Gazing practice

I finished my 'gazing' exercises for the day ..I’m still not very good at it ..it’s not like staring into space ..but, I am getting better. They’re actually pretty simple ..I move my head around while keeping my eyes focused on a picture in front of me. The goal is to reach a ‘zone’ where the picture freezes ..without trailing or blurring. In theory, I’m training my nervous system to build new pathways to keep my vision stable. It’s similar to a technique we use with children who can’t read ..except, instead of training their visual system, we train their auditory system (sound system). In theory, this is supposed to generate pathways for handling ‘phonemes’ ..that didn’t develop while they were growing up. I think I’m getting a better sense of what these kids go through in school ..because, even though I don’t stumble over words while I read .. I am afraid of stumbling and looking foolish when I walk.

Gazing ability

My physical therapist tells me there’s a new term out for what I’ve got when the room starts to spin ..‘gaze instability’. It means I’ve lost the reflex that keeps my vision stable while my head is moving Now, I know that, for the most part, when I move my head ..I want my eyes to look in the same general direction ..however, it happens with even the slightest motion ..like walking for instance ..my head moves up and down ..and so do things I pass on the street. I tell my therapist it reminds me of crazy ‘Dr. Monroe’. Who’s that ..she asks. A college professor who used to walk around campus wearing a video camera on her head ..like a pith helmet ..I explain. Everyone would laugh and say: ‘There goes crazy Monroe’ ..but there was a method to her madness ..you see, what the camera records is different than what the eye sees ..and, since a camera doesn’t have ‘shock absorbers’ ..it’s an awfully bumpy ride ..not smooth the way we ordinarily see things. “That’s a good way to describe it” my therapist tells me. It comes as kind of a surprise though; I always thought ‘gazing’ was one of my better qualities ..at least, that’s what my employers used to say ..along with both parents, all my teachers ..and quite a few relatives.

Ash Friday

The darkest part of the day is around noon ..the sky is a gloomy shade of black and orange ..the colors of Halloween .. heavy metal goth ..or doom ..there’s a fire in the mountains ..and an onshore flow from the ocean ..creating an eerie glow ..ashes fall like snow ..piling up on my shoulders ..and going up my nose ..I choke, spit, bitch and moan ..while Laura looks up ..she was in Mexico City during the earthquake of ’85 ..and says ashes also fell from the sky ..and I’m like ..from what, a volcano ? and she says no, from broken gas lines and burning people ..I cringe ..how ghastly that must have been ..yea, she says ..but not when you stop to consider how we’re always inhaling the molecules of our ancestors ..and I’m thinking ..how metaphysical.

The shower

I’m always in such a hurry ..a shower is something I rush through to get out of the door on time ..clean and without much consciousness. Not today. It was like trying to take a shower from a fire hydrant ..the force knocks me off my feet ...drowns out my screams ..and washes away everything in it’s path .. I open my eyes and I’m kneeling in Nepal ..watching the Ganges fall .. I open my eyes and I’m in Calcutta ..bathing in the river with millions of others ..back home I raise my hands up to the water falling from the indoor plumbing of my shower ..and give thanks. I crawl out on the cold tile of my bathroom floor ..and lift myself up to the sink ..fully awake and ready for whatever comes my way ..if I can just remember to slow down and take things consciously.

Another message from the zen fortune cookie factory.

Ordinary instant

I close my eyes ..and hear the sound of water splashing somewhere ..as well as the sound of someone yelling into a cellphone ..I mean, I don’t know for sure that it’s a cellphone ..but there’s an unmistakable quality to a cellphone conversation. Next, my brain puts the person on the cellphone into a shower (the splashing water) ..and, to make it more convincing ..puts the cellphone into a waterproof yellow case similar to my underwater camera. However, there's one thing it forgot ..the sounds of a real shower never reach the place where I’m sitting. I caught my brain in an outright fabrication. Now I feel the satisfaction of outwitting my own brain ..but I begin wondering how many other fabrications have slipped by me in the past ..and created a data base of misconceptions ..then I remember the reason why I started this journal in the first place ..to try and capture the ‘vagaries’ of ordinary thought. Somewhere I lost track ..the original purpose got obscured ..I took a wrong turn ..and followed the overriding concerns of egotistical thoughts ..which always seem to beat out my ordinary thoughts.

