Friday Five: As dad used to say

Songbird's assignment this week is to "Name five things you used to hear your mother or father (or even a grandparent) say, especially things you might be surprised to hear coming out of your own mouth." What immediately comes to mind are tones of voice, or world views. With that in mind, here's my list:

1. Direct quote from Padre: "It's like my dad always used to say – 'If it doesn't work the first time, get a bigger hammer'."
2. I remember mom as having a problem with her temper and being insecure. I recognize that I have similar problems.
3. Very rarely, I'll hear a hint of mom's vocal tone when I say something — especially something judgmental.
4. Now and again, when I'm singing, I'll hear an echo of Padre's voice in my own. I consider this a great gift.
5. Padre was a man of reason. He could become frustrated with those who did not act in a reasonable manner. More so with political figures than with his sons. I also tend to "live in my head", and struggle with accepting reality as it is rather than wanting reality to match my concept of "reason".

Cat Friday

Writer's Block

It's been a slow week for postings at "LDW", as my new cyber-friend, Will Smama, has posted out. I'm not even sure the cute thing about Kermit (immediately below) counts as an entry.

No doubt I would have counted it as an entry when I was trying to reach 1800 by my third anniversary.

Dr. Omed once told me a story about F. Scott Fitzgerald. It seems that he was having writer's block. His editor suggested that he write about why he couldn't write. One of his better short stories was the result — I believe it was titled "The Big Break Up" or something seriously, and was a fictionalized account of Zelda's emotional breakdown.

I've been feeling physically low the past two weeks. I'm sleepy an hour earlier than normal. I find it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. So, that's one possibility — and probably the most likely.

This begs the question of why I've been feeling physically low. The cause could be physical or psychological, right? I'd want to sleep more than normal if I were depressed, right?

The thing is, aside from the funky sleep cycle, I don't feel depressed. Sure, my job is a drag. And sometimes I feel lonely for romance. But that's been on-going for a while, and I regularly remind myself that it's very likely a temporary situation.

Maybe it's physical. Oklahoma weather has been pretty wild the past two weeks. A week ago I was able to post pictures of March snow. Today, the sky is filled with threatening dark clouds, and severe thunderstorms are predicted for this afternoon. There have been times I have seemed sensitive to barometric pressure — although I'll admit I have not scientifically tracked the phenomenon.

Plus, it's spring, which means an increase in certain pollens. I seem to be allergic to something that blooms around this time of year, so that is also a likely suspect.

There's one more detail that leads me to suspect a physical cause for these doldrums, a symptom which occurred just this morning.

Vertigo.

Right after I used the rest room, things seemed to be spinning. I proceeded with my daily routine — start water boiling for tea, turn on tap for shower (it takes a moment for the water to warm), pull covers up on the bed. When I got into the shower, the spinning sensation got even worse, especially when I lowered my head to rinse my hair.

By the time I was done with my shower, the spinning was making me nauseous. I set a record for drying myself off and rushed back to bed. The spinning continued even while I was on my back.

Then, I remembered my bad-old drinking days. Occasionally, my hangovers would include vertigo. My memory was the vertigo would stop if I "lay in the direction of the spin" (to paraphrase driver safety). In other words, if the spin seemed to be clockwise, I lay on my right; if counter-clockwise, I lay on my left.

The spinning this morning seemed to be clockwise, so I lay on my right side. And sure enough, the spinning stopped. I had understandably panicked in the shower, so I consciously slowed down my breathing, in case blood pressure was an issue.

I'm still aware of a slight spinning sensation even as I type this, but it had decreased enough that I felt safe to drive to work.

Once I got to work, I visited with a co-worker who has suffered from chronic vertigo (doctors believe hers is connected with an issue in the middle ear). She suggested my vertigo may have been caused by low blood pressure, or by congestion.

I've just recently been taking an antihystamine to prevent allergy symptoms, so would substantiate the "congestion" hypothesis.

Thanks for listening as I worked all this out. And — whaddya know — the technique of writing about why I can't write works!

Which Muppet Am I?

You Are Kermit

Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know. You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems. Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green. Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!

The Muppet Personality Test

Cat Friday

Happy Blogiversary

Three years ago today, I posted my first entry on this blog. I had been sending occasional essays to a select group of friends and acquaintances for some time prior to March '03, and began to think something like a blog would be more efficient. Plus, it had the potential of reaching a wider audience.

As I've mentioned before, the title of this blog was inspired by the Talking Heads song, "Life During Wartime", from their album Fear of Music. I probably free-associated to that song title because the United States had officially invaded Iraq a few days earlier, and I was dating Elsie.

