EPISTEMOLOGY -- HE, HE, NO IT'S NOT ABOUT THAT!

I bet you never heard that word before.  Oh, you did.  Good for you.  I just know that you wonder what I am doing with that up there.  Well, I'm going to tell you.  For years now, many, many years, I have often pondered on the question of how I know that I know.  I often wonder how I know that others see me?  How do I know why people recognize me when they see me?  Why is it that I sometimes doubt that I can recognize someone if I see that someone whom I already know?  How do I know that cars are being guided by humans who can see, just like I can?  How old was I when it dawned on me that everyone can see, just like I do?  Why is it that some people can fool you into thinking that you are seeing something when in fact it is something else that they want to show you?  When did I become aware that when I touch someone, that someone feels just as I do?  I remember asking myself very often, even to this day, how some people have a word for one thing, and others have a different word for the same thing.   For instance, some call it rain; some call it pluie; others call it pioggia; some lluvia; some tudo; some ulan.  In some countries where there are a lot of variations on the same theme, there are just so many words in the theme, so the same spelling can mean different things in different parts of the country.  Sometimes the differences are separated by a line in the sand.  How does that happen?  The science that helps us to arrive at  the answers to these questions is called epistemology.  Actually, I guess it is part of psychology.  I used to know some of the answers, or at least the answers that we were told when I was in school.  They have perhaps been clarified by now, but I sure don't know what they are.  I just enjoy asking the questions.  The one about I see, you see, we all see, how and when do we get to know that?  The whole question of recognition is an interesting one to me.  How do we know that we are all human?  When do we get that knowledge?  Sounds easy, doesn't it...but go ahead, give it a whack and try to satisfy yourself with your own answer.  Good luck.
When do we know that a blind person is human?  What about humans who really look different that I do? Are they able to see and hear like I do?  How can they understand their speech when I can't?  Do they have grammar too?  [I told you the other day that some of them don't even have the verb "to be".]  Why do I get so many of these questions when I am in another country?  Oh look, these people dress just like I do.  Aiieee, that makes me think about the ladies in the Arab countries.  If you've never been there, here's one for you.  You've seen pictures of them all covered up except for their eyes.  You should be in public with them.  Watch their eyes.  WoW!! It's dark on the outside but those eyes tell you that there's a 1,000 watt bulb on the inside.  When those eyes tell you that the fire is lit, you KNOW it.  I wish you all could have that experience.  And they don't have to worry about blushing either.  It's all covered up.  So believe me, their eyes let it all hang out.  Now that's not epistemology.  Nope.  That's a much shorter word.  Pick the one you want.  I trust you will not have to ponder too long.
So, friends, all this just to tell you that I love the easy questions with the hard answers.  I spend a lot of time on this stuff when I'm driving.  Driving is a philosophical exercise. Except when I get interrupted by thoughts of 20 year old Arab ladies; well, their eyes, anyway!
This thought didn't go where I thought it would.  One thing is sure. It is all pure me.

GRADES OR KNOWLEDGE -- YOUR CALL

WISDOM

Those of you who know me can see this one coming.  It happened in first grade.  After getting through the "baby grade", I moved on to the first grade.  I was good with languages, French and English; I couldn't be beaten in Religion; my cursive (yup! less than 7 years old and I could write cursive, just like everyone else) was coming along and believe it or not, I enjoyed music.  Now that is a mystery to me because I can't carry a tune in a bucket.  It didn't matter much at that age, I guess.  Besides I got the hang of the staff, clef, sharp and flat quite quickly, so I thought that stuff was cool.  I still do, but that's the limit of my knowledge of music.  I was never a prodigy, but I guess you could say that I got by fairly well in school from an early age.  That never really changed during my entire life.  You might say that I am blessed.  I even learn stuff out of school.  Go figure.
Like I said, "It happened in first grade."  I got my first report card sometime in late October or early November.  That's when I got my first real lesson about parental expectations.  I got a bunch of grief for not having a string of straight 100's.  It started out with "Your father never got anything less than 100."  Followed by, "I know that you can do better than this."  My father, EFR Dion of deeply respected memory, came home, poured himself the habitual two fingers of brandy, sat down to the tune of, "Paul got his first report card.  He can do better."  So naturally I got the follow-up, "You can do better, but you're going to have to work harder."  Now hear this, Y'all, 65+ years ago we did not have such a thing as an A+, and yes we did have F, and it got given if you earned it.
The next morning after EFR Dion had signed the card, he sent me on my way with a blessing.  "You have 100 in religion and in conduct.  You better not ever come home with less than that in either one of those."  Period, end of story.
Hearing that made me very happy.  It meant that the decision that I had made on my pillow over night was the right one.  I will go to school to learn, not to please anyone, not even myself with grades.  Yes, that's what I did, and am still doing to this very day.  I never crammed a single minute in my life.  I never told my parents or anyone else.  I flat out didn't care what they thought about my grades.  Oh, it was fun coming home every single month with a report card that would start the wringing of hands and the wagging of fingers and the threats of dire things that would happen if I didn't work harder to get the grades that they knew I should be getting.  The chorus waned a little bit somewhere during the sixth grade when EFR Dion decided that he would half-heartedly support his spouse but he essentially gave up on trying to get me to strive for grade excellence.  One thing that taught him to come down from his high horse was that I never did come home with less than 100 in religion and conduct.
But wait, it's not over.  I am still in hot water.  Not that I really care, but the Voice from the Kitchen has been on my tail for a little over 25 years now for telling my children, "Knowing is more important than grades.  Just be sure that you learn all you can.  Grades are not that important."  Now the other half of this marriage will explode when she reads this.  Know why?  She'll remember that it has been at least a week since the last time she laid into me about that.  She is convinced that I ruined the lives of our two boys with my lackadaisical attitude about grades.  Actually, I guess I shouldn't complain.  There was a period there of about 35 or so years that I didn't have to listen to that.  
One final story before I go.  I had been teaching Theology for the Diocese of San Diego for some 14 years when, for the first time, I got called on the carpet by the brass.  So I went to the "meeting" to see what they had to say.  Turns out that a student to whom I had given an A- complained because I had broken her string of straight A+'s.  Prudence urges me to spare you the gory details of what followed.