Fairie Glen

Out of darkness comes light ..

Jenny and Jade

A little fiendish photoshoppishness ..Jenny and Jade in Gnarly woods

Heidi and Steve

Into the light

Heidi (1961 ~ 2002)
Steve (1953 ~ 2006)

Grad school

People often ask me how I started out in the field of Psychology ..and wound up working in the computer industry. It’s been so long now that I hardly remember ..but I feel like I owe them a better explanation than: “It was easier getting a job in the computer industry.” There's more to the story. I was originally interested in Clinical Psychology and dreamed of becoming a ‘Rich Hollywood Psychologist’. But, my grades weren’t as stellar as they needed to be and my chances of getting into graduate school for clinical training were pretty slim. Then someone suggested that I get ‘research experience’ ..saying that it would improve my chances considerably. So, in September of 1977 ..I entered graduate school in the field of Experimental Psychology and began looking for a ‘killer topic’ for the master’s thesis. I knew I couldn’t just write a paper – it had to be a research project. This meant coming up with a theory and collecting data to support it. Furthermore, it had to be interesting enough to get published in a professional journal. I had no idea what I was going to do but I didn’t have much time. While preparing for a presentation I was giving at a seminar in learning theory, I ran across a study showing how reading scores dramatically improve once children start making ‘inferences’. For instance, when a child reads the sentence “The paratrooper jumped out of the door” it helps if they make the inference “The paratrooper jumped out of the plane”. We weren’t teaching children to make inferences and that was one of the reasons why Japanese students were outscoring American student in reading. That interested me so I made a copy of it for future reference. Later that year at a seminar in linguistics, I listened to one of the presenters describe how inference-making can have undesirable consequences. At the Watergate hearings for instance, when President Nixon said “No one told me John Mitchell was behind the break-in.” People came away with the impression he said, “I did not know John Mitchell was behind the break-in.” I thought, how ironic ..the same process that helps children learn to read can become a source of misunderstanding between adults. It was an intriguing theory but even more important – I had found a ‘killer topic’. After getting my thesis committee to approve, I began running tests measuring adult speech and reading comprehension. What I found is that people really are susceptible to misleading inferences. Over two-thirds of the time, they mistake the inferences they make for something they either heard or read before. After listening to a passage containing the sentence “The karate expert hit the cement block”, they swore what they heard was “The karate expert broke the cement block.” Relying on inferences can actually lower adult reading scores. I thought I was on to something. Inferences are stored in a manner that is indistinguishable from information conveyed by direct assertion. I found examples occurring in courtroom testimony and deceptive advertising. I presented my findings at a conference of the Western Psychological Association in Los Angeles where I managed to get my thesis published [link]. Then, someone approached me and said that my research would be useful in another field .. developing speech recognition systems for the computer. So in 1981, after the Reagan Administration began cutting funds for the kind of research I was doing, I completed the master’s degree and I went to work for the computer industry. I remember my colleagues telling me I was ‘selling-out’. I never lost interest in psychology and always thought I’d come back and complete a doctoral degree.

**Vintage photo of me after a day in the surf ..Laguna Beach 1977

Day eight

Karla arrives here right after school ..we go to IHOP then to the mall for tennis shoes. They don’t have my size so I get a pair of sandals instead ..they don’t have the one’s Karla likes ..so we go looking for a store that carries Adidas without the colored stripes. We find them at a Footlocker store ..but then she remembers that Laura told her not to get them until she sees her grades ..which means I can’t get them without undermining Laura’s authority ..so, we take Andy to the park instead. They wait there while I go to physical therapy ..where I put on a pair of goggles so they can track my eye movements while moving my head around ..to see if my eyes get spastic trying to compensate for problems with my inner ear ..(?) (sense of balance). They say I have problems with ‘gaze stabilization’ ..who’d of thought ..this means I can’t even gaze properly. I thought it was my speciality. Back home, I have a smoothie while Karla has broccoli, avocado and cheese with mayonnaise and soy sauce ..I feel light headed so I lay down for awhile ..later we watch Shrek 2 ..which makes me laugh ..and feel better .. so I make some pasta and stay up to watch Wimbledon highlights ..and Jay Leno. Tonight is Karla’s last night here ..tomorrow Laura arrives home after eight days in Mexico ..untangling immigration/adoption problems. I’ll miss Karla’s company ..she’s good natured and delightful to be with.

