the nobility
of misfortune is that it
teaches us the truth

space age usa

this little collection of images is from our newly acquired matchbook collection. they feature illustrations of the apollo 11 mission into space and lunar landing. i'm not really sure of their origin. although probably not nasa approved, they were most likely produced in the afterglow of the triumphant moon landing. as i looked around a little today i saw quite a bit of other independently produced apollo 11 memorabilia commemorating this mission.


i was just a baby when the world first thrilled to this event, but it has always produced a bit of awe when i think of all the incredible effort that went into the preparation and lead up to that day in july of '69. in my minds eye i see time standing still briefly here on planet earth, as the whole world holds its breath and stares into the night sky at that great beautiful orb and wonders. and stops to look at grainy black and white images through television shop windows. and in those moments tens of millions of the dreams of children are launched as well.

if you'd like to see more images from this collection, there's a nice little lot for auction on ebay here. bon voyage space travelers.

the wait continues
as time stands still inside this
bright and empty room

the view from here

as i move about my daily activities, and they sometimes seem mundane, i am reminded that all of us look differently. i do not mean as in our appearances, but in the ways we all look differently as we move through this life. sometimes we forget and become frustrated with one another because others do not see things the same way we see them. our lives are a collection of recorded images, sounds, smells, emotions, feelings and taste and so much of what moves us is incomprehensible. memories dart around us like butterflies that alight and pause for brief moments and then are gone...

last season's comments
as the glow of memory
fades into distance

happy boxing day!

see the baby king
come now to reconcile us
with peace and mercy

sounds of silence

so here we are again, perched on another Christmas eve's eve. the baby's in the manger. the presents are under the tree. our hearts and minds are weary and distracted by all the madness. and have you ever listened to snow? so quiet when it falls, it seems to blanket the air. it forces us to listen. sometimes you just have to stop what you're doing and be quiet. listen...

the last one to fall
remembers all who went
before and waits no more

ends and beginnings

although the calendar says the new year is still over a week away i think we should actually mark it tomorrow. tomorrow marks the shortest day of the year, or solstice. it is the day in ancient times when people actually observed the sun standing still. it happens twice a year, and after tomorrow we begin the slow crawl back toward summer. it is a time of natural transition. endings and beginnings.
outside my front door most of the trees have already stripped themselves of their leaves, and moved into a kind of hibernation period for winter. and in traditional fashion many of us too are wrapping up seasonal activities as we prepare for the end of one year and the beginning of another. i don't often make new year resolutions, but if i did i'd start tomorrow.

in a moment our
eyes will change made new by
perfect restoration

transformations

the boss got himself a new car the other day. after he picked it up at the dealer he brought it by the shop for everyone to take a look. typical new car. shiny happy face. plastic bits everywhere. cat eyed and large. as i walked around it i could only think one thing. that this newness would soon be gone, and that as it made its way along the highways of the bay area, it would soon begin to suffer. slowly at first. almost unnoticeably. the tires would wear and the paint begin to fade. the merciless elements would begin to oxidize and then rust much of the underside. all of the soft rubber would start to shrink and crack. small dings appear like so many pock marks. one day a rock will fly up and mar the clear windshield. and the inside too would begin to wear. leather cracks. carpet fibers mat and fray. and little by little it will eventually be worthless. i see it every day now. these vehicles that cost us so much to initially acquire and then maintain. and suddenly they come to the end of their road. the ugliest junkers still out on the road each day were once brand new and shiny. and desired and wanted. and then they change. and their value is gone. worthless. i will admit though, i still love that new car smell.

you took this form to
make our appeal from low and
high you represent

favorite things 17

while walking through the aisles of the roseville antique trove last year, i spotted this crude little nativity on a shelf. it immediately drew me in. something in the way it looked, the unpainted wood and hand hewn figures reached out to me in a kind of kinship. in fact the more i interact with each one, i have a sense that i am not unlike them. crude form altered by the creator's hand, and made to worship the baby Jesus. and now i am pleased to have them in my home, as they will continue to remind me of these things, and draw me closer in at this time of year.

no room to gamble
our lives are the decks laid out
as a hand we hold

Christmas checklist

stay focused. there's still lots more to do...

in humility
we stand tall confident in
our high position

monday blues

back now to the "it's just my job 5 days a week" thing...

the shield takes a
hammer and battles on through
all adversity

the registry

these are some shots from a recent outing with the boss at his local club breakfast. joe is a member in good standing of the porsche 356 registry. and very soon his own car will be on the road at these meets. we met this day in the parking lot outside san mateo's "mimi's" and i walked around like the new kid in school sizing up the student body. there were easily over a dozen examples of kaiser iron that morning in all manner of vint and condition. the great thing about this club though is that for the most part these guys really drive their machines. i watched as one after another came speeding up in the brisk cold of morning blasting its air cooled honesty for all to hear.