So now you know why I chose the thematic picture at the head of this piece.  Wisdom first.  Wisdom infused by Divine Grace above all.  Grades are crass human metrics.  Those who would subordinate the acquisition of wisdom to the dominance of the metrics should aspire to politics more than to honest human and spiritual pursuits.  Period.

BABEL, QUITE A TOWER [PART DALAWA]

A true, proven method for an adult to learn another language, even if presented to you with tongue in cheek.
Tricks on how to become fluent in a language that you just have to learn.

1. Be convinced that it will be a great challenge
2. Do not give yourself less than one year [Trust me, you can't do it faster than a baby. I know.]
3. Make a friend from the country where your new language is spoken
4. Stop hangin' with mono-lingual Anglo-Saxons
5. Turn your computer language preference on to the one you want to learn
6. Laugh a lot
7. Buy the newspaper or a weekly magazine in the "other" language.
8. Watch "native" TV  [Computer streaming news from the country of your choice is a good idea]
9. Dream
10. Clown around  [Be childish, actually, and you'll absorb more while being silly]
11. Drink [I've known how fluent people can get when they are "oiled up."]
12. Go to "native" restaurants and ask to sit with cool people who don't know English
13. Get mad [I have a personal story about how effective emotional intensity can be as a help to get your point across in a new language.]
14. Be a dictator  [Be hard on yourself and on your teacher.]
If you want to learn an easy language, befriend a Brit, listen to the BBC and read "The Tablet."

*&%$@&^%%! IT WASN'T WORKING AN HOUR AGO

"Hey, Dix, I just had a strange thing happen on the system.  I'm being asked a question that I have never seen before."
"OK.  what did you try?"
"Well, A, B, C, and **"
"Still nothing?"
"Still nothing, my man."
"I have to see it.  We'll run it when you come by and see what we can do."
"You got it.  In the meantime, I'm moving on."
So, I moved on.  I did my work.  All the time I kept my fingers crossed.  Everything went well and I had a record billing session.  I was happy and didn't uncross my fingers because I was hoping that I could replicate the problem in front of the right person.  The guy who said, "I gotta see it."  Now that has to be weird.  Imagine wanting to be able to replicate a problem.  Actually, it's not really that strange.  Any time we have a mechanical piece of equipment that develops a "strange noise", we show it to an expert, and when we do, the noise isn't there.  Come on,admit it, you've had this experience before in your life.  So, I was actually hoping that this particular situation would repeat itself at  the crucial time so that I would not be embarrassed.  
Then, the second thing I wanted was that the problem could not be traced back to me, you know, me.  So, I wanted it to be wrong (remember a couple days ago?) but I did not want to be wrong.  Of course!  Did you ever feel that way?  You sure did, and you know it.
"Hi.  You want to show me your problem?"
"Yeah."
"Fire up your computer, get back to where you were and show me."  (Lord, mind your own business.  I need this thing to go wrong.)
"OK"
So I plug the machine in.  Press "start", let it boot up.  I direct it to the Internet location that I need.  I line everything up the way I had it.  You know the drill...click, click.  I.D., Password, Enter, Page up, highlight, right click, copy, paste, etc...  All the time I'm glad that the owner is behind his fuzzy wall while I'm doing all this.  I am sweating and grim.  Finally, just before I get to the last two clicks, he gets up, swings around the wall and ambles up to just behind my chair as I give it the last fatal click...  In a nanosecond I went from Limbo to Purgatory.  There it was, clear and unblinking.  The devastating error message.  That was good, but not perfect.  Don't forget, before I got to be a billing clerk, I used to be the guy looking over the billing clerk's shoulder trying to solve his/her problem.   So I braced myself for the 3rd degree.
"Where'd ya get the numbers?"
"From a previous billing."
"Why not from the data base?"
"It hasn't been updated yet."
"Try going here."
So I go "here."
"Why'd ja take that number?"
"Cuz it's the first one on top."
"'K, lemme check."
He goes over to the main computer that has the data base and other founts of information.
"Hmmm.   Wanna tell me the 'T...' number?"
I tell him.
"Hmmm.  Did you check the file?"
"I did."
"Hmmm."
[Stop it, will ya!]
"OK, I got it.  We'll have to update the data base and get the right number in front of you."
I can start to see the shine on my "get out of jail" key, so I suck it in and ask, "Can we check the detail of this other information before doing anything else?"
"Why?"
"I suspect a serious discrepancy there and it could be inconvenient in the future."
"OK."
"Hmmm."
[Not again.]
"You're right.  I got it.  "A..." has data-entry habits that make things different.  We'll fix it and we'll be free and clear."
BOOOOOOMMM!!! I break through the sound barrier and go zipping by St. Peter straight to 7th heaven.
What a gift!  There were no leprechauns involved and everything went the way it should when something is wrong.  I have to say that I am sure  that  there will be other times when the other scenario will develop, but for this time, all went well.  I am now happy, at least for a little while. Ya know why?  It's cuz it was the boss's glitch, not mine.  Schadenfreude!