Day seven

Karla comes home right after school today ..thinking its Friday ..so, she plays with Andy ..cleans Fred’s cage (Aria’s pet rat) ..and I take her skateboarding on the strand. I unhook Andy and let him go running on the beach ..where he runs into Judy and Michael ..who love Andy because they once owned an Airedale too. On our way by the skateboard park, some boys howl at Karla and hide .. she is embarrassed ..she knows them from school and says that they are only doing it because they know it makes her mad. Afterwards, we have Pho and Dover Sole at Little Saigon ..I love the way they prepare the fish ..and I drink fresh coconut out of the shell ..which I haven’t done in a long time ..I don’t know why. I ask a couple of the waiters, who recently emigrated from Vietnam ..if they had problems with Hanoi about coming to the US. They say no ..they are foreign exchange students. I tell Karla that relations between Vietnam and the US must be better. She has no idea what I’m talking about ..or even why I asked the waiters anything. See, she says .. even they say there’s no problem ..and I start thinking: maybe I’m the one who’s out of touch. Later, Karla shows me her interior decorating job ..she corrected a problem with the lighting in the guest bedroom. Now people won’t have to grope in the dark to find a lamp switch. I tell her what an excellent job she did.

Day six

We Drive to Ventura to pick up some more stuff for Karla ..and attend a possible Fourth of July block party ..but there’s no one around ..so we grab the stuff and get out of town. I drive back to Santa Barbara and take a detour through the mountains ..which annoys Karla. Back home, she reads the lyrics while listening to another Grateful Dead CD (Workingman’s Dead ..my favorite). I think she has near perfect pitch ..not because she can follow the Dead ..but because she can match the sound of just about any of the hip-hop singer she hears ..as well as the sound of the blender and coffee grinder. She says she wants to learn the flute ..and play in the high school band. I tell her she’ll be the first hip-hop flute musician. This evening we have soup, broccoli and avocado ..with mayonnaise and soy sauce ..kind of like a California roll without the fish ..afterward, we watch the fireworks from my bedroom window ..even Andy gets up on his hind paws to see. I remind Karla to come home right after summer school on Friday ..so we can have lunch at IHOP ..then go shopping for tennis shoes.

Day five

Summer school and the Boys and Girls club ..Karla is making a pouch for her iPod ..and learning ‘relative clauses’. This evening she reads lyrics while listening to a Jerry Garcia CD called 'Shady Grove' ..which is made up of nineteenth century British and American folk tunes ..sung to guitar and mandolin ..each one tells a story ..some of which she finds funny. I switch to some early Grateful Dead ..and get out a book of lyrics (Box of Rain by Robert Hunter). It’s really not her preference in music ..I know she listens to some pretty classy hip-hop ..people like Chris Brown, Akon and Gwen Stephanie. To her, rock and roll sounds like a party full of loud and obnoxious drunks. That makes me laugh ..but I know what she means. Anyway, she reads along to a few Dead tunes .. says she likes ‘Tennessee Jed’ and ‘Ramblin Rose’ ..and tells me she can hear the similarity between Celtic music and Bluegrass ..and Bluegrass and Grateful Dead (Jerry Garcia started out playing bluegrass in a jug band) ..I feel proud ..we eat leftover chicken and salad for dinner.

Day four

Karla leaves for summer school at 8 am ..from there she goes to the Boys and Girls club until 5 pm ..meanwhile I play with Andy ..discuss the creek situation with Raul ..plan my day ..my week ..and my month (don’t know why, everything after this moment is a crapshoot anyway) ..I catch up on my ‘book-keeping’ ..which means paying bills that are either due ..or past-due ..I pick up Karla ..and we go to the post office ..tri-county produce ..trader joes ..and scolaris ..we stock up on sparkling apple cider ..avocados ..brie cheese ..crackers ..oreos ..ice cream ..cup of noodle soup (I hope Laura isn’t reading this) ..and carrots and broccoli (just in case she is) ..but couldn’t find any fresh papaya or mangoes ..we have baked chicken and one of my masterpiece salads for dinner.

