and seem to have nothing to say...

send away and see
each man his own policeman
promise guaranteed

"there are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not philosophers. yet it is admirable to profess because it was once admirable to live. to be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. it is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically"

- henry david thoreau

ain't got that swing...

our smallest guy had his birthday a couple of days ago and so we headed over to the golfland for a round of mini golf. being a veteran of the circuit i immediately tried to show everybody how it's done. "steady hands. lock the forefinger of your left hand with the pinky of your right...no swinging above the knees...and so on" needless, my invaluable golf lessons were completely ignored. i mean, come on. you're a kid and you've a got a bright colorful ball and a stick to hit it with, what fun is there in restraint, right? so as they launched and sliced and ricocheted off scale windmills, spanish forts and japanese pagodas i just beared down and played my own game. smooth, not to daring, sometimes taking the easy deuce over the risky hole in one attempt. sometimes laying it short in the water trap. and as my littles chased their balls up and down hills and sometimes through neighboring parties i quietly played on. my enemy myself. no tom foolery, no turning my putter into a sword to fence, no imagining i was a giant terrorizing the tiny golf community. and as we reached the 18th and i began to add it all up i really had to admit that they all had played a much finer game than i.

i am the air king
my kingdom invisible
be cool with me

waiting for a sign
show us what we need to do
we are still waiting

little bird

the other day i was doodling at work and when i looked down this little guy had appeared. odd bird. i liked him though. it looked as if he was wearing riding boots. so i scanned him and started playing around a little on illustrator. my little guy came in and began giving me color advice. here's what he looks like so far. i think he's starting to come into his own. a little like the penguin from munsingwear meets the partridge family - with riding boots. he's a little rough still, but beginning to emerge. a reminder to never throw away those doodles. and as the birds outside our front door are beginning to make their nests again, it's another sign that spring is here as birds are on the brain.

i am a pump house
my heart beats strong day and night
clad by rusty walls

can't stay away

in my younger days i was a real college hoops junkie. i love the tournament. i think it is by far the most exciting sporting event. single elimination play. fast up and down action. and kids, most of whom are well aware this is their final athletics stage. most of them will not make it to the nba, and are playing their hearts out.
march madness has seen me through good times and bad. i lamented a breakup with my girlfriend while watching unlv steamroll the field, and listened to the action on my radio waiting for the birth of one of my sons. and i love the whole bracket science. just give me an excuse to fill one out. i was cutting them out of the newspaper years before the internet made it so easy.
but as the years have rolled on it's become difficult to stay engaged. when you're in your 20's living with roommates, sure. but responsibility and a legitimate interest in other things (we tell ourselves more mature things) wanes the hours march madness used to suck up. and to be honest, this year i hadn't even seen one regular season college hoops game. not having cable doesn't help too.
but as thursday kicked off the first round of games i felt the call. like the sparrow returning to its nesting point each year i suddenly became very engaged. i popped open a bracket to take a look at the field. where were all the pac-10 teams? i got home from work and feverishly worked to finish filling out my bracket, even though many of the games had already been played. but it didn't matter. like the parable of the vineyard i had been called to work. maybe not in the early morning twilight hours like some of those other guys, but still, i was here now. and my wage would be the same.
and now as we are wrapped up from the opening weekend i am reminded of why i can't stay away. the deluge of information, teams i've never heard of, uniforms and mascots that are foreign to me. buzzer beating upsets by underdogs that make the whole house come down. and of course the cinderella stories. small and quick point guards who lead the charge against goliaths to the sound of riotous school bands and boosters. the army of media descending to the four corners of the country as greg gumbel anchors the desk in new york.
as much as i am enjoying the tourney, it is different now. i'm not sitting in a room with a bunch of other young guys hooting and rooting and comparing picks. instead i am teaching my own kids how to fill out the brackets, with the limited insights i've picked up over the years. how to fill out multiple brackets, the ones from your head and the ones from your heart. it's good times, and i may have just gotten a whole new generation hooked on the junk.

apparently i've been living as a criminal for years and didn't even know it...

hikin'

i went with my friend for a hike the other day to a place called hidden falls. we hiked all over and never found the falls because they were hidden. actually they were pretty easy to find. it was a perfect day, mild and sunny, and the earth was still soft and damp from a storm that had rolled through last week. as we walked along the trail we heard the sound of water rushing by on our left. the birds are darting here and there as they prepare for nesting. some flowers are already blooming on the trees. everywhere it felt like spring is already here. and so now it is.

and since the weather has been so fantastic this week i've been walking to work as well. i heard someone ask the question the other day "is that within walking distance?" and i thought, everything is within walking distance. it's just about adjusting your expectations a bit. and hopefully i can keep it up and extend my time outside this spring and summer. and then, who knows, anybody up for a camping trip or two?

we both ride real hard
me and my old lady are
bookin' from the law

do not feel the same
something's been missing lately
part of me carved out

does anybody remember shamrock shakes?