BABEL, QUITE A TOWER [PART ONE]

LA TOUR DE BABEL

1 The whole world spoke the same language, using the same words.

2 While men were migrating in the east, they came upon a valley in the land of Shinar and settled there.
3 They said to one another, "Come, let us mold bricks and harden them with fire." They used bricks for stone,     and bitumen for mortar.
4 Then they said, "Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and so make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered all over the earth."
5 The LORD came down to see the city and the tower that the men had built.
6 Then the LORD said: "If now, while they are one people, all speaking the same language, they have started to do this, nothing will later stop them from doing whatever they presume to do.
7 Let us then go down and there confuse their language, so that one will not understand what another says."
8 Thus the LORD scattered them from there all over the earth, and they stopped building the city.
Before I get started, let me ask you if it looks to you like God was a little confused in His old age.  Look at what verse 5 says and then what verse 7 says.  The Bible is full of this kind of stuff.  Someday I'm going to write a humorous book about God's Alzheimer's condition.

One of my favorites is when the All Knowing, All seeing, All powerful God goes down into the Garden and asks, "Where are you"? (Gen. 3;9)
Or my other favorite, when God "...remembered Noah and all the animals in the ark..."(Gen. 8;1)  Sheesh!  Who put Him in charge?
Hey, get back to the Tower if Babel.  

Oh, yeah, I forgot.  I was too busy remembering that God forgets too..."

Anyway, the question is, how many of you have had to learn a language that you knew nothing about going in?  Raise your hands, boys and girls.  Hhmmm, just what I thought.  Lots o' fun, ain't it?  I suppose it can be tough trying to learn a language without being in the country where the lingo is spoken, written and thought in all the time.  I tried that, five times.  Once with German and once with Japanese.  In the German class I lasted for three sessions.  For the Japanese class I lasted for two.  Great record!  See Latin, Hebrew and Greek below.

As far as I am concerned, language classes are the worst waste of time invented by humans, ever.  Except for the teachers.  You know, the ones who take your money knowing full well that you'll never dominate the tongue until you go to Japan.
Then there are the seven years of book-learnin' Latin and the six years of the same for Greek and the four years of Hebrew.   I learned more Latin in the first six months of listening to Latin in a classroom and answering when I was called on than I did in the entire seven years of book-learnin '.  I'm still fairly good in Latin.  Even wrote a blog post or two in Latin to ridicule the bozos who shout and scream because they want Latin Masses.  I wonder why they never submitted comments?

I did get something out of Greek.  I still know the alphabet and I know several words.  I still have to resort to sign language for the call of nature, though.  Oh, yeah!  
Hebrew was fun, really fun.  Nothing serious there.  I mean, come' on!  A language with NO VOWELS?!?**  So I kidded myself through four years and I can't remember 5 of the 24 characters in the Hebrew alphabet.
Now, in Italian, I did better.  First, "Coca-Cola" was easy to learn.  The tough part there is that "Coca-Cola" is of the feminine gender in Italian.  Second, the writing is the same as ours, and, there are only 22 letters, vowels included.  BUT, they have an extra consonant, "gl" and it took me slightly more than two years to master it.  Don't believe the clowns who tell you that Italian is "easy".

Of course it is easy if all you want to say is "Passa mi la pasta, per favore."  To get beyond that and to be able to speak in public and to write grammatical Italian is one eye-bulging heavy lift.  Oh, by the way, I still remember the Italian alphabet.
Spanish has been a challenge.  24 letters, including the famous "ll" which is not 10% the challenge of the Italian "gl" but you have to understand that it does not come in the same section as "l" in the dictionary.  The killer in Spanish is the mastering of the verb forms.  I thought French was bad.  Spanish puts French verbs to shame.  Now that I have had to stop drinking alcohol, I have forgotten all the Spanish I ever knew.  When I speak Spanish, I still impress the daylights out of the listeners with the strange sounding words that come out of my mouth every now and again.  They sound Spanish, but they are really Italian words looking for equal time. 
Then there is Ilokano.  Ah, yes.  No verb "to be".  So you wind up talking like Yoda all the time.  "Nice girl." "Nice Girl?"  "NICE girl."  "Nice, Girl."  "Dog big."

"Dogmine." [Note the "mine" is not separated from "dog".]  One of my favorite stories about language has to do with Ilokano.  It's for when I explain how to become fluent.
Tagalog is a passive language for me.  I understand, but I do not speak well.  It does have the verb "to be."  By the way, Ilokano and Tagalog have the same way of writing that we do.  Both languages have about 24 letters [who cares?].  They, like Vietnamese, have the added consonant, "ng" and it has a different pronunciation value in all three of the above mentioned languages.  It took me a long time to master the Ilokano "ng".  I have never mastered anything in Tagalog.  I just mentioned Vietnamese because I wanted to appear smart and metro-sexual.
I'll get to part two later.  There I will philosophize about how to become fluent in a language that you know nothing about.

