecure at times. But not so insecure that I have to have everyone else to validate me. 

I always recommend "Autobiography of a Yogi." by Paramahasna Yogananda. I hope I spelled that correctly. Not because I'm a Hindu. I'm not. 
Not because I think every word is absolutely true. I'm skeptical. 
Not because it's a great read. It's a little ponderous at times. 

But, because the overall view of God/Goddess/Eternal Consciousness/Ground of being resonates with me.
Also because chapter 43 touched me in a way that made my own  abandoned Christian views on resurrection start to make more sense again. 

So tonight my meditation was my guitar. Or my guitar was my meditation. My prayer tonight comes from my former pastor at the Gadsden Vinyard back when I still did church. 

He once said "Steve. Sometimes the only thing I know to pray is "Oh God" oh God, oh God." that one works for me. In the face of injustice, war, scary times and health issues and inner turmoil.

Oh God, oh God, Oh God!


Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Prayer, meditation and sanity

 Recently I came across an old Saturday Night Live skit on YouTube. Sally Field was playing a religious fanatic that prayed about everything. From matching socks to a hedge of protection around her husband as he walked out to the garage. Phil Hartman played a very outdone Jesus who was trying to get her to understand that she was over praying trivial matters. It's funny and Google is your friend if you want to look it up.

But the skit while funny was a little mean spirited and yet accurate. Let me explain what I mean. I have been on the other side of the obsessed religious wall. So a part of me was squirming with how easily I identified with the religious fanaticism. So I felt that by making so much fun that there were actually people of faith on the other side of that skit who were possibly being tormented by being made fun of.

I've never understood why people who don't believe anything think that trashing hope in others is a sign of intelligence. On the other hand the truth is that we all wake up in our own skin everyday and we all have our own coping mechanisms. Unless you are harming a child or abusing another person or creature I tend to think it's an individual journey and where you find strength is fine by me.

I no longer follow a religion. I was raised in church. I have read the bible. I have earned my worldview and it's still evolving. I still identify as Christian. Notice I didn't say "A Christian." the idea that the divine would have so much love that he/she/source would join us in this dance of the flesh inspires my life. Every cancer patient, rape victim, war ravaged refugee or homeless person is God breathed and God expressed. However, every evil act and selfish prick is also an image of the corruption of the divine. Not that the divine in us is corrupt but that we have cut off others from the source in us and therefore corrupted our true being.

I'm not a philosopher or a theologian so I'm bowing out of stating that my above conclusions are true. It seems right to me or I wouldn't have said it. But, I'm still asking questions and working through life. So your own mileage will vary. 

I understand some people think prayer is just talking to one's self. Maybe it is. But, I find that I am calmed and at times can talk it out with God and come to an inner honesty that I otherwise didn't have. I'm 65 years old. I have read some spiritual teachings that talk about a higher self. At one time in my life I considered that ridiculous. But, as I've heard and read more about consciousness as fundamental cause instead of a product of a material universe the thought of higher consciousness seems feasible to me.

Meditation also keeps me sane. I can move to a quiet place. Breathe and put in my ear buds and close my eyes and listen to a guided meditation or a soundscape of running water via a phone app. Or just get quiet. Watch my thoughts and my breath and consider the other person's point of view. My anger gets less as the need to be "right" subsides. It's not a one size fits all. But it works for me.

I remember taking a psychology class when I "wore a younger man's clothes" as Billy Joel said in his song. The teacher if memory serves was a psychologist. During class discussion I told her about a friend of mine who had a lot of issues. I asked her how to fix him. Insert laughing eye roll At my ignorance here. Not that she rolled her eyes. But, I roll mine now at my silliness.

She said something I never forgot. She said "well Steve are you willing to spend weeks, months and maybe years in building your friend back up after you tear down his coping mechanisms?" 

Of course not! I don't have time for that. She said exactly. So unless you can offer strength and a better solution to your friends mental health maybe you should leave it alone. Just be a friend. 

I hope I was. I miss my friend terribly. He left the earth too soon. Not out of self harm thankfully. 

