Monday Musings

No clouds today. The sky was naked blue. Odd. Mary and I started the day with a walk down the now famous railroad easement. There were a few remaining puddles along the footpath, but some meathead in an "off-road" vehicle churned them into muck and ruined substantial chunks of the trail. We had to walk through the weeds. Walked over to the Maintenance Yard, and signed for my time from Saturday. And then home. A little yardwork. I hate yardwork.
And I always feel like I should like it. You know- making contact with Gaia. Artistically shepherd the vegetation surrounding the domicile; create a spot of beauty. All well and good. But I still don't like it.
We have these shitty palm trees that my brother planted here years ago- Wait a minute. I'm going to go get a picture.

There. I mean check it out- That looks like Crown of Thorns material. It pokes the crap out of you when you trim the damn things. And the planter boxes filled with geraniums? Geraniums stink. I hate the smell of hacking them, and if you leave a chunk of geranium stem in the dirt, you get a whole new plant. The only thing going for geraniums is that you don't have to take care of them. You can't kill them with effort, and they keep the planter box filled. Like I said. I just can't get into yardwork.

My Dad used to like it. I've reached an age where I sometimes see him in my own reflection. I can't believe it has been sixteen years... Every now and again you catch a glimpse of yourself unawares. Like the other day at Costco, seeing myself on the video cam. Mary remarked on it- seeing her reflection, and suddenly realising that the last vestige of that cute young thing is gone. That old fart is me. Don't get me wrong here; it isn't all bad. Mostly it's pretty cool.

Today I stopped by the corner 7/11 to use the no fee ATM. Some guy tried to panhandle me. "Hey, Sir? Could you help me out with a dollar?"

See, I've hit the age where they call you 'sir', instead of 'bro'.

And I guess "Spare change" has hit a dollar minimum contribution. But time are hard. The other day I saw a guy pushing a shopping cart. Then I recognized him. A relation of an old friend. It is scary to see people on the streets. On the one hand, I am aware that no one, myself included, is immune from it. Just plain hard luck puts some folks there. Bad decisions help. I have had both. I always swear I'd never stoop to panhandling, but what if...

And the other thing that gets scary is the thought of the situation getting worse. Getting hit on for a buck is one thing, getting beat up for it ... How far away?

I don't mean to wax all grim here, but most of the news is just discouraging. The networks, and newspapers are an ever shifting fun house mirror, distorting the information they peddle into their own version of reality. And the newspapers are printing themselves into extinction. Today's LA Times was no thicker than The Whittier Daily News. I can get a more accurate picture on-line, but not a more encouraging one. And through it all, you have to decide what stuff you hear is true, and what stuff is a distortion of the truth. It's a sea of information, and trying to get the truth out of it is like trying to drink sea water. None of it is untainted. So you look to the deeper source, turn to the wise, or to Scripture for access to the clear water of the deeper Truth. It's what I did yesterday. Clicked on Bible Gateway, and went here. Sometimes I feel like I catch a glimpse, make out a little of the broadcast through the static. All you can do is keep looking; keep tuning in.

JWM