THE DOOR

The door, 11/25/2010

This is the door to the bedroom where the two Dion Boys passed from infancy to quasi adulthood.  Along the way they and their father did some interesting "guy" things.  Some of the more interesting things were the moments along the way when I would read to them from books that I thought they would enjoy based on the simple relative judgment that they were writings that I had enjoyed.
It started with the Old Testament stories that I had heard from my Grandfather.  By the time that I had the time to share tese stories with my children, I had the wisdom to do whatmy Grandfather had done and spared them from the exposure to the more racy ones.
We went from there to the Hobbitt and the three books starring Frodo vs Gollum.  That took two years of nightly, or quasi nightly bed time reading.  Along the way, The Door developped into a contemporary pictorial exression of the rights of passage of the masculine elements of the household.  As far as I can tell, the latest addition to The Door was in the vicinity of 2005.  There are three protagonists, Jo-El, Jason and Enrique.

The present state

This is the door in its present state. 11-26-2015.
There are a lot of stories
behind The Door.  If only
the prime mover behind it
would regale the world with
the story.

 

A DOCTOR'S [MD] WISDOM

Hey, I went to see a doctor today for something really benign, but interesting.  For about a year now I have this uncomfortable feeling in the upper left hand corner of my back.  It feels like an itch but even my best Chinese backscratcher thingie doesn't make it go away.  So, two weeks ago I decided to talk to my Primary Care Sawbones about it. I figured, "Hmmm, maybe this could be cancer or some such pesky disorder.  So, I showered, powdered and other such things that you do when you prepare do disrobe in front of a stranger.  I have to admit, I really felt quite spiffy.  Amost like going to the Junior Senior Prom, for goodness sake.  So after the usual preliminary security screen, like you know, First name, Last name, weight, age, blood pressure, pulse, temperature, what drugs you're on to stay alive and where does it hurt, I was ushered into the 10 x 10 cubicle, still fully clothed and told that the doctor would be in shortly.
I sat there for about 5 minutes and then the Man walked in after knocking on the door to announce his presence.  That was rather unnecessary since I was still as modestly covered as when the nurse abandoned me.  I told the Doc why I had come.  He put his hands deftly on my back,over my clean shirt, rubbed around the area a little bit and said, "You've got arthritis."  Heee, Haaww, this guy has been seeing me for 12 years and he announces to me that he has discovered that I have arthritis.  I was torn a being at a fork in the mental road...Was it better to discover that this guy finally found out that I have arthritis or to celebrate that arthritis is not nearly as deadly as cancer?  So, guess what - I shrugged and asked, "So how many people have arthritis in the upper back?"  He said, I don't know, but you do."
Now, he can also read my mind.  I'm saying to myself, "This guy never even came close to touching my bare body and he announces that he knows I have arthritis.  Maybe he's gambling because he knows that it's not cancer and that I have had the gout for nigh on to 45 years."
So, because he can read this, he says, "Go down the hall to X-ray.  If I see anything strange, I'll call you."  Hmmm.  I paid $25.00 for this!
So, I go to X-ray, pay another $25.00, get a few pictures taken (even at my age she protects the jewels with the lead shield) and I walk away.
I don't have anything to worry about.  The prognosis is for non fatal pain - for now.
Rrinnggg...Yeah, a week later.  The doc is sending me to a speciaist in "Physical medecine."  No kidding,  Physical medecine.  As opposed to what?  Or maybe I should ask, related to what?  So, what the heck, I may as well go, even if only to find out what Physical medecine is all about.
I go.  Same routine.  This time,when she asked me how tall I am I said, "Tall enough so that my feet reach the floor."  She laughed, and when all of that was determined, I went into another 10 x 10 room.
In comes the doc.  A mere child.  Small Asian kid.  I'm thinking, "This guy ain't getting physical with me."  He's looking at me a little strangely, but I can't figure out why.  But then he shows me the famous X-rays and repeats the diagnosis, "You have arthritis."  Then he answers the obvious question, "Not too many people have arthritis in the upper back because there's not much bone movement up there."  Phew, I'm glad we got that out of the way.  I'm also glad that now I can actually celebrate the fact that I have arthritis.  I tell him that and he smiles and says, "I know why you're happy.  I was surprised to see how much better you look in person than you do on paper."
Huh?  "Yeah, when I walked in after reading the stat sheet and saw you I thought that I was in the wrong room."
So there.  Not only do I have arthritis in a weird location but I found out all about it without taking one stitch of clothes off to find out.  That's good, because if that young boy doctor would have seen me naked, he would have discovered that I look worse in person than I do on paper.