The sad thing is, God is getting even with us for thinking we are so smart, and we are still not believing that He's in charge. What a mess!  

See Bible quotes above.

PAIN

I have written a lot about pain.  Well, here's more.  It is a never ending, always interesting topic because it is so mysterious, and also, so omnipresent.  Today, I was asked about my father (EFR Dion in this blog).  I found it impossible to define him to the interlocutor without mentioning his daily companion, Pain.  For years the man hardly ever had a pain-free moment.  It is amazing that he even managed to have a sense of others with the constant heat of the devil's fire that he had in his leg and lower back.  Yet, he had his light hearted moments.  It has crossed my mind very often that it was not the physical pain that kept him serious.  I have always been convinced that the fact that he had a rather short life free of true responsibility made him a real serious dude.  I also came to know that if we thought  that he was tough at home, we were lucky that we didn't have to work for him.  All reports have it that he didn't suffer fools lightly.  My closeness to him showed me that in his life there were many more fools than in the lives of less tightly wound managers.  I have to confess that I have a similar perception of the world's population.  I think that I am going to get sent behind St. Peter's shed because of it too.
One of the interesting aspects of this conversation is that it is happening, not by design, mind you, at the very threshold of what would be his 98th birthday.  Here I sit at nearly three quarters to a buck, and he didn't even make it halfway to 98.  But you know, in his condition, it was better.
I also think of the way the world has developed and I wonder if he would have survived under similar circumstances just a mere ten years farther along, say, mid '70's.  Despite my many reminiscences of him, I always come back to the deliverance from the pain and I thank God for letting me understand life in that light.
Also, I have to say that I think that tolerance to pain is a part of our lives.  We have two sons who are tough as nails when it comes to pain.  One of them has the gout very badly, but despite the slower movement that it imposes on him, I have never seen it stop him.  I have seen "The Voice from the Kitchen" endure pain for rather long stretches without "sitting it out", so to speak.
I have had some pain in my short life, but nothing compared to the daily suffering of my father.  The deepest thought I have about him, in the depths of my being, is that he knew that the pain was not his to keep.  It was his to convert into spiritual energy for those about whom he felt responsible, many of whom he loved, but couldn't reach except through the sublimation of his pain.  This thought started to grow in me some years ago, sprouting from compost too complicated to describe in this space.  I am convinced that this sublimation continues to touch us to this day.  Hey, it has to be us, we're all that's left.
The first stirring of the thought began on the way home from Enfield on the day that I left the seminary and he drove me home.  We didn't talk much, but there was a lot of communication going on.
You know, if I let myself go, I could write a book about this.  Gouty fingers and all ... :-)!

BEING WRONG IS NOT A BAD THING -- MISTAKES ARE AN OPTION

This is NOT anathema.  I don't have to repeat the story of Thomas Edison who, after failing to make a working light bulb for what (watt ?) is reported as being hundreds of times always referred to his ineffective attempts as "lessons of how not to do it the next time." (Paraphrase)
The other night I was attracted to a PBS television presentation during which the new owner of the intellectual company TED said, "The fear of being wrong is the greatest enemy of progress."  His example was our common experience of the growing child.  Being wrong for a growing child is not a negative.  It is a positive attempt to conquer a personal deficiency.  The lesson should be that as adults we should also be free to be wrong.  But early in life that freedom is taken away from us.  There comes a time in our social development that we are belittled when we make a mistake.  From that moment on, learning becomes more difficult because there is the added emotional burden of shame.  It gets worse when we go to work.  The goal is "zero defects"; "perfect attendance"; "five minute weekly PowerPoint presentation with only three slides",etc.  There comes a time when we live under a  crushing weight of correctness pressure.  There comes a time when we decide that the pressure that is camped on us we will transfer to everyone with whom we deal too.  I know, I do some of that.  You know what the sad things is?  I know better.  I read a book one time (One after Dick and Jane), and it was about psychology being a science.  The author repeated several times the premise to his thesis that psychology is a true science because the "theories" that make up the foundation of the practice of psychology are all open to be proven wrong.  I never forgot that.  I happen to subscribe to that thought.  Real, solid truth is never afraid of being open to the possibility that it could be shown to be only partially true, therefore wrong.  Think of  it.  Take God, for instance.  Have you heard an attack on His truth lately?  Do you have some questions of your own, maybe? Huh?  Doesn't seem to bother Him much, does it?  See what I mean?  Look at my favorite Italian, Galileo and some of his buddies.  They weren't 100% right, but they were right enough that the rest of us learned a lot trying to poke holes in their assertions.
Therefore, Boys and Girls, for the little time that we have left, it is my pleasure to have thrown something at you that you perhaps have not given much mental time to lately.  So, have fun.  Go out and get something wrong, for a change...on purpose...just to get someone else in an uproar...see how far that gets you!!
Blame me.  I'll defend you.

YOUR LARDER = THE WORLD

IT'S A SMALL WORLD

Remember the other day when we talked about the world being gathered in certain cities with which we are all more or less familiar?  Well, we went to the market and here are the countries that we visited in the last few days and have the souvenirs to prove it.