  I don't know why bad things happen to good people. I don't think anybody deserves torment from a supreme deity just for the "sin" of being born a human being. 

But, the idea that the death and torture of the Jewish people or the cancer ward of a children's hospital is answered better by a cold insane useless and meaningless atheism than by hope is completely insane even stupidly insane in my opinion

So, no. My hope isn't in angry gods and biblical inerrancy. It's not in saying magic words and quoting Allah or Buddha or Jehovah. It's not in winning Darwin's sperm lottery.

It's in the time I had a childhood dream and 65 years later I still remember it. It was a confirmation that I have purpose and meaning and belong to God. Not religion. It's in the times I railed at the Almighty about the stupid way the world worked and in my own spirit heard "I know." just that. No explanation or one size fits all religion. Just "I know" that's enough at times and at times it isn't. But, it gets me through some rough times.

I keep my visions to myself...Stevie Nicks

Since I don't want to offend my devout friends any more than I have or cause my more secular friends to get a straight jacket. I won't go into the dreams, visions or intuitions I've had that point me towards hope in this world but mainly on the flip side of this life. So I'll hush now. 

I find for me Meditation and prayer keep me sane and balanced. 

Once I came to a river. I knew it was cold. Beside me I heard get in. You have to go to the other bank. I said it was too cold! It will kill me. But I jumped in. My body froze. It was absolutely chilling. I was dying. My spirit soared. Absolutely glorious! I was in joy....A dream from several years ago.

So, I know this journey is hard. We have little pockets of joy and pleasure. We have accidents, disease and oppression. It's not fair. But, one thing I have hope of. There is a river and we are never truly alone. 

I wrote the last part of this after the massacre in Texas of innocent babies and teachers. A mentally disturbed person committed a great evil. So, I'm aware of how shallow words can be in the teeth of real tragedy and grief. I'm not going to give new agey blather about spirit or Christian just so stories about God's will. But, I'm also not going to the hopeless idiocy of a blind indifferent universe to the suffering of human kind and all creatures.

I still know there's a river. I still know there is purpose to the existence of every life and there is a world that this world is a pale reflection of.


Saturday, May 14, 2022

Walkin' my mind to an easy time.

 You can leave it all behind. Sail to Lahania. ..Eagles

 I saw a picture of Billy Carter on Facebook labeled 1976. It took me back. I graduated high school in 1976. The year of the Bicentennial! Everything was red,white and blue. Even high school marching bands used those colors no matter what the actual school colors were. It was such a huge world and America seemed to own it. 

You were the Apple of the public's eye as you cut the ribbon at the local mall...Styx

That attitude and arrogance would eventually bite us in the butt. However, that's a different story. This one concerns youth and sunshine and a world of possibilities.

School's out for Summer. School's out forever...Alice Cooper

But what a world! 18-19 years old. Girls in halter tops and Pony Miller's and a little smell of a doobie on a hot Southern evening. I was so optimistic about the world. Politics were rarely on my radar. 

Don't try and stop me. Cause I'm headed for that stormy weather soon...Queen

But 1976 was a long time ago. The world now seems much smaller. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those old farts that think people were better back then. I saw enough cruelty, casual racism, meanness and insensitive acts to know better. But everybody for better or worse didn't have a microphone. 

In my solitude you haunt me with reveries of days gone by.... Billie Holiday

Back then we didn't have alerts beeping on a device in our pocket keeping us fired up 24 hours a day. I couldn't tell you a single football player my favorite team was recruiting. The only thing I really knew about the president was he had a similar accent to some of my old elementary school teachers and a brother who liked beer. I didn't know if Glen Frey and Don Henley got along but I knew an Eagles album would release soon. I didn't know or care what my favorite author thought about the weather or if a famous comedian had said something inappropriate 20 years ago.

Ooooh that smell. Can't you smell that smell...lynyrd Skynyrd.