The subtitle of this blog, "Chevaux de Bataille and Random Quotidian Thoughts," was inspired in two ways. "Chevaux de bataille" had been a featured word in the Word-a-day e-mail list; it roughly translates as "hobby horse". Since I was primarily ranting against the B*sh administration and its policies at the time, it seemed appropriate to acknowledge I was riding a particlar hobby horse.

But I was also, in one way or another, observing my everyday life, with occasional reports or photographs shared from things Elsie and I had done together. This was a record of ordinary dailyness, of the "quotidian".

Since then, I have focused on primarily three "hobby horses" — religion, politics, and poetry (not nesessarily in that order).

This past year, I joined the RevGalBlogPals webring, and have noticed a marked increase in my hit-rate.

In preparation for this anniversary, I have been reviewing my entries for the past year. Surprisingly, I still like much of what I wrote.

Those of you with memories that stretch back at least a month may recall that I set myself the goal of posting entry number 1500 today. Since this is entry 1480, I have fallen short of that goal.

I predicatably got a case of writer's block almost as soon as I set myself that goal. And though I threatened to "pad" with more photographs or with recycled journal material, I couldn't bring myself to do it. The closest I came to padding was with "The Story of the Lost Son," which I had originally written in June 1980; and the five-part poem I posted last Friday (I posted each part as a separate entry).

I am slightly disappointed that I fell ~20 entries short of my goal. Yet, I am glad I tried.

Post No. 1479

The snow is spread upon the ground –
what must the roses think?
The sky is a silvered photo
and the wheat still needs a drink.

It seems modern life is defined by a series of squares. Computer screens are rounded squares. TV screens are squares. Many of us work in cubicles, defined by file cabinets and shelves and other detritus.

With some notable exceptions (the vaulted arch, the geodesic dome), our living spaces are defined by squares, rectangles, and straight lines.

Movie screens may be modeled on the Golden Rectangle, which I suspect is inspired by the average field of vision. But doesn't it seem as though our field of vision should be round? Our eyes are round, our eye sockets are (roughly) oval — as are our heads.

The human body has more circles and curves than straight lines. The natural world is full of curves. Is there a tree that produces a branch that is perfectly straight, whose sky-ward progress would satisfy a plumb-line?

What sort of dissonance does it create when we force ourselves into these squares? We know the consequences of forcing a square peg into a round hole, but what happens with the reverse?

Pretty Spring Morning

Facing east:

Facing west:

Post #1478

Idée d'jour

A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.
— William James
Post #1477

Current Events

Apparantly, the "liberal blogosphere" is still rumbling about Sen. Feingold's attempt to censure the president for his illegal NSA snooping program. As a nominal member of that tribe, I feel a certain responsibility to weigh in — but doesn't that issue seem so last week?

First off, I suspect even Sen. Feingold recognized how quixotic his motion was. Granted, an increasing number of Republicans are trying to distance themselves from the president; but none are going to go on the record as censuring the de facto leader of their party. And since Republicans are still in the majority, there's no way a censure measure could have passed.

With this bit of political theater, Sen. Feingold has positioned himself as being in the brave, and liberal, wing of the Democratic party. Whether his bravery will translate into votes remains to be seen.

As for the snooping, there's no question in my mind that it was illegal. Further, given the nature of the FISA statute, I wonder why the administration felt it was necessary. The existing FISA statute makes it possible to wire-tap someone for 48 hours without a warrant.

In other words, NSA could start wiretapping my phone right now, sans warrant, and wait 48 hours to obtain a warrant. Additionally, the FISA court has never yet denied one of these post-facto warrants.

Part of the argument is the administration couldn't afford to wait to wire-tap various folk. But FISA doesn't make them wait. The government can wiretap anyone at anytime and ask for forgiveness 48 hours after the fact.

This snooping is just the latest example of Presidential over-reaching in the B*sh administration. So far as the Prez is concerned, if he says so, it must be true. If he says he has the power to do something, he must have that power.

The folks at Talking Points Cafe have been debating whether B*sh is the worst president ever. I've recently been wondering whether Georgie Porgie is more like LBJ or Nixon.

It's become fairly commonplace to compare Iraq with VietNam. And, with GWB's faux-Texas accent, he could occasionally sound a little like LBJ. In fact, I heard a GWB soundbite on Saturday wherein his voice did sound eerily like Johnson's, and he was making an argument for staying in Iraq which sounded extremely similar to LBJ's reasoning for staying in VietNam.