Day three

I sleep late ..Karla has been up since 7 am watching cartoons ..we go for bagels and cream cheese on Milpas ..then skateboarding and walking on the strand with Andy. We swing by the skateboard park ..but Sean isn’t there ..he’s a surfer dude with long blond hair who sits next to Karla in one of her classes ..there is plenty of sunshine though ..and crowds everywhere ..big pelican convention going on in the tide pools ..and tourists galore ..there’s a van in the parking lot drawing a lot of attention ..it’s plastered, inside and out, with every imaginable icon of American culture ..from the fifties to the present ..in pictures ..figurines ..dolls ..and various assundry paraphernalia ..real kitsch. A picture of Timothy Leary immediately pops out at me ..Karla recognizes Sponge Bob .. Justin Timberlake ..John Lennon ..the cast of Star Wars ..Taz ..and Barbie ..or is that Marylyn Monroe ..Karla says it’s Madonna ..we sit and vegetate at the end of the pier for a while ..then go to Nature Cafe for avocado sandwiches and smoothies ..and another humongous So Cal day slips away.

Day two

Today Karla and I went to Ventura to pick up Karla’s clothes ..Laura was in such a hurry to leave that they forgot those ..I didn’t mind ..I chatted with a Gary, an attorney friend, for nearly two hours ..mostly about the reasons why marijuana laws are still on the books ..turns out Uncle John had it absolutely right (you can see his comments here ~> Drug warp) ..Gary also tells me to ‘follow the money’ ..it goes to law enforcement ..prisons ..juvie ..prosecutors .. judges ..narcotics officers ..and keeps the whole ball rolling. He tells me about a client of his, who is allowed to possess a small amount of marijuana for medical reasons ..but tried to trade some of it, to an undercover officer, for equipment to start a hydroponic garden ..and grow like about a thousand plants. Gary tells me the legal limit is closer to 50 plants. Then I’m like, oh shit ..I forgot about Karla ..who is lying on the sofa right behind me ..quietly watching the Disney channel on TV. Driving back, she tells me how funny it was watching the way I pace when I talk ..I try to tell her that I didn’t want to sit down because then we would have been there forever ..but I realize, for her ..we were there forever. We stop at IHOP for lunch. Back at the house, she rides her bike while taking Andy for a walk. I have no memory of what we had for dinner that night.

Day one

Karla arrived today ..she is staying with me for a week while Laura travels to Mexico to sort out some adoption/immigration problems. Karla is in summer school studying English at Santa Barbara High. Today’s homework assignment is ‘independent clauses and coordinating conjunctions’ ..which, anyone who reads my writing knows ..I tend to avoid in favor of run-on sentences with little coordination. However, I try to be good so Karla doesn’t pick up any of my bad habits ..although, I don’t understand why they’re using ‘for’ instead of ‘because’ ..I mean, who ever says “She can’t come out ‘for’ she is sleeping” ..? but then again, I’m biased toward writing the way people speak instead of the other way around ..and since Karla is learning how to speak English for the first time ..I’d rather dey be teachin’er da’spokin’ English ..but Karla just looks at me patiently and says ..that’s high point level 5 ..and I look back at her and go ..are you talking about a star wars episode ..? After she has endured a few more confusing exchanges like that ..we go to Little Saigon for pho and seafood ..I’m talking about a SB restaurant ..not the OC community ..a distinction which is also lost on Karla, who is only 13 years old ..from Monterrey Mexico ..and I look at her mercifully .. ‘for’ the poor soul is facing a week-long deluge of inconsequential matter ..made up by a generation that might as well have existed a thousand years ago.

This evening we watched 'Kill Bill 1' ..and saw lots 'n lots'a blood.