I smell something awful. You're telling me. Why don't you take a bath sometime...Three Stooges

So I try from time to time to take a bath. I love technology but I cut it off once in a while. So I can just breathe. Somewhere a woke person is blaming me as an old white man for the misery of the World. Somewhere a right wing politician is yelling about the love of God while demonizing a family of brown people trying to find a better life. But in my moment of breathing I go deep inside.

Sometimes I find a still small voice saying "it's okay. This is just a dream." Sometimes I find compassion for the upper middle class millennial taking pot shots at my lower middle class Southern upbringing. Or understanding for the self righteous right wing hypocrite that has no idea what it feels like not to have money for the rent.

But other times I find the voice of an old friend who loved Rock and Roll and passed way to early. I can hear him and it makes me smile. (warning! Language alert)

Fuck em if they can't take a joke.


Sunday, May 8, 2022

Twitter and driving in my own lane

 I was out in the yard. Cool late Spring day in May. This is the South so Summer's bearing down. But, today there's a breeze and a hint of a chilly morning on the way. Once the humidity and the heat settles in I won't see a day where I could use a windbreaker before late October and possibly into December depending on the weather flow. 

Been walking my mind to an easy time. My back turned towards the sun...James Taylor

But right now I pull my cap a little lower to shade the Spring Sun and feel a cool breeze urging me to find a sunny spot as the day grows late. 

I get a Twitter alert on my phone. Now I'm a 60 plus year old boomer. I don't have an internet presence and I don't have hundreds of followers. Nobody worries about my buying habits as far as pop culture goes. I've aged out. But I still know how to follow my favorite sports teams. I check the news on my tablet and I follow certain authors and I enjoy paranormal Facebook and Twitter news along with YouTube. 

I glance at my Twitter feed and I see "she's a liar." I'm a little shocked because I'm having a peaceful moment. Cindy is out of town and when one of us is out on the road we keep our phones near just in case the car breaks down or there is some need. Otherwise I might not have my phone with me. I do leave it on rare occasions. Especially when I need a quiet moment.

Everybody's talking at me. I can't hear a word they're saying. Only the echoes of my mind...Nilsson

But it's on now and Twitter is letting me know that a dude who disagrees politically with a dudette is calling her a liar. There is of course link after link to back him up. He can recite chapter and verse why his adversary is evil. I yawn and clear my feed.

Not because I don't have an opinion. I got plenty of them. You're welcome to them. All you gotta do is ask. But, I hardly ever give them these day's. Because these day's people are "Big Mad!" They pounce and people named Rachel and Tucker and Donald and Hillary are the truth bearers. The issues can be  diminished to Left vs right. Conservative vs liberal. Black vs white. Male vs female. 

Boy you better get on one side or the other...Eagles

Just choose a lane and a cause and you will be provided with marching orders. Us vs them. Take no prisoner's. Yell libtard, racist, inbred. Yell baby killer, Nazi. That way you don't have to listen for understanding. You just kick butt and Take names.

Here's the thing before you think I'm just an out of touch boomer. People aren't worse now than they were back in the day. It's just that back in the day everybody didn't have the microphone. Networks reported the news 30 minutes 5 nights a week. To find out everybody's past you had to research at the library. 

It wasn't better. It was just a little less in your face. People weren't kinder. They just were not as consistently furious the way they are now. 

Hey you! Get off of my cloud!...Rolling Stones

I love technology. I used to carry a book if I got bored. A guitar tuner when I broke a string.I needed a dictionary when I didn't know a word. I had to wait for a song on the radio and I had no idea when my favorite group would release a new album. I had no recourse if I missed a tv show or a sporting event. 

I didn't have a blog to vent or an online group to share interest with. Now I can reach in my pocket and there is my music player, guitar tuner, book, dictionary, instant message from a friend in Europe, football, baseball and basketball games and scores and classic rock songs and performances all on one device! Movies and tv shows and social media of long lost classmates, friends and relatives interaction with writer's, scientist and performers that I'd never meet in regular ole life.

took the blows and did it my way...Sinatra

Still. I'm glad 17, 18 and 19 year old Steve wasn't caught on Facebook back in the 1970's. Because I've made a few mistakes in my life. I'm not ashamed of much. But, I'm glad some 25 year old social justice warrior or evangelical can't pull up pictures and video. Because I've lived a life. I've been stoned, drunk and drugged. I've been to the church alter and I've been to bars. I've lived a life.