We have Rice                                 Thailand
We have Rice                                 Philippines
We have Grapes                               Chile
We have Leeks                                Mexico
We have Nectarines                           Chile
We have Coffee                               Colombia
We have Bananas                              Ecuador
We have Wine                                 Australia
We have Olive Oil                            Italy
We have Horseradish (Wasabi)                 Japan
We have Rice Vinegar                         China
We have Mustard                              France
We have Salmon                               Norway
We have Salmon Heads                         Canada
We have Mussels                              New Zealand
We have Tea (Black)                          India
We have Tabasco Sauce (Red)                  Louisiana, U.S.A.
We have Thai Hot Sauce (Red)                 Los Angeles, U.S.A.
We have Tarot Root                           Guatemala
We used to have Olive Oil from Israel, but we just ran out
We do have Apples (Fuji, of course)          Japan
We have Lemons                               Quinn Court, S.D. CA
We have Acorn Squash                         Quinn Court, S.D. CA
We have Crab Apples                          Quinn Court, S.D. CA


Now that is only what we encountered for our needs in the really near past few days.  We still have to get our favorite Viet Nam Soup and fish sauce (Noq Mam)and our mouth watering Afghan bread, not to mention the Olive oil from Israel that I mentioned had run out.
Don't get funny and ask why we bought wild salmon from Norway and farmed salmon fish heads from Canada.  The Norwegian salmon still had heads.  The salmon heads from Canada had no bodies.  So there!  You know the answer, so just laugh about the pictures that pop up in your mind and move on.
In my short lifetime, friends and family, I have gone from "butter beans and potatoes" that were kept in our cellar over the Winter, to living in a world that has no seasons, no weather, no time and in many, many ways, no boundaries.  It is a world in which humans have found a way to corral fish and take the seeds out of watermelon.  It is my sincerest prayer that people could be as universally accepted by each other, one and all, with as much taste and appetite that we bring to the food that we produce by the grace of God.  Help me pray to God about this one.

FIVE PEOPLE

Go to comments, click, do it, submit under "anonymous", publish.

No names, just relationships.

NEW YORK CITY = THE WORLD, EFR DION // SAN DIEGO = THE WORLD // ME

SAN DIEGO BAY FROM OUR KITCHEN WINDOW

My father used to say, "If you want to see the world, go to New York.  The entire world can be seen in New York City."
For many years, I believed him.  I still do.  Except that there are other cities that I have come to know where this is true,and some more so than New York.
Chicago, Los Angeles, Paris, Rome, London, Rio de Janeiro and Vancouver.
Somewhere in there you will find smaller, more compact cities that are very cosmopolitan also, but because they do not have the breadth of the larger ones named here, they are not on the present list.  I had to leave certain other cities off my list because of my lack of familiarity with them either because I've never been there or my friends haven't made any comments about them.
This thought came to me today because of this:  I went to my Middle Eastern,Chaldean Catholic barber shop where there was an Italian soccer game on the TV (Inter contra Cagliari) being broadcast by a Mexican channel and being announced in Spanish while the barbers were making their own comments in Aramaic.  I  was sitting there speaking English to the only woman working, a Vietnamese.  She and I were the two tourist attractions in the place. Sad, this is not a tourist attraction neighborhood.  This is a "melting pot" corner of the region.  I noticed something else...All the men had perfect haircuts.  Now this gives the lie to the Anglo-Saxon saw, "The barber has the longest hair in town."
Frankly, this is why we love living in San Diego.
That and the other natural qualities, the weather, the climate, the gorgeous creatures of God, the big blue ocean, the miles of green, green grassy parks along the bay, the mountains looming in the east, the multi-cultural festivals that abound and knowing that so many people envy us for the very fact that we live here, and not there.  So, there, schadenfreude!  It's not Christian, but it still feels good.
Enjoy the snow.








.

THE ORACLE -- "OUR DAD" -- TRIBUTE TO EMÉLIE DION MORIARTY

EMÉLIE 50 YEARS LATER -- 

This is a rather crazy day.  There are many of those in my life.  Just ask anyone who knows me, even just a little bit.  This one is a little over the 50% bar though, so I'll tell you why.  We came to San Diego from where we live, 90 miles away.  We do this often.  About once a week.  I had worked rather steadily at my home-based job so I had a mess on and around my work desk.  So before I left our humble abode, I grabbed all the paper that would fit into a shallow box and decided that I was going to "clean up, tear up and burn up."  Into the trunk it all went.  We got to San Diego and soon after, out of the trunk it all came and I started in on doing what it would take to reach my goal.  NOW, you've all heard the axiom, "Anyone who knows how to read never succeeds in cleaning out the attic."  That's right.  Since I know how to read, yeah, x 7, you know that I am in trouble.  So today, I was only confronted with 3x.  It should have been easy, right?  HA!  The good news is that I really did not have that much.  But it has been enough.  The other part of the good news is that it is mostly dog-eared poetry, English, mostly.  I do have my wonderful description of Springtime, 100 lines of classic French Alexandrine verse.  Oh, I read it, of course, and I have to say that it is still as good now as it was when I wrote it.  But, it will have to be for another time.  I also found a bunch of stuff by Denis and by Emélie.  Some good, some better left lying in the box.  No offense.  We all have a bunch of that stuff.  Why we don't burn it is beyond me, but we don't.  I also found a whole season's worth of a rag that was titled "THE SHAKER GAZETTE"  published and edited by one, pseudonomistically known as "B Z B".  It was a bulletin board fish-wrapper that appeared now and then pinned to the porch wall and purported to report on the "doings" of the seminary student body in Enfield, NH.  [In those days it was N.H.]  Man, it is soooo puerile, sophomoric and many other negative words.  But, it too maintains its place in my life.  YUK! but don't you dare try to burn it.