QUID EST VERITAS ?

Dicit ei Pilatus: "Ergo rex es tu?"  (So, you are a king?)  (Ref. John 18; verses 37 and 38)
Respondit Iesus: "Tu dicis quia rex sum ego. Ego in hoc natus sum, et ad hoc veni in mundum, ut testimonium perhibeam veritati. Omnis qui est ex veritate, audit meam vocem ". 
Dixit itaque ei Pilatus: "Quid est veritas?  What is truth? (Pontius Pilate)

This question was posed 2,000 years ago, and it wasn't new, even back then.

This article is provoked by the fact that I feel as though I have reached a point of about 210 degrees fahrenheit when it comes to the way that the lack of truth in our daily interactions has just about become 100%.  
The truth does not seem to be a part of our daily lives any more.  Even in our very own living rooms.  I was at a birthday party (a quiet, old people's type celebration) and a newcomer to the group of usual suspects turned out to be quite the conversationalist.  He has a lot to say and I allowed my uncontrollable curiosity to take sway and found myself listening to him for about 30 or 40 minutes with nothing much more than grunts and nods from me.
He strung out a line of various "conspiracy theory"stories that were rather interesting, but not compelling directives to factual truth.  The best one was the complete assurance that the Bush family engineered the assassination of JFK.  Now, I have to say that in my view, the Bushes could not organize a three car funeral, let alone the assassination of a president.

As I separated myself from him I mentioned that he should know that I was convinced (still am) that the vast amount of things that he said as though they are truth rung false to me.  His reaction?  "You don't trust the government and the media, do you?"  I told him, "No, neither your stories nor theirs strike me as being 100% worthy of my trust."  He just walked away.  I am very sure that he is happy that he won't have to put up with me at his Thanksgiving shindig. Which is true...and mutual :-)

Then, today I heard that the New York Times had an editorial taking the government and the presidential candidates to task for not correcting certain egregious fabrications that come out of the mouths of politicians.  The one that has been catching the greatest amount of attention these days is the story that Don Trump has been telling which describes his witnessing of thousands and thousands of Arabs dancing in the streets of Jersey City as the Twin Towers came crashing down in New York, across the East River on 9/11/2001.  One report in reaction to the New York Times' editorial was that everyone, from politicians to Joe Lunch Bucket is convinced that politicians, the media, the official government offices, the military, in short, EVERYONE lies -- all the time.   So to call anyone back to the factual truth is not worth the effort.

So, it appears as though we are living in the greatest cloud of dishonesty (if 100% lying is dishonest) that has ever existed.  Pretty daunting isn't it!  Everything that is spoken is a lie. Everything that is thought and not spoken is also a lie because it is the retention of the truth. 

Have you noticed that I did not include everything that is WRITTEN?

Therefore, be careful what you fight for

WIN SOME, LOOSE SOME -- REMEMBER 'EM ALL

You know, ours is a very strange life. I have two thoughts today. One old one and one new one.  This is the old one and I am visiting it because it has been there for over a year now. Not only that, the new one is a real strange one and it is really challenging.  Nerdy challenging...geeky stuff.  So geeky that there is no picture for it, I am sure.  So I will have to wait for the thought that will come to rescue me from the depths of a thought that can't be pictured.  Go ahead, turn that over in your head for a while and you'll see why I am starting with playground swings.  Now that you can picture.  Assuming of course that you lived somewhere in the vicinity of a playground that had swings.  Yeah, we had them where I grew up.  When I was older they disappeared.  Someone told me it was because there was not enough money to pay for the liability insurance needed to protect the town from the parental lawsuits.  Maybe.  I can't relate to that because when I grew up in that town all we cared about was who was going to be coming back from Europe and/or Asia, not too much about who fell off the swings at the playround yesterday. Now you know how old I am.
Notice that the little boy above is just sitting there.  We can't really tell whether or not he is dejected because the swing is not flying for him like it does for the older boys.  He seems to look forlorn, and I don't blame him.  That happened to me a lot.  Learning how to keep the swing flying after getting an initial push was a rather long and trying process for me.  (Retart!)  After I was able to keep it flying, it took me about three or four semesters at the playround MIT lab before success at starting from a stop became mine.  Along the way I had built a great reputation as the fat little kid who couldn't even fly a swing.  Man, I tell you, I was stupid...no, really stupid.