While VietNam is significant black mark on Johnson's presidency, the Civil Rights Act almost outweighs it. His administration achieved other accomplishments which make it more effective — and less destructive overall — than the current regime.

The administration's love of secrecy is closer to Nixon's, though. Many refer to the current regime as an "imperial presidency", because B*sh seems to think his "political currency" gives him imperial powers. Many also perceived Nixon's term as "imperial", because of his love of pomp and his perception of the reach of executive power (and priviledge).

Perhaps B*sh is just the worst of Johnson and Nixon combined, with none of the redeeming qualities of either.

Post #1476

Idée d'jour

I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center.
— Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., writer (1922- )
Post #1475

Something Rare

I did something yesterday I haven't done in quite a while.
You cleaned the bathroom?
Well, yes I did that, but this is even more exciting.

I turned on the windshield wipers. Not on intermittent, either. It started as a fine mist, but by the time I left Borders, it was a full-fledged rain. I didn't have my umbrella or rain suit, and I didn't care. Blessed, blessed rain.

You've probably heard about the fires in Oklahoma - which inspired the five-part poem below. Not only has a significant amount of farm land been affected, the flames have touched urban areas as well. Just a few miles south and east of here, for example, a neighborhood was burned.

I don't know if it was enough rain. As I understand it, the primary crop around here is wheat - and the rain has come a bit too late to help the wheat. So, many farmers will be planting something else. I heard the report as I was rushing out the door, so I'm fuzzy on the details.

But "mysterious wet stuff" came from the sky all day long. So the ground in my tiny part of the world got a good soak.

The Peace Walk is later today, to mark the 3rd anniversary of the U.S. invasion of Iraq. I will be there, singing at least one song, and possibly playing mouth harp as Mary Reynolds sings other songs. I will walk, with many others, around the OKC Bombing Memorial. People will have ponchos and rain suits and umberellas. The wetness will make it feel a little cooler. But we will walk.

Nothing can stop as we walk toward peace and justice.

Not even the blessed, blessed rain.
Post # 1474

Shuffle Game

Via Beth
Instructions: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.

How does the world see you?
Ship in the Sky (Woody Guthrie)

Will I have a happy life?
My Warfare Will Soon Be Over (Ginny Hawker)

What do my friends really think of me?
The Briar & The Rose (Holly Cole)

Do people secretly lust after me?
Tea for the Tillerman (Cat Stevens)

How can I make myself happy?
Jesus Christ (Woody Guthrie)

What should I do with my life?
Biggest Thing Man Has Ever Done (Woody Guthrie)

Will I ever have children?
Accussi Va La Barca Al Mari

What is some good advice for me?
Etude in C Min (Chopin, performed by Horowitz)

How will I be remembered?
Brownsville Girl (Bob Dylan)

What is my signature dancing song?
Amazing Grace (as recorded by Dave Grisman & Jerry Garcia)

What do I think my current theme song is?
Child's Play (Edgar Meyer)

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
The Wanderer (U2 / Johnny Cash, from Zooropa)

What song will play at my funeral?
When I Grow Up (John McCutcheon)

What type of men/women do you like?
So Long, It's Been Good to Know Ya

What is my day going to be like?
Why, Oh Why (Woody Guthrie)

---

Pam and Alexandria sometimes check up on me through this page. I can't wait to hear what they think of these random responses!

Post #1473

The 23rd Psalm

(Arr. by Bobby McFerrin; ©1989 ProbNoblem Music/BMI)

The Lord is my Shepard, I have all I need,
She makes me lie down in green meadows,
Beside the still waters, She will lead.

She restores my soul, She rights my wrongs,
She leads me in a path of good things,
And fills my heart with songs.

Even though I walk, through a dark and dreary land,
There is nothing that can shake me,
She has said She won't forsake me,
I'm in her hand.

She sets a table before me, in the presence of my foes,
She anoints my head with oil,
And my cup overflows.

Surely, surely goodness and kindness will follow me,
All the days of my life,
And I will live in her house,
Forever, forever and ever.

Glory be to our Mother, and Daughter,
And to the Holy of Holies,
As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be,
World, without end. Amen

---

When you say "Psalm", this is the one most people will think of. You're likely to hear it in depictions of funerals in movies and on tv. Granted, you're much more likely to hear the King James' Version than this one. But you get the point.

The Psalms have survived a number of different translations, and variations. Some translations are better than others; some seem dead (e.g., the Revised English Bible). But the music of the psalms still shines through even the flattest translation.