as i walked i watched and listened to the conversations between the owners, picking up new information on their passion and the subtle nuances between models. the fact that what looks like a cosmetic error is actually a drain hole for a sunroof car. as a more or less average carrera pulled up i was astonished as joe leaned over and told me what it was worth as is. and even as the economy has turned so many other investments upside down, all these guys have seen a return both financially and emotionally.

we fly off to stars
to fight against unseen foes
and blow them away

xmas dreams

as i gaze around the living room i am indeed reminded that Christmas time is here again. it sneaks up even as the years seem to speed up. and i can still remember gazing at the new school calendar in september and trying to estimate the days until Christmas break. months seemed to take years. and then we had our brief reprieve. and then it was back to a new year. and as the days grow ever shorter my sadness index increases in thinking about all those now gone days. we move from the anticipation and wonder to the responsibility and planning these holiday activities. sometimes i just miss riding in the back seat of the car and watching my mom or dad drive. and then it didn't matter where we were going. we were cared for, and that was enough.

seventy years ago today everything changed...

time now for call and

response to a weary and

waiting world below

assumptions

went walking through our still new to us neighborhood the other night. it is named for the local catholic parish that surrounds it. and each night if i step outside at 6 i can hear organ music and church bells ringing. last saturday, headed off to find ourselves a Christmas tree, i heard the bells chiming earlier than usual. this time it was 5pm. so the following evening i decided to head over there and check it out. i saw that they have a 5pm vigil service listed each saturday, but no mention of the 6 o' clock chimes. I later put an e-mail into the parish for an answer.
while i wait though, i have been reflecting on why it's even important in the first place. hearing the distant sound of bells and organ reminded me that i am part of a community, even if i do not attend this church. and in our little digital global community, where we can skype our friends and family in london or buenos aires, i was really digging this old time call to listen. i think about all the little villages and towns through out history that have had a central clock tower or church steeple to put the call out. in these bygone days they announced celebrations or solemn occasions and even sent out alarms for fire and attack from the enemy. so that all within listening distance had opportunity and warning to respond.
and as i walked back home i longed for a deeper sense of that community. in these ever more post modern times i wonder if there will ever again come a time when we will need such a system to call us together.

we bear a cross of
forgiveness and make ourselves
servants of the King

baller

today my first game as coach for my boys' basketball team. returning to my old junior-high campus where i hadn't walked the halls and open courtyard since leaving all those years ago. the gym reminded me of those long gone days, and p.e. and silent reading time. our team played hard, and leading by 6 coming down to the last 2 minutes in the 4th quarter, my fastest point guard went for a steal and got wrapped up in his man and both went tumbling to the floor. the other team's player, much bigger, fell on my little guy and as he did knocked his head to the hardwood and chipped one of his front teeth.
everything went still. i scooped up the chipped portion and bent down to my guy. he was still smarting hard, and knew right away what had happened. i waited to see how he would handle it. after a minute or longer he pulled himself up and i helped him to the bench. as play continued he told me he was "ok" and that he wanted to go back in. i told him he was done for the day, that he had done enough and now still up by 6 with a minute to go, that we were probably going to win this one. he nodded. his mom came over and told me they were on their way to the dentist. as they walked out of the gym i was struck by the fire in this kid's heart. and i wondered how i would have reacted at his age.
we held on to the lead as the clock ticked out and we all smiled. but as we all made our way out i continued to ponder the fact that i had been given the greater lesson today. some of my players asked if our guard would be alright, and i just answered "i'm sure he will".

memories cut the
grooves we follow of time's life
line spinning endless

record finds

so as i continued to try and sort out my new garage, i made a discovery the other day. buried in a box of old records my father in law had given me some time ago i found these very tiny ones. they are smaller than a 45 and have grooves on only one side. on the non-grooved side are patent dates from the very early 1900's. i'm assuming they are little 78's, but so far i haven't had the courage to play one. but i just thought they were so odd i wanted to share them. they are clearly before my time.

but even as i was sorting through my own records, and organizing the few 45's i do own, i was impressed by this deep history of recorded music cataloged not only in our own memories, and in the music itself, but also in the beautiful paper labels that adorn these old recordings. today as with the cover art it has mostly vanished into the digital matrix. these 3 look to be from about 1918, which means that my wife's 95 year old grandfather probably listened to them as a toddler. i'll have to see if i can turn them into mp3 for him before he's gone.

if you want to learn more about these tiny recordings there is a great website archiving the entire line. check it out here. i'm still amazed that after all this time, it is still possible to see something new pop out at you in a stack of wax.