Now, I wasn't a girl, but I can tell you that I looked like this a lot in one of the worst Summers of my life.  How many mornings I would leave the house early and walk the 1/3 of a mile or so to the playground where I would be alone and I would grunt, and cry, and scream, throw sand, anything but be smart enough to get that sadistic machine to do for me what it did for every other creature on the planet.  That was the Summer when the older boys refused to give me the initial push.  Even friend "Red" J... (he's no longer around) told me to learn on my own.  Now that really raised the hackles of the back of my neck.  It was so bad, it weakened me and went home crying.
In case you're wondering: No, there is no happy ending to this story.  It took me at least three more weeks of  frustrating leg flailing before I discovered the full body, fulcrum-based harmony that was necessary to get the inertia to break and take to the air.  I never did get much accomplished that Summer, but at least I did have the body memory that I needed to have great fun the following year.  I haven't forgotten it, but I sure don't waste any time thinking about it because it reminds of just how stupid I can be.  That's why it took 5 years before telling the story here.

CHRISTIANITY IS LOVE; ISLAM MEANS PEACE; JUDAISM IS LOVING LAW

These days it is difficult to not think about the relationship that humans have with one another as defined by the religious faith to which they identify.  I do not profess to be an expert about what it is that I am about to opine, but opining is what this space does best.  I therefore allow myself the liberty of making a few remarks about the strengths and foibles of human beings when it comes to the religion with which they identify and the factual conduct that they display in their every day lives.  I am certain that you will be able to identify with some of the following remarks. 
Christians and Jews are commanded by the Holy Bible to love one another.  We Christians and Jews alike all know that.  We also all know that to follow that command is not easy.  After all, there are many different expressions of Christianity as we all know. At last count there were some 3,000+ "denominations" of Christians around the world. I, for one, can confess openly that it is not easy for me to love the adherents to some of these denominatioins just as there are many of them who can't stand the sight of me or any other Catholic.  So, yeah, we have some work to do there.   
I have come to know that there are similar feelings among some of the different expressions of Judaism as well. Oh well, I guess that even God can't win 'em all!
We all know that there are divisions in the Islamic world as well.  It would be nice if we Christians and Jews could present the Muslims with a united front and be sure that we were better than they, but we can't.  Just as they cannot present the Christians and Jews with a united front and win the prize for being the religion of peace, even by pointing to the peaceful relations that they might want to present between their various factions.
Now, I can't speak knowingly about Yoga, but I do know that there are different expressions of Yoga spirituality too. I happen to have first hand experience of that.  What I have not been able to ascertain is whether or not the adherents of one expression and the other in Yoga harbor negative feelings about one another.  No, I am not interested in finding out. 
At this point, I'm almost willing to bet that there are negative feelings among Atheists as to their common reasons, or lack thereof, for unbelief.  Bad feelings about people of differing opinions seem to be the norm of the human condition.  
Heck, just think of the political goupings in the world and you'll see just what it is that we are made of.  

So, at this point my conclusion is this:  Don't quote me the Holy Koran and I won't quote you the Holy Bible.  You, Mr and Mrs Christian, don't quote me the Holy Bible and I won't quote the Holy Bible to you.  To you all, myself too, let us all show one another by our habitual conduct the behavior that expresses the lived experience of the words that we would have quoted to one another from one Holy Text or the other. 
If we do that regularly and without fail, we will have no reason to cry at one another's funeral, guaranteed.       