McFerrin's version of the 23rd Psalm, included on his album Medicine Music, is very nice. Musically, he works with a relatively limited scale, similar to plain song or chant. The power of the song, musically, is in the harmonies realized within that limited scale.

Poetically, it's a nice variation of the original. Since McFerrin dedicates the piece to his mother, it makes since to use the feminine pronoun when referring to the divinity. Since I believe the Godhead either transcends gender, or incorporates both genders, I don't mind the use of the pronoun.

There is one striking difference between McFerrin's version and the original - his is in third person throughout. If you read the original, you'll notice the pronoun changes from "he" in the first three lines to "you" from the fourth line to the end.

There is another subtle shift in the poem, which we might miss. In the first four lines, the speaker is (by inference) a sheep. If the Lord is the speaker's shepherd, then the speaker is a metaphorical sheep. Then comes the fifth line "You annoint my head with oil". A sheep's head is not normally annointed with oil - this is an action performed for kings (e.g., David).

The dominant structure of the psalms is chiastic. That is, the first half of a line makes a statement, and the second half repeats it in a different way. It's as though you were shouting the line across a chasm, and the echo had a mind of its own. For example, the second line of Psalm 24: "For [the Lord] hath founded [the earth] upon the seas / and established it upon the floods." (KJV)

The "echoes" in the 23rd Psalm are more subtle than normal. For example, "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; / he leadeth me beside the still waters" is an echo of theme rather than of meaning.

I've begun to suspect that a similar chiasm exists within certain psalms as a whole. That the second half of a psalm is intended to comment on the first half. In this instance, verses 5 and 6 are a reflection, if you will, of verses 3 and 4 (with verse 1 being an introduction). Obviously, it's not an exact reflection. The juxtaposition of "king" and "sheep" forces the reader to compare and contrast the ideas. How might a king be like a sheep?

The psalm implies, through this juxtaposition, that even a king relies on God as a sheep depends for its survival on the shepherd. Even the king, who is narrating this psalm, accepts a position of vulnerability.

As Dylan sings, "Even the President of the United States must sometimes stand naked."
Post #1472

I.

Fire on the east
Houses melt like wax
Jackals circle

Post #1471

II.

Storms to the north
Cleanse the forgotten heart
Ravens sit in judgement

III.

Drought on the west
Astmatic air gasps
Vultures study philosophy

IV

And in the secret north
The blinded king speaks false
The castle door is hollow

V.

We draw our maps
on torn paper sacks
and forget mother dust

Friday Five: Spring Break

As suggested by Songbird.

The challenge is to list five places I have been to on spring break, or vacation. The problem is, I'm such a workaholic that I don't normally go on vacation unless it's goal-oriented. In other words, I'll take off a couple of days to attend a conference, or a week to attend a music festival, but I rarely take off "just because." Mental health days are far and few between.

Two childhood trips stand out, although the details are sketchy. Sometime after Padre remarried, the three of us went on a trip west. We visited Carlsbad Caverns, and the near-by desert. Both made an impression on me, especially the fact that my sweat evaporated before I could feel it form.

The second childhood trip was earlier, probably dating prior to my parents' divorce. Which means I was under six years old. My maternal grandmother and I rode the train to a farm owned by some friends of her. I primarily remember the smell of the livestock, and the appearance of the cotton.

The closest experience I had to one of those "Spring Break" movies was the summer I spent in Princeton, NJ. I lived in a two bedroom apartment with three other guys. The apartment was upstairs from a hoagie shop, right on Princeton's main street. I dated a high school senior for most of that time, until my drug use (alcohol and speed) became more than she cared to deal with.

I've visited Denver, Colorado, three times. The first was as part of a wedding party (groomsman), and was an over-night stay. I immediately fell in love with the architecture in that city. The next two times were 4-5 day stays, with the couple whose wedding I had attended. The wife served as my tour guide the second trip - we drove all over that quadrant of Colorado. The following trip I was my own tour guide, and had a great deal of fun exploring the back streets and 'burbs.

Of course, my annual trip to the music festival in Winfield, KS, each September. About once every other year or so, I make the treck to west Texas to visit Brother Dave. I've spent long weekends in Seattle, WA and Springfield, MO. Then there's the two trips I've made to Kansas City, MO; I got lost both times.

Songbird offers a bonus question of where I might like to travel in the future. It may seem too easy an answer on St Paddy's Day, but I've always wanted to visit Ireland.

Post #1466