Just breathing

Needless to say,
 I’m odds and ends
Stumbling away,
Slowly learning
that Life is OK 

 I practice breathing exercises, not because I’m a follower of ‘new age’ fashion but because it works for me. It improves my resolution in addition to my well being. I breathe in deeply ..hold my breath for several seconds ..and breathe out slowly. Now, I realize that everyone breathes ..but I try to do it ‘mindfully’, which is simply to say ..I pay attention to it. Frequently, my mind wanders ..and I’m thinking about what Laura said the day before ..or wondering if the roof is going to collapse tomorrow ..and I forget to breathe out ..until I’m gasping for air ..which tells me I’m not paying enough attention ..which makes my mind wander again .. thinking about how undisciplined I am and so on. So, I’ve learned to trick myself by making ’wandering mind’ part of my practice ..and watching where it goes. It frequently gets wrapped up in what other people are thinking about me ..or my music ..my posture ..my flaws ..and, not only now ..but what they thought of about me yesterday as well ..in addition to what they might think about me tomorrow ..which is an endless cycle because I never really know what people are thinking. I rarely get it right even when they’re in the same room. But I keep on guessing ..coming up with things like: ‘My neighbor Don doesn’t believe I’m doing my part to keep the creek clean’ ..or ‘My musician friend Dez thinks my CD collection is shallow’ ..and, of course: ‘My Dad doesn’t approve of anything I do’. Which leads me to believe that my brain is kind of like a simulation device that creates ‘instances’ of people ..gives them traits and qualities like ‘Don-ness’ or ‘Dez-ness’ ..presents them with hypothetical situations ..and sees how they are going to react. But, what’s even more important ..it tries to determine what they are going to think of me personally. Which tells me that my mind is constantly working to keep my image from falling apart.

Solstice festival

I’m having smoothie and coffee for breakfast ..loud music is coming through my window ..I look out and see Anastasia hosing her deck ..I howl at the daylight ..and her dog howls back. Now I’m walking mindfully along Anapamu street ..reaching upper State street at about the place where the parade goes around the bend to Alameda park. There’s a sea of humanity. I hear the sound of drums ahead ..I enter the park from Sola street ..pass by the vendor tents ..there's Rastafarian ..Indian tapestry halter tops ..and tons of jewelry shops. I get a solstice button that looks like an exploding supernova ..which is the theme of this year’s event ..which is subject to every variation of interpretation ..for me ‘everyone’s a star’ works best. Now I’m sitting in the square by the gazebo ..eating watermelon someone handed me for free. Eventually I hook up with Carol and Skylar ..they’re eating nachos and drinking iced tea. Now I’m dancing in the drum circle ..feeling self-conscious ..but there’s no reason ..just revelry. I begin to relax ..my legs loosen ..my hips unwind ..and I’m moving in rhythm. Everyone is smiling ..my jaw slackens ..and I’m grinning like a fool. There’s belly dancers ..Polynesian dancers ..Sufis ..twirling dervishes ..and gypsies. I’m not like any of these though ..more like a refuge from the sixties. I lean over and shout that twenty years of Grateful Dead concerts are paying off. Now the sound of a flute weaves in and out ..and I hear laughter ..colors swirl around me like taffy ..I move fast ..I move slow..I take a water break ..Injun Joe offers me some grass ..I pass it along ..someone hands me a tambourine ..I hand it to someone else ..don’t want any encumbrances ..not another thing to make me feel self-conscious again. I’m swaying through the afternoon this way ..endorphins kicking in and feeling no pain ..I break for dinner ..BBQ tri tip ..elote (corn on the cob) and lemonade ..I’m walking more fluidly now ..feeling grounded but untethered (?) Now I’m resting under the Norton tree and chatting with a girl named Noella ..who she says she gets the strangest comments from the guys leaving the beer tent ..things like ‘take me to your kasbah’ ..or ‘lets f**k’. Her feet are bare and so is her midriff ..but it's no excuse for their behaviour. She says something about her friend from Jamaica that I didn't quite get ..so I just say ja mon ..and tell her I’ve never been there ..I say goodbye to everyone and walk home after sunset.