Shirley Mclaine who I happen to like and admire although your milage May vary. Once wrote a book in her old age saying "I'm over all that." she then listed several things that she used to argue and fuss about. But in her older years she just didn't have the energy to spend on trying to convince people that they were wrong.

You don't have to attend every argument to which you're invited...Buddhist saying

I feel something similar now. Recently I've noticed that I just don't have the energy anymore to try and manipulate people to see things my way. I also see holes in my own arguments that I honestly didn't see a few years ago.

I haven't changed my opinion on certain political and religious issues. I've just gotten a little less self righteous and I try to put myself in the other person's shoes. Or at least try to understand they wake up in their own skin everyday and their journey is different than mine. Not better. Not worse. Just different. 

I wonder sometimes what the world will be in 20 Or 30 years. I'm at that age now Where I either won't be here or will be so old it won't personally matter to me. I mean I'll be somewhere. I just don't know if it will be in this world. 

I know where I came from and where I am going...Jesus

I think I've done this before. I'm not sure. but I highly suspect it. I know where ever I come from and where ever I'm headed is more real and I'm more able to be myself than I am here. So give yourself room to be Human. Give other's the same room. 

I didn't come here and I ain't leaving...Willie Nelson

I don't know if life is planned or not. I tend to think we are here for a purpose but it's not a one size fits all world. Stuff happens! I'm just trying to leave more good vibes than bad. 


Saturday, May 7, 2022

Vague Soul

 there I am pondering my late Fall or early Winter journey through life. Important stuff like will Alabama win another national championship or two in my remaining time on earth. Also stuff like who was the better front man Mick Jagger or Freddie Mercury. How even at my advanced age pretty women are still eye catching and should I meditate sitting up or lying down? The usual thoughts that a person has along with the random "how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop?" can we ever really know?

  Then outta nowhere I see a post by a person talking about a "Vague God" and how we can't worship God if he's vague to us. Now I finally decided some time ago not to argue with atheists and devout Christians. I'm not an atheist (just doesn't seem likely to me from my own journey) and I'm not a born again fire and brimstone Christian. (been there. Got the t-shirt.) So I wasn't much interested in getting into theological arguments. I'm still not.

But it got me thinking. Which at least got my mind off of women and tootsie roll pops for a few minutes. There's a great line in there somewhere but I don't feel clever enough to find it right now.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Vague God's and what am I doing here? 

The thing is. I'm not sure just what I am. Having heart surgery a few years ago really messed with my sense of identity. It's hard to explain but it weirded me out to think I had a valve all of my life up until a little over 60 years old. Then they threw it away. Now there is another valve there and it came from a cow. 

I know. It sounds odd but trust me. You or at least I woke up feeling like something was taken from me and i was a little angry and confused. Thankful? YES! But, still I had moments of depression and my temper and patience was really thin. Being a social worker I knew my mouth was going to overload my butt with administrative people if I didn't retire soon. 

But, back to thoughts of vagueness and what I am. I came to think about them cutting me open and I thought about where I had been during surgery and what they had found. Now here's the thing. I wasn't obliterated but I also wasn't conscious of what was going on around me. Maybe I was in a holding pattern. I do know that at some point after I had recovered and gone home I had a white light experience during a meditative state between sleeping and waking. But during surgery? No real memory. They didn't find anything in my body that was me. So I began to think about who or what I was.

I have read some Buddhist writings that resonate with me. But, it's missing something. For me the Christian concept of God manifesting in the flesh still works better. No matter what I might think of Christian theology which doesn't work (for me) I was also struck by "Autobiography of a Yogi" which didn't always resonate but chapter 43 alone was worth the trip.