sambo's

retro thing recently posted a link to a website featuring interior and exterior photos of the old sambo's restaurants from the 60's and 70's. as a kid i remember going to the one in our town often. my parents and their friends loved the food and us kids dug the kitschy decor. we idled away many sunday nights there, and then one day they all just disappeared.
it wasn't until years later that i began to understand this was partially due to the "sambo" story and it's racial undertones. the characters inside the restaurant were based on the story "little black sambo" an old east indian tale by helen bannerman. "in the tale, an indian boy named sambo prevails over a group of hungry tigers. the little boy has to give his colourful new clothes, shoes, and umbrella to four tigers so they will not eat him. sambo recovers the clothes when the jealous, conceited tigers chase each other around a tree until they are reduced to a pool of delicious melted butter. the story was a children's favourite for half a century, but then became controversial due to the use of the word 'sambo', a racial slur in some countries and the illustrations, which are reminiscent of 'darky iconography' " - (from wikipedia)
the funny thing is, in the restaurants there were these wonderful graphics from the story arranged in sequence like a comic book. though in the restaurant version, instead of the tigers turning to butter, little sambo invites them all out to a sambo's restaurant for pancakes in exchange for his clothes back. also the little sambo in the restaurant iconography looks pretty white.

anyway, by the early 80's sambo's was all but done. their last (and first) location remains open in santa barbara should you want to bookmark it for a future road trip. ironically many of the old locations were bought up by denny's who would get into their own racial problems years later.
but sambo's will always remind me of simpler times as a kid before i even grasped the concepts that would ultimately put them out of business.

eyes gaze to seek sun
crossed by artificial light
buzzing ears and brain

go forward...move ahead

and where does that hour go? it's like we hold it in limbo all through spring and summer until one day in fall we release it again and get it back, only to lose all of those long days of daylight. it messes with our sleep and brings a promise of brighter days, but in the end it's all just a numbers game. we mark the price higher so that when it goes on sale nothing's really changed. "the sun comes up and the sun goes down, it does it again and again-the same old round" ecc 1

though we look alike
you and i are not the same
still i stand by you

favorite things 08

last year around Christmas time i was thrift shopping with my son and i spotted this little beauty for 79 cents on a bric-a-brac shelf. score. i brought it home and it quickly became my new favorite drinking glass. captain america. and then as fate would have it one day as it was soaking in a pan of water, i inadvertently put a pile of plates on top of it. when i lifted the plates later, captain america had been crushed. sadness. but as i lifted the broken pieces out of the pan of water a little zen story came back into my mind that goes a little something like this...
“you see this goblet?” asks achaan chaa, the thai buddhist master. “for me this glass is already broken. i enjoy it; i drink out of it. it holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. if i should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. but when I put this glass on the shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, i say, ‘of course.’ when I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.”
and so i, the grasshopper realized in that moment that sometimes our favorite things are already gone...

choose your own path well
and keep your feet beneath you
though you may stagger

no...it's a painting of a pipe.

the stage is set now
as the curtain comes up on
a table for one

round and round

we all go round and round. time to slow it down...

saturday morning
meet you down at main and church
to run the alleys

lost dolls 002

my wife's friend came over one day with her kids and they brought some of their toys with them. in the pile i spotted some dolls and decided to do a quick photo shoot with them. i asked her about this one and she didn't really seem to know a lot about it. it had always been in her house growing up. it may have even belonged to her mom she said.
it's hard to tell from the pictures, but her skin is like a composite rubber instead of the hard plastic a lot of other dolls are made from. in fact looking at the face of this little girl, she looks like she could have come from the 30's. a little depression era girl. her rubber skin gives a really interesting look as it ages. like the hard times of memory and scars over the years but contrasted with a hopeful sweet and angelic baby face. i call her bess.

change your attitude
elevate your sense of space
look up from your knees

trippin'

out on another freelance assignment today. i find a place to crash about every six weeks or so on a floor or couch of sympathetic friends who'll put up with me for a couple nights. it's always good to catch up and i miss my old hometown every time i'm here. but i've stopped banging my head against the wall trying to figure out how to get back. i will enjoy these times and as long as somebody down here is willing to lease me a little floor space, i'll continue to make the journey. a nice change of pace too. there is something a little humbling about being a guest in someone else's space where you're not in your own world of control and it's good to wake up every once in a while and wonder for a moment where exactly the heck you are.

you need to be here
sharing misery with us
an empty stool waits

electrodynamics

as a kid i remember the music of the organ well. it was at the ball game leading us note by note as we sweated out the charge. it serenaded those of us adept enough to shoot the duck or hold hands couple style as we skated the ovals of the roller rinks. saturday nights my parents would pull out the tv trays and cook up swanson salisbury steaks and we'd all sit in the living room and watch lawrence welk, where organ and accordian reigned supreme. and of course on sunday mornings we would all sing hymns together at church as the pipe organ humbled our off pitch souls. and it seemed like a lot of folks had electric organs in their homes then too. i know my grandparents did. my grandmother loved the sound and there were more than a few sing-a-longs as she slowly pedaled out the music in her slippers whistling vibrato.
so it's in that spirit that i'd like to share this latest musical pick. it's dick hyman and the lowrey organ - "electrodynamics" from command records - 1963. beside having an unfortunate name, dick hyman has had a storied career as a performer, composer and all around groovy guy. in fact, as far as i know, he still belts it out live from time to time and the man is in his 80's. as far as music goes this would be categorized as popular music of the day, although now we might call it retro, lounge or eclectic. whatever label you want to make, be sure you crank the volume high enough that grandma would approve. to start your own organ party click here to download.