NOW, THE GOOD PART, ACCORDING TO THE TITLE -- THIS ONE BY THE POET LAUREATE OF 1 HARTFORD STREET, SOUTH HADLEY FALLS, MASS.
Published nearly 50 years ago in the local Holyoke Transcript Telegram, March 4, 1961, nearly 3 months after the expiration of EFR Dion.


Our dad is up in heaven,
   That we know for sure.
For heartaches and loneliness
    We wish there was a cure.


Our dad is up in heaven,
    Let's all go tonight.
    we're sure that we'd see daddy
    and he'd be a welcomed sight.


For daddy now there'll no pain;
    His life on earth is done.
He's waiting there in heaven
    for all of us to come.


We think sometimes that God is wrong
    And we are always right,
But God is much bigger than we
    And not only in height.


Sure we'd like to have our daddy
    But he has eternal rest.
Who are we to say
    That God did not do best.


Our dad is up in heaven;
    We can't see him anywhere.
But someday it will be our turn
    To go and meet him there.
Emélie M. Dion
South Hadley Falls


I have the original clipping for anyone who wants a scanned file.

WHERE HAVE ALL THE UNDERLINES GONE?

SEE THE POST UNDER THIS ONE?  THERE WERE A BUNCH OF LINES IN IT THAT I COULD NOT MAKE DISAPPEAR.  THEN I CHECKED IT OUT IN LIVING COLOR, AND THEY WERE GONE.  
WHHooooooooo!!???  WHAT A DAY!


ENJOY YOURSELVES.

W-A-Y TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS HOW?? TIME FLIES !!

By the way.  I somehow touched the wrong button with my senseless fingers and caused the underlines that you see here.  I do not know how to get rid of them, and I do not have enough time to investigate the matter further.  So this clownish disclaimer will have to suffice, for now.  Hopefully, it won't happen tomorrow.
As to the title, it comes froom a comment made by Anna May.  You can see it at the bottom of yesterday's post.  Actually, the one before this one.  So, I respond...
Oh, thank you for saying that.  I wondered where all the time had gone.  The sweet kindness of Anna May has made it so clear, all of a sudden.  It is right here, in my hands, right where it belongs.  I mean, I keep looking at the clock and it keeps telling me that there just isn't enough time left on ITS hands to share some with me. That really burns me up because I thought thatclocks were invented to give us the time.  When that didn't work I turned to the calendar, and that was even worse.  I have a calendar on my computer that really has time down to a science.  It has the date and the hour and the minute, right there clutched closely to its cold hearted breast.  Do you think that I get to dip into that reserve? Mmmm?   HAH!  No way.

So now, here I am with time on my hands but NO time on the clock because the flies have it.  No time on the calendar either because it is all too week.  (Grrooaaannnn!)

The one think I think about is the saying  that we all have the same 24 hours in every day.  Ever hear that one?   I disagree.  I know that mine are shorter than those that I observe with other people.  I know it because I see them walking around the park like time has stood still.  They are just there making sure  that they capture all the droppings of their Dachshund in their little plastic bag.  I know this because I see it outside my window while I am busting a gut working for the success of the owner of the transportation company that pays me.  Hey, if their time were as short as mine, they wouldn't have the long hours to follow a long dog along a long path with time added for collecting excrement that the dog takes the time to leave behind every now and then.  Now tell me, that has to be "stretch time."
So, see.  The time that people have from the clock or the calendar is a lot longer than the time I have on my hands because neither the clock nor the calendar is taking care of me.  If I had the friendship of the clock and the calendar I could  be building model airplanes for fun instead of working for a living with this short time business.
Finally, I leave you with this silly thought: "Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana."


HEY, GOT TIME ON YOUR HANDS?  VISIT MY FISH POND.  IT'S ALL THE WAY TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SCREEN.  PLAY WITH THE FISH BY PASSING YOUR MOUSE OVER THE FISH "POND"  CLICK YOUR MOUSE TO LEAVE THEM SOME "FOOD"

NEW AGERS CRASH AND BURN, AQUARIUS IS NOW CAPRICORN

Capricorn:                                     Jan. 20-Feb. 16. 
Aquarius:                                       Feb. 16-March 11. 
Pisces:                                           March 11-April 18. 
Aries:                                              April 18-May 13. 
Taurus:                                          May 13-June 21. 
Gemini:                                           June 21-July 20. 
Cancer:                                          July 20-Aug. 10. 
Leo:                                                Aug. 10-Sept. 16.
Virgo:                                             Sept. 16-Oct. 30. 
Libra:                                              Oct. 30-Nov. 23.
Scorpio:                                         Nov. 23-29. 
Ophiuchus:                                   Nov. 29-Dec. 17.  
Sagittarius:                                   Dec. 17-Jan. 20.


NO WAY AM I AQUARIUS
I've been a fish (pisces) out of water for too long to give anyone the satisfaction of sticking me into another corner of the universe.  I've been a shark all these years and a shark I'm staying.  None of this Splishy-Splashy, New Age of Aquarius watery sweet stuff where everyone's divine and in love with everyone and everything.  NUTS.  

I have always been very happy being an OX as defined in the Chinese Universe.  Now's my chance to assert myself.  Lower my head, pound my hoof, swish my tail and plow ahead like I really mean it.  I think the Chinese have the right idea about me.  