Renewal

Listening to Ryan Adams on CD ..swallowing ginseng pills and washing them down with black coffee ..the news from Iraq says the cycle of destruction and revenge continues ..leaving no room for a cycle of stability and healing ..I shut my eyes ..turn the page ..open my eyes and realize today is the last day of spring .. the last day to do spring cleaning ..panic sets in ..calls go out ..help arrives ..and another kind of cycle of destruction and renewal begins inside. The contents of my house follow a predictable course ..almost like an invisible conveyor belt. New stuff arrives ..old stuff goes into the garage (renewal) ..and the stuff that’s been floating around the garage too long heads out to goodwill ..or into the garbage (destruction). Inside this cycle ..there are smaller cycles ..like wheels within a wheel. Laundry, for instance ..it has regular, delicate and damn near worn out ..I like to watch the water dissolve yesterday’s dirt ..and vanish down the drain. I don’t know why ..I guess it gives me some kind of vicarious sense of renewal.

School's out

Friday was the last day of school for my niece Karla ..7th grade ..she came by afterward all excited ..not so much about the last day of school ..but about registering for summer school ..(?) ..go figure ..I suspect it’s because the classes she wants to take are being held at the high school ..which is big time for her, I’m sure. Anyway, she ran off to register (I live nearby) ..and returned half an hour later in a major bummer ..someone at the office told her that they don’t accept 7th graders. I was surprised because it was her junior high Principal that recommended she go there ..even filled out the application for her. So, we tried calling both the junior high, and high school to understand this disconnect ..but everyone was at graduation ceremonies. So, a short time later, we go down to see the junior high Principal ..but the office was already closed for the weekend. I told Karla to stay cool, we’ll be there first thing Monday morning ..I said: “If your Principal told you to register ..you will be registered.”

That afternoon, Karla, Andy and I went to the shore where Karla rode her skateboard and saw some of her friends at the skateboard park ..Andy got in a fight ..[that left puncture wounds we had to treat later] ..I chatted with some out-of-towners who were here to attend one graduation or another [there are actually nine colleges in town] ..someone told me they couldn’t believe all the police they saw handing out tickets for things like skateboarding, rollerblading and leash law violations ..sounded strange ..but I put Andy’s leash back on anyway. Police around here usually aren’t that petty. I know this is graduation time and everything ..but, c’mon, skateboarding on the strand ..(?) I asked the first cop I saw and he explained that they only ticket people who are blatantly drunk and causing a disturbance ..but then added, please don’t ask me if you can take your dog off his leash ..‘cuz then I’ll have to say no (wink, wink) ..now that’s more like the way I’m used to seeing things done around here.

Sunday afternoon Karla arrived at the house with her belongings so we could be at the Principal’s office first thing the next day. That evening I opened the gates to the county bowl (an outdoor theater) so she could go skateboarding. That night we watched ‘Shrek’ on DVD.

Monday morning we arrived at the junior high Principal’s office at 7 am ..only to find a sign that said the office will be closed until 10 am ..we went back home where Karla slept and I played ball with Andy ..at 10 am we went back and found a Counselor who told us to see ‘Marcie’ at the high school ..he even called ahead ..shouldn’t be a problem, he said. When we got there, the girl behind the desk told us that Marcie was in a meeting and wouldn’t be out until noon ..but there was really no reason to come back because the high school doesn’t allow 7th graders. We returned at noon anyway ..and I asked to see Marcie again. The girl behind the desk asked if we had an appointment ..I said no, but indicated I would like to make one ..to which she replied: “Sorry, no appointments during summertime” “Isn’t that a catch 22 ” I asked “Huh ..?” she replied. Never mind, we’ll just sit down over here and wait. Go ahead, she said ..but I don’t think you’ll catch her ..it’s lunchtime you know. I asked if Marcie was in her office now. “Mmm, I don’t know ..why don’t you just have a seat”. No problem ..this is also kinda’ the way I’m used to seeing things done around here. Two minutes later Marcie comes out ..she knows exactly what we’re here for and says: “Karla, you’re enrolled ..classes begin Wednesday morning at 8 am in room 101” ..Karla was a happy camper ..which made me feel glad.