Still. What was I? I was pretty sure that killing the ego and becoming nothing wasn't and isn't something I ever want to aspire to. (Sorry Buddha) Still what was I when I was under anesthesia? What was I when I found myself in pure white light? Well in surgery I wasn't obliterated. In the light I wasn't a body. Or at least not in this one. So it got me thinking. If you could "find the soul" then it could be killed. So the soul was not a thing. Not a wet organism in your head. Not something tied up inside the body. It is "No Thing" which is much different from nothing.

  So I started to think that the theologian arguing against a Vague concept of God was wrong. We don't even know what we are. So how can we define God in a concrete manner? 

We have to be vague. We have to use words like love and intent. Words like Son/Daughter of God. It's also how come we are So easily convinced of wrath and eternal judgement. Because we want or think eternity is a thing. A place in a Newtonian physics driven world. When in reality we are talking about "No Thing"

So there I was with a scrunched up brow and a Vague headache. But, at least I knew I could stop trying to win the argument with atheists, preachers and other fools. 

Because I knew one thing. I was much more than nothing. That like God. Like the male and female aspects of the Divine. I was just as much a fool and just as wise as anyone else. I was and am pure aware "No Thing."

If you read this far and haven't called mental health or unfriended me I thank you. 

Friday, April 29, 2022

Past, present and being here now

 Be here now...Ram Dass

  I think a lot about my past. My misspent youth. Religion, marijuana, beer, agnosticism. Back to religion, moderation and just being. People, it seems to me run from the past. I did for a long time. If I could just ignore it then it didn't happen.

And I thought happiness was Lubbock, Texas in my rearview mirror...Mac Davis

I remember thinking about this song. Lubbock in my rearview mirror. I was damn sure I wanted rural Alabama in my rearview mirror. Just erase it from my memory. I didn't get the girl, the gold watch or anything else. So I'd just forget I was ever there and ward off all thought of it like warding off the evil eye. It couldn't get back on me if I didn't acknowledge it.

Wherever you go there you are...old saying

I even decided once I got a girl to never take her back to the places of my past. But the past is funny in that it's constant. You can say "I'm not the same person" but you are. There's a scene in "Baby Jane" where Betty Davis character says to Joan Crawford's character in a New England drawl "But ya are Blanch. Ya are in that chair " referring to Blanch saying if she wasn't in that chair. Substitute a Southern accent and my past is saying (But you are Steve. You are still the same person) 

After all. Tomorrow is another day...Scarlet O'hara

But when I began to understand that it wasn't rural Alabama or the South. It wasn't my mother divorcing or moving from a big school system to a small rural one. It wasn't because I didn't win the sperm lottery. It was how I reacted. I made it positive or negative. It was up to me. 

So you can lay there feeling sorry for yourself. Blame it all on me. But let me tell you something son. I messed up. I made mistakes. But you know what? I'd do it all again. So blame me and lie there or get up! It's up to you. ....actual gist of conversation between my mother and my young self.

I got up. Took awhile and some more ongoing screwups but I at least decided that I needed to take control of my own life. At least take responsibility.

Touch em announcer after a homerun. 

So these days I touch all the bases including my past. My past is part of who I am. After all what is time? Maybe from the viewpoint of the architect of the universe (God) time is a river and already seen from end to end. So it's all important. You don't have to run from the past. But it's still flowing so you never completely leave it. I'm trying to flow with the river these days. 

As a matter of fact the only changes I'd make would be the way I've treated people and other creatures during my swim in the river of life. I wouldn't change one toke, one sip of beer or one alter call. If you're Southern that probably makes sense. But, if I could take back the cruelty of words I've said to others that hurt them. Take back rocks thrown at dogs and insensitivity to God's   creatures then I would. I really would. Because as I get older the faces and times are before me. I'm anxious to forgive and I like to believe that forgiveness freely given is freely returned back to me. 

But now happiness is Lubbock, Texas growing nearer and dearer...Mac Davis

I would never have believed it. But, I sure do wish I could step back to 1975 or a little earlier. I miss the little innocent North Alabama coal mining town of my grandparents. I sometimes think I need to go back and pick up something I dropped. But then again one day I'll find the main current of the river. I'll cross it and be home. Again. Until then I'll keep swimming.