ANNIVERSARY - A FEW DAYS

365 THOUGHTS X 500 WORDS, ON AVERAGE = 329,000 and if I remember right, I think every single one of them has been "G" rated.  As I wrote that, I found myself wondering if anyone knows what that means these days.  You might want to let me know.
The last few months, quite a few,I might add, I wrote notes to mysef about thoughts that I would like to write about.  That's as far as it got.  I have been writing a lot, but not in this space.  That's too bad because this is the one space where I generally have the most fun.  So now you know that what I have been doing is somewhat less than fun.  But now that the calendar has come back to the starting point of this blog, I figured that I might as well revisit you for moment.  

Five years is not a great amount of time in the long run.  However, when I tell you that when I started doing this I was only 73.6 years old, that should tell you that 5 years is a long time.  That is one large number.  There are many who were reading this back then who are not reading it now.  Back then there were barely 60 people on the mailing list.  Now there are twice than many plus those who follow it on Google+.  In the space of time, I joined Facebook and after three months I shut it off because it was pestering the daylights out of me.  Google+ is much quieter.  I still get pestered by Zuckerman's Folly but it is easier to press "delete" than to spend time making "friends" that I have never met.  Go ahead, call me old fashioned.  

So, now that I have come back, I am going to have to try to keep in touch over the next few days because the real anniversary date is creeping up on me...November 25 if I am not mistaken.  Then I am going to be leaving for Bethlehem, the Real One and I just might have a chance to write you a word or two from that vicinity.  If the angels don't keep me up all night with their singing.

Take it easy, y'all and stay tuned.

KILL 'EM WITH HUMOR

They have the arms,
Screw them,
We have the Champagne!

The great war between secular Liberty, Equality and Fraternity and Theocracy (with my respectful tip of the Christian hat to my Jewish brethren).
The meaning of today's cover of the weekly satirical magazine published in Paris...The very one that was attacked by the Theocrats (so called) last January 7...goes very deep into the complex situation that is the prevailing environment in many parts of the world.
It is interesting to me and to the publisher of Charlie Hebdo:  The secular environment of freedom and mutual respect is seen as an insult to the Theocracy that is attached to the religious faith of a portion of the country's population.  The magazine is saying, "Do what you will and die in anger while I live my life out in joy and good humor.

That's my thought for the day.  You can tell that this event has really grabbed me.  Don't worry, I'll get over it.  Even if I don't, you still are expected to not cry at my funeral, even though Champagne, and its close and distant relatives, are no longer a part of my life.

Peace and joy to you all.

PARIS

It has been five decades, at least, since I was enjoying the seductive charms of the world's finest city.
Actually, it has been +/-55 years since I was there for the first time.  It was for Summer classes in French literature at the Institut Catholique de Paris.  It was a Summer when Algeria was terrorizing the city by placing Plastique bombs in the metro stations.  So, we walked the three kilometers (1.9 miles) to and from school. The streets were as hirsute as porcupines with the amount of military long arms on the streets and gathered at the entries to the underground transportation system.
I was young, apolitical and wide-eyed about being in Paris. It was a great month.  I had a student pass to the city.  Louvre, Comedie Francaise, Tour Eiffel, Versailles, etc.  I even had a student's discount ticket for the Metro.  I was able to put it to good use once the French gendarmerie got the situation under control and took the Metro back from the terrorists.  Actually I think I learned more from the streets than I did from the school during that month.
Once more after that month I was in Parish for about two days.  It was barely all I could afford, so I was glad to get out of there.
I have been to France a number of times since then, but never again to Paris...Physically.  I never go to France without dreaming of my favorite big city in the world.  (N.B. San Diego, California is my favorite, but compared to Tokyo, New York, Rome, Jerusalem, Manila, Los Angeles and Chicago, San Diego is not a big city.)  By the way, if your city does not appear on this list it is simply because I have not been there, ever, for more than an airport "pit stop."  Sorry, Madrid :-(  You too, Amsterdam.  London?  I admit, I have avoided it on purpose.
So, now I have been re-living my first month in Paris.  It has been a hard year for me especially since this is the second attack on Paris within a year.  It comes to my mind that in some ways Parisians bring it upon themselves with their "in-your-face" arrogance.  So, have you ever been to New York?  Have you ever started to roll 2 seconds beyond the change of the light without hearing a horn?  Have you ever needed directions on the street?  The terrorists of 9/11 didn't dare do their thing on the street level in New York.  No siree! They opted to stay out of the way and do it from the air.
BUT, I've got news for them...messing with the French in Paris is a real bad choice.  Twice in the same year!  The result is going to be the 21st century version of the Guillotine...heads are going to roll...lots of them...The French carry a centuries old, festering disgust for the grade of people who are responsible for these attacks.  This is not over.  ISIS has just embraced an armful of fury...trust me on this one.  It is a fury born of a nine centuries' old gestation.  The baby is not going to be named
"Cal I. Phate."