I been thinkin':  Imagine, all the New Agers have been born again!  Wow! Now they're all gonna go to heaven.
We Catholics are gonna have to keep WORKING at it.
'Cep me, 'cause, I've been working at it like an OX anyway.  HHeeeOOOO.
I have also been clearly warned that the Voice from my Kitchen has always been SCORPIO.  She announces that she loves it that way and that the stars be damned, the world will have to accommodate to HER, period.  She has no help from the Chinese...they claim she is a RABBIT.  Big mistake!


There has been some interesting news about the realignment of the chakras, much to the consternation of the Tantrik Yogis.  They are concerned that the kundalini serpent may get lost on his way up from chakra three to five.  It appear that a split would occur between three and four and an eighth would be added by lodging the new energy center and what used to be the fourth in the armpits rather than in the chest area.  This would balance the divine energy and make human personality more stable and peace seeking.  There are mighty important shifts in the deployment of divine energy these days.  One has to wonder if it will affect the power of the labyrinth.  Will the sacred geometry be tweaked along with the alignment of the stars?  One would think it would have to accommodate itself to it.


If you want stay warm and happy, stay with Jesus and His Church.  Here you will find an infinitely unchanging relationship of LOVE.  

THIS IS A THOUGHT FROM BELOW, ABOVE, AFAR AND UP CLOSE

FROM BELOW:  "Management don't know ***!"
FROM ABOVE: "What do they know?"
FROM AFAR:   "They're completely out of touch."
FROM UP CLOSE:  "They need to get their hands dirty."
                             "They have to pay the bills now and then."
I was in a situation this morning that was conducive to the conversation that you see above.  From a person who has spent a lot of time in all of the positions and heard and even uttered some of the sentiments quoted here, I can assure you that the conversation was very interesting indeed.  It just so happened, as it usually does in my case, that I was talking to a person from above, helping me, a person from below.  I was sitting there waiting for him to do the work that was going to relieve me and extricate me from an embarrassing situation.  He kept apologizing for the time it was taking and complimenting me on my patience.  After a while I paraphrased an Italian saying that I had heard many times several years ago, 
"Patience is the only thing that poor people have."
We mumbled some philosophical agreements to one another about that and went about our business.  That's when I realized that I was now on the ground floor and that I had many occasions to opine about those above, you know, the ones who don't know ***!.  Then, on the way home, before I got to the house, I realized that it is a good thing that they don't know ***!, otherwise they wouldn't make the mistake of letting me work at home.  It was  then that I flashed back on the wit of St. Agustin who said about Adam and Eve, "Oh, happy fault that it caused the coming of the Savior."  Yeah, really.  If the owners for whom I work were smart, would they allow me to work at home?  How do they know whether or not I have myself on their "clock" at this very moment?  I guess they will have to just trust me.  I hope that they won't "smarten up."  Then again, I will have to work my tail off today to assure  that the numbers will be equal to what they expect to get paid for next week.  HHmmmm, looks to me like I should have waited until tonight before getting into this "365 Thoughts..." thing at this time of day.  Looks like it's going to be a sleep-rationed night in this household.
I do have to admit one thing.  Even when I was "from above" and "from afar", I did have moments when I admitted to myself that there is indeed a disconnect between the floor and the ceiling.  There is just so much wall that is needed to complement the perfection of the room.  It is on the judicious line of contact between the two that the communication needs to be as complete as possible.  The space in the middle, between the floor and the ceiling, is only as comfortable as the contours allow it to be.  Now, more than ever, because I've been in both places, and "done that", I realize it and try to support those for whom I am the floor in the most comfortable fashion possible.  
In order to do that, I am going to shut this down now and get to work.


I did work all day.  Now, say good night, and, oh, by the way Denis, don't forget to shut off the light.  The switch button is on your side, ya know!


Sorry, Folks...Inside joke -- :-)

BLANK --- BLANK --- BLANK ---

Blank --- I don't have the courage to leave this white
Since after all, I've paid ten dollars for this site.
So whether or not I have an idea or a thought,
I refuse to let this sandbox of mine go for aught.
So if you think that this is an exercise without a source
Just as a knight afoot, is still a knight, without a horse,
Can you imagine what an idea could possibly be
Without a thought brave enough to set it free?
Or are you sitting there, wondering still
If food for real brain growth this space will fill
Or if nothing but strained and insipid drivel
Will drip, drool, slobber, slaver and sniffle
Until the slimy goo over the lower edge will flow
To invade the cyber circuits and cause them to blow?

There are many facts that we all must admit as truth
Not all of which really make us equally happy, for sooth.
There's the one that says, "Length of days make us grow old."
Then there's the one that states, "Better to be meek than bold."
There are also those who would have us believe in our heart
That "Gold and silver and collections of great art"
Are the source of our happiness during our earthly wait
For our ultimate appointment before the Pearly Gate.
Let us then wend our way in life at a gentle pace
Fill our hearts and souls with love, peace, joy and grace.
Share these with each and every one, every day, all around
So that no tears for us will fall as they lay us in the ground.

Yes, I did too make it up.  
20 minutes is all it took.
After all, it ain't a book.
See it all in just 1 look.
It all fits in 1 small nook.


Ted Geisel you know I'm not.
All I've got is a dog in a pot,
Cuz Ted stole my "Cat in a Hat"
'N left me with a gnat on a bat.
My son's got a bout with the gout
'N my wife's got a lout lay-about!