Shock wave

I try to write, but my mind is so cloudy ..I can hardly think. When I mention this to Dr Jones, he just nods and says it sounds like the ‘haze of aftermath’. The aftermath of what ..I ask. Traumatic events ..they release a shock wave so intense that your brain blocks pathways to protect you from impact ..all you experience is the haze of aftermath. Huh ..? You’ve heard of post traumatic stress, right ? ..happens to soldiers in battle ..helps them survive the horrors of war ..afterward, they have to deal with it or the haze persists ..until something gives. I tell him I’ve never been in a war, but I’ve had my share of lesser traumas ..like job loss ..business failure ..divorce ..bad tennis matches. Same thing ..he says. There is no standard ..everyone determines the magnitude of adversity for themselves. A short time later I see a partial clearing ..I walk into an open space .. a shock wave hits and leaves a precipice in its place ..I’m falling and clutching at whatever I can reach ..my wife ..my friends ..the Zen master. But my wife’s gone ..my friends have moved on and the Zen center relocated. I’m sitting on a sandy beach stunned and confused ..the phantom memories that broke through ..and commandeered my psyche ..have passed ..removing the haze of aftermath.

Echo

According to Greek mythology, whenever we hear an echo ..it is the spirit of a woodland nymph named Echo calling back to us. When Echo was alive, the Greek goddess Hera cast a spell on her for committing the crime of talking too much. Her punishment ..she could no longer speak for herself ..instead, she could only repeat the last two words that someone else said. I had not heard this story before ..not until the other day when my niece Karla read it aloud for me. I thought it demonstrated the value of being a good listener ..so, I told Karla it was a good story and that I liked it very much. Today her mother tells me that she is having trouble convincing Karla where echoes really come from. Sound waves bouncing back. It has become like a major battle. Apparently Karla is having difficulty believing the real reason for echoes because she got the story version, first, out of a ‘text book’. I had no idea that I had reinforced this misconception. The story goes on to describe the character Narcissus ..where we get the term narcissism ..because he could only hear his own words repeated back to him by Echo. I’m just afraid that someday we are going to have to explain to Karla the psychiatric term ‘narcissistic personality’ by referring to the same myth that we are trying to explode today.

Note: Lisa Marie Nowak, the astronaut who drove cross country to whack her love rival last February, was diagnosed with a ‘narcissistic personality disorder’. My opinion about that can be found here ~~>Personality disorder

Alien web site

I wake up feeling like I hadn't slept ..I go downstairs and drink lots of coffee while surfing the Internet. Web pages go streaking by like a NASCAR race ..disappearing down avenues of cyber space ~ click ~ a pipeline of light takes me to a satellite connection ~ click ~ ultra violet rays hurl me into the infinite ether ~ click ~ fractal patterns go spinning by ..unraveling out of sight ~ click ~ a metallic orb looms ahead ..flashing letters that form the words: cosmic connection click here ~ click~ a portal door blows wide open revealing a brilliantly colored, luminescent universe ..I pass through going ..how did I get here? On the other side an alien's face appears ..Its words bypass my auditory system and go directly into my center for word recognition: "zzzipperishhh .. gibberishhh ..licorisshh ..carnivorishh ..ahhh haaa, English ..! Greetings Earthling ..how may I be of assistance ?”

Shit expert

When I take my dog Andy for a hike, I’m often thinking about the role he plays in nature ..and I’m usually surprised to find something new. For instance, I already knew that his nature is to hunt small game ..or ‘critters’ ..but, I recently discovered that he has another job ..shit expert. The first sign that there may be critters in the area are their droppings. Andy keeps his nose to the ground so he can detect these. When he finds some, he signals me by sticking his tail out and bending one of his front legs (I still haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to do with this information). What I do find remarkable however is that he doesn’t stop and signal me with just any piece of shit that he finds. Nope. First, it’s gotta be fresh ..and when I say fresh, I mean less than a 15 minutes old. Second, he passes over any droppings left by dogs ..coyotes ..or humans. He only signals me when the droppings were left by a critter ..like a possum, raccoon or rabbit. Today’s offering looked way too big for a raccoon ..but too small for a deer. I told him it might be a bobcat ..and we got the hell outta there. Sure enough, the first person I run into tells me that there’s been a bobcat sighting in the area. It also tells me something about Andy ..his sense of smell has been ‘genetically tuned’ to select only the scent of shit left by the critters he was bred to hunt ..and only if it’s sufficiently ‘ripe’. No one had to teach him that ..it is not an acquired skill .. it’s a gift he was born with.