Il y a déjà cinq décennies, au moins, depuis que j’ai eu le grand plaisir d’apprécier les charmes séducteurs de la plus belle ville du monde.

En fait, il y a +/- 55 années depuis la première fois que j’ai mis pied-à-terre à Paris.  Ce fut pour des classes d'été en littérature française à l'Institut Catholique de Paris. Ce fut un été quand l’Algérie terrorisait la ville en plaçant des bombes de Plastique dans les stations du métro. Donc, nous marchions les trois kilomètres entre notre domicile et l'école. Les rues étaient aussi hirsutes que les porcs épics avec la quantité de longues armes militaires dans les rues et devant les entrées du système de transport souterrain.

J’étais  jeune, apolitique avec les yeux écarquillés d'être à Paris. C’était un mois merveilleux.  Je disposais un laissez-passer d'étudiant à la ville. Le Louvre, la Comédie-Française, la Tour Eiffel, Versailles, etc., J’avais même acheté  le ticket de réduction pour étudiant pour le métro. Je me suis trouvé en mesure de le mettre à profit une fois que la gendarmerie française prit la situation sous contrôle et libéra le métro des menaces des terroristes. En fait, je pense que j’appris plus dans les rues qu’à l'école au cours de ce mois.

Une fois de plus après ce premier séjour, je me suis trouvé à Paris une deuxième fois pendant environ deux jours. Il était à peine tout ce que je pouvais me permettre ($), donc j’étais content de sortir de là.

Je suis allé en France un certain nombre de fois depuis, mais jamais à Paris ... Physiquement.  Je ne vais jamais en France sans rêver de ma grande ville préférée du monde. (NB San Diego, en Californie, est ma préférée absolue, mais par rapport à Tokyo, New York, Rome, Jérusalem, Manille, Los Angeles et Chicago, San Diego n’est pas une grande ville.) Par ailleurs, si votre ville ne figure pas sur la liste, c’est tout simplement parce que je n'y suis pas allé, jamais, pour rien de plus qu’un arrêt au stand à l’aéroport.  Désolé, Madrid :-( et toi aussi, Amsterdam.  Londres ?  J’admets que je l’évite sciemment.

Donc, maintenant, je revis mon premier mois à Paris. Cette une année se montre difficile pour moi d'autant plus que c’est la deuxième attaque sur Paris dans un an. Il me vient à l'esprit que, à certains égards les Parisiens appellent ces actions sur eux-mêmes grâce à leur air de supériorité.  Alors, avez-vous déjà visité New York? Avez-vous déjà mis un délai d’au-delà de 2 secondes avant de rouler au changement du feu sans entendre un klaxon? Avez-vous déjà eu besoin de directions pour votre promenade? Les terroristes du 9/11 n'ont pas osé faire leurs dégâts au niveau de la rue à New York. Non Messieurs! Ils ont choisi de rester en dehors de la voie et de le faire à partir de l'air.

MAIS, j’ai des nouvelles pour eux ... tordre le français à Paris est un vrai mauvais choix. Deux fois dans la même année! Le résultat va être la version de la guillotine du 21e siècle... des têtes vont rouler ... plusieurs ... Les Français portent depuis plusieurs siècles, un purulent dégoût de la catégorie des gens qui sont responsables pour ces attaques. Cela n’en veut pas plus. ISIS vient de cueillir une brassée de fureur ... croyez-moi sur ce coup. Elle est née d'une gestation de neuf siècles de fureur. Le bébé ne va pas être nommé "Kali Phat."