Well, friends, now you know for $%@** & very sure
What you got this time
Ain't really worth a dime,
But is a blibot filled with the world's finest manure.

WILL I SLEEP TONIGHT?

IF THIS ALL I DREAM ABOUT, I'LL BE OK

Last night, I did not sleep.  The reasons are too complex for 400 words.  So, in just a few, here's the simple version.
a. Disturbed by so-called devout Catholic disseminating viciously disparaging email about the Obama family.
b. Spent gobs and gobs of time constructing a "teaching" item for another blog of mine to make the truly Catholic point in response to the above item.
c. Spent lots of time trembling about stuff I should have done long ago and is still on the shelf.
d. Spent lots of time dreaming about "sausage type" caricatures of deformed human beings.
e. Spent long minutes "forcing" myself to devise a perfect, no-miss strategy to help my son find work.
f. Spent what seemed like an infinity in recriminations about all the stuff I do without remuneration.  Kept digging deeper for solution.  Dry well!
g. "Sausage type" figures getting terribly grotesque and scaring me awake to a toss & turn frenzy.
h. Flashback to "bad trip" coming down from a ketelar (Super "K") high. (40 years ago!)
i. Switch to figuring out how to send Saint Valentine's Day greetings to my sweethearts in various timezones around the planet earth so that it will indeed be Valentine's Day when they open the email.
j. Spent some time thanking God for such a benign pre-occupation and asked Him to wipe my mental slate clean so I could sleep.
k. I think He laughed, because it was clear that it was already 5:00 AM.
l.  I had promised the Voice from the Kitchen that I would arise at 6:00 AM.
m. I think I fell asleep because the next thing I remember is hearing my name being called followed by the announcement that 6:00 AM had come and gone.
n. I thanked God that He had kept me alive through the night.  I did strongly suggest that tonight, He do it with a stiff shot of somnolence inducing "Blank Brain Syndrome" relaxation.

So now that it is just 10 minutes past midnight and is actually Saint Valentine's Day, I think that there is a slight chance that all my dearly beloved readers will in fact receive my promise for loving prayers on the correct calendar day, no matter where you are.


Luy Ya's All.  God bless you with peace and joy, no matter what day it is.

365 DAYS AGO -- PART TWO -- FROM A LONG TIME, LIKE-MINDED FRIEND

GREAT GRANDFATHER

Introduction:

I must tell you all.  My dear Friend George Woodworth is working on a family history project that is a mandate from God. (He perhaps would not categorize it as that)  I am sending this to you all with his permission. I an doing this because I too am a firm believer that what we leave behind in writing is forever.  It is the indelible signature of our soul.  As is clear from George's writing, it reaches beyond times that we dare imagine and dives into the hearts of those in our family community.  I hope you enjoy George's thoughts during what appears a month full of memorial anniversaries.

Hi Paul,

 I certainly remember Belle's mother and father.  Every time I think of them, I think of how "hard they worked and at an age when most people would have long been retired." 

108 years ago on February 2nd my great grandfather died (the one who didn't particularly like Catholics) and the one who I am converting his diary to a computer disk.  Over the last year I have read his material 4 times and will do so at least one more time - doing the final editing of all his material.  One can say I have "walked in his shoes" a number of times; each time the steps became much more personal and real to me.  It has been a wonderful and interesting journey.  Of course, I never really knew him, but I tell you I certainly will not forget him.  I am attaching a picture of him for your interest.  Also, I have been working on compiling an interesting history of his oldest son who died in the Civil War. 

I have also been working on a rather complete history of my Mother and Father and brother, which I will pass on to other family members eventually.

All in all, I feel, passing on a written word or two is the best way to leave a trail for someone to remember you.  That is why I feel this work is important, because there certainly is no pay in doing so!  After all, the Bible is a very good example!

Take care.

George

365 DAYS AGO

90 YEARS OF LIFE

365 days ago Florfina Bungag, "Lola" to many, was born into the eternal embrace of God Himself.  She is pictured here on her 90th birthday, about 10 weeks before her emigration to heaven.  On this day, she was indeed the queen, seen here with the first born of her nine children.  
You have seen other pictures of her on various pages of my blogs.  The last of which can be found here.
Today and tomorrow the family will get together to pray for her soul while not forgetting to pray for her to intercede for us all before the Loving Father that we all adore in heaven.  
It was also during this time last year when our family was going through some rather challenging moments.  Belle had just been operated on for the excision of her gall bladder and I was knocked off my feet while in the clutches of a ravaging attack of the gout.  I was effectively incapacitated through February, March and April.  Now, thank God, I am back on my feet and back to normal.  The good news is that I am about 30 pounds lighter.  The bad news is that I am uglier than those ugly, wrinkled Chinese dogs. I am glad that God invented fig leaves in the Garden of Eden.
I also seem to remember that Roland was having his challenges around that time too.
This is also the month that signals what would be the 98th birthday of EFR Dion.  (2/24).  July will be number 100 for "Mina". (7/31)  When we are born, and when we grow up, we don't give much thought to whether or not we will be remembered 100 years after our birth.  It does happen.  The trick is to be remembered 100 years after we die.  The closest I can come is Cécile Dion (+ c.1943)?  I'm going to need some help on this one.  Gloria?  Anyone?  Denis?  Emélie?
That's it for now.