The frost covered the fields across from our house as we pulled out the driveway just past dawn. The mostly-full moon shined bright in the pale morning sky. I turned the stereo on and "A Whiter Shade Of Pale," by Procol Harum filled the air. I sipped coffee from a go-mug and looked at Leslie, her skin smooth against the mist rising from the land. The thought of how fortunate I am did not escape me.
We drove slightly uphill till we reached the peak of a small rise on the highway toward Russeville. When the road leveled out, a panoramic picture of rolling land lay before me, reminiscent of the English countryside; trees sprinkled the fence lines and filled the far-off hills framing the horizon.
There were signs of commerce along the route amidst the country homes dotting the landscape. I wondered what it'd be like for someone from Europe to see this part of Kentucky for the first time. I often complain about living in Kentucky. "I'd rather be in Europe," I've told my friends upon many a gathering. And if the truth be told, I entertain this thought almost daily.
I like Europe because the people there seem to me to be much more broadminded. But then again, I've never lived in Europe; I've only visited there. No doubt that it's not as grandiose as I make it out to be. I'd imagine it's much like America; views change as often as the scenery. Certainly the French, with their love for wine and insatiable appetite for sex, would be much more accepting of the liberal minded than the Italians who live in the shadow of Roman Catholicism. They, much as we who live in the southern states of America, never escape the all-seeing eyes of the church; ours, of course, is Southern Baptist.
The English have conservative and liberal political parties, as we do. So they too, must be fraught with frivolous arguments of who-knows-best. But I must admit, there's a great advantage to having a pub on every corner, as England does, and trains and buses in even the smallest of villages. So, I cannot totally escape the fantasy of owning a farm in the English countryside. But what would an Englishmen think of this view I'm seeing right now, or a Frenchmen or an Italian? No doubt that they would be no less enchanted watching a beautiful woman drive them faithful toward Russellville. And when they'd return home, they'd tell their friends America is beautiful. And yes, I can verify she is. I'm lucky to have known her.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Tired of Pretending
I'm sick and damn tired of pretending every thing is okay. It's not okay. It sucks not being able to drive. It's just a damn hassle all the time. If I want an allergy shot or a haircut, or if I have to do anything that requires going in town, then I have to go in with Leslie and sit around all day long, wasting time, and then figure out how I'm going here or there, or where ever it is I need to go. Living in Rockfield, or just about anywhere in these blessed United States and not being able to drive just SUCKS OUT LOUD. All these frigging politicians arguing about "big government" or "abortion" or "whatever the latest bullshit they're saying to get elected" doesn't do handicapped people one damn bit of good. Who the hell is trying to help the blind, or the deaf anymore? NOBODY.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
vv
October 9, 2009
State Dept. on Nobel: 'Better to be thrown accolades than shoes'
Posted: October 9th, 2009 05:09 PM ET
From CNN State Department Producer Elise Labott
State Dept. on Nobel: 'Better to be thrown acolades than shoes'.
WASHINGTON (CNN) – "Certainly from our standpoint, this gives us a sense of momentum — when the United States has accolades tossed its way, rather than shoes."
That's the take of Hillary Clinton's State Department on President Obama being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, according to her spokesman, Assistant Secretary PJ Crowley.
Crowley was referring to the incident last December when an Iraqi journalist threw his shoes at President George W. Bush during his final visit to Iraq of his presidency.
Muntader Zaidi, who worked for the Iraqi television station Al Baghdadiya, hurled both his shoes at Bush and called him a "dog" during a press conference with Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki. He narrowly missed the president, who quickly ducked.
The shoe-throwing, considered one of the highest insults in the Middle East, illustrated the deep anger toward the United States over its invasion and occupation of Iraq.
Crowley's comments suggested a recognition by the Obama administration that the Nobel Prize was as much an indictment of the Bush administration as it was an effort to praise President Obama's outreach to improve the US image around the world.
Echoing comments by the White House, Crowley said the award was not just an "affirmation" of the Obama administration's foreign policy strategy of engagement, but also on its robust foreign policy agenda, which includes non-proliferation, dealing with Iran and North Korea, and pursuing peace in the Middle East.
"There is an opportunity here," Crowley said. "The tone has changed — but obviously we recognize that, while the tone in the world has changed, the challenges remain. They are very significant."
This "call to action," Crowley said, will fall primarily on the shoulders of Secretary Clinton and the State Department, who will look "to advance the president's agenda and confront the challenges of the 21st century."
Filed under: Nobel Peace Prize • President Obama • State Department
State Dept. on Nobel: 'Better to be thrown accolades than shoes'
Posted: October 9th, 2009 05:09 PM ET
From CNN State Department Producer Elise Labott
State Dept. on Nobel: 'Better to be thrown acolades than shoes'.
WASHINGTON (CNN) – "Certainly from our standpoint, this gives us a sense of momentum — when the United States has accolades tossed its way, rather than shoes."
That's the take of Hillary Clinton's State Department on President Obama being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, according to her spokesman, Assistant Secretary PJ Crowley.
Crowley was referring to the incident last December when an Iraqi journalist threw his shoes at President George W. Bush during his final visit to Iraq of his presidency.
Muntader Zaidi, who worked for the Iraqi television station Al Baghdadiya, hurled both his shoes at Bush and called him a "dog" during a press conference with Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki. He narrowly missed the president, who quickly ducked.
The shoe-throwing, considered one of the highest insults in the Middle East, illustrated the deep anger toward the United States over its invasion and occupation of Iraq.
Crowley's comments suggested a recognition by the Obama administration that the Nobel Prize was as much an indictment of the Bush administration as it was an effort to praise President Obama's outreach to improve the US image around the world.
Echoing comments by the White House, Crowley said the award was not just an "affirmation" of the Obama administration's foreign policy strategy of engagement, but also on its robust foreign policy agenda, which includes non-proliferation, dealing with Iran and North Korea, and pursuing peace in the Middle East.
"There is an opportunity here," Crowley said. "The tone has changed — but obviously we recognize that, while the tone in the world has changed, the challenges remain. They are very significant."
This "call to action," Crowley said, will fall primarily on the shoulders of Secretary Clinton and the State Department, who will look "to advance the president's agenda and confront the challenges of the 21st century."
Filed under: Nobel Peace Prize • President Obama • State Department
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Now
There's no time,
it's in your mind,
it never did exist.
It comes from pain,
regret and shame,
it's a long, slow goodbye kiss.
Everything is past
Everything is now,
Everything will come to pass
We're moving through,
the me and you,
the first and the last
If you look,
it's a finished book,
not a page has been wrote
It's never been,
It's always been,
Let it be
The truth is clear,
everyone is here
All are free
it's in your mind,
it never did exist.
It comes from pain,
regret and shame,
it's a long, slow goodbye kiss.
Everything is past
Everything is now,
Everything will come to pass
We're moving through,
the me and you,
the first and the last
If you look,
it's a finished book,
not a page has been wrote
It's never been,
It's always been,
Let it be
The truth is clear,
everyone is here
All are free
Pain
I just need a break from pain; pain from pressure, pain from drumming; pain from politics; pain from people with different politics; pain from digging trenches; pain from pain. But mostly, I need a scotch, single malt, please.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
A Road Not Taken
There are times I'm deeply troubled about the changes in my life. Sometimes I wonder if I know myself at all. It seems strange that I've gone from growing up in a family that rarely attended church, then became a devout Christian at age 25, only to find myself questioning the validity of the church now that I'm 53.
But the oddity of it all is that in many ways I've never changed. I drew a picture of a clock with wings and titled it, "Faith," when I was merely six or seven. Seeing as how my family almost never attended church, it seems strange that I would've even known what "faith" meant. Maybe I didn't, but I did have a very secure belief in God.
Maybe it's because I was nearly killed at age two when I was run over by a car. My skull was fractured front and back, both legs broken in several places, as well as my left arm. When my grandmother found me in the middle of the road, she said my skull was cracked open so wide she could see my brain. The ambulance never came. My cousin, William Cox, is said to have wrapped a rag around my head and held the wound together swhile my grandfather drove me to the hospital. They waited six days to operate and set my legs and arm because I was too weak to survive an operation.
Maybe when someone walks to the line between life and death, they are privy to the councils of the Almighty. I wonder if all who have touched the face of death and lived have a firm faith in God? I do.
So why am I deeply troubled about the changes in my life when there actually haven't been any changes at all?
Because I know there's still a road not taken.
But the oddity of it all is that in many ways I've never changed. I drew a picture of a clock with wings and titled it, "Faith," when I was merely six or seven. Seeing as how my family almost never attended church, it seems strange that I would've even known what "faith" meant. Maybe I didn't, but I did have a very secure belief in God.
Maybe it's because I was nearly killed at age two when I was run over by a car. My skull was fractured front and back, both legs broken in several places, as well as my left arm. When my grandmother found me in the middle of the road, she said my skull was cracked open so wide she could see my brain. The ambulance never came. My cousin, William Cox, is said to have wrapped a rag around my head and held the wound together swhile my grandfather drove me to the hospital. They waited six days to operate and set my legs and arm because I was too weak to survive an operation.
Maybe when someone walks to the line between life and death, they are privy to the councils of the Almighty. I wonder if all who have touched the face of death and lived have a firm faith in God? I do.
So why am I deeply troubled about the changes in my life when there actually haven't been any changes at all?
Because I know there's still a road not taken.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Incredibly Irresponsible
My mother refused to talk about politics or religion with anyone. She just flat out would not do it. I always thought it was because she didn't know much about either subject, but now I realize it was because she knew far more than I gave her credit for. I can't think of any two subjects that have caused me more harm, i.e., damaged relations, multiple misunderstandings, etc., etc., etc. My mother refused to attend church and she refused to vote. I thought her to be incredibly irresponsible for not doing either, but maybe she knew understood far more than me.
If you attend a church, you have to align yourself, in one fashion or another, with the people of that church, i.e., the way they dress, their ideology, even their eating habits. For example, Baptists brag about eating fried chicken, so if you attend a Baptist church, you're supposed to believe God cleanses the arteries of the faithful and stuff grease down your throat like a glutton. My mother didn't like fried chicken very much, so she never became a Baptist. My mother was very independent, so she wasn't about to let any preacher tell her what she should and should not do; therefore, she never offended or pissed off any preachers. But as for me, I rebelled against my mother and started attending church when I was a younger man. I found out that preachers have a habit of asking for volunteers. Being a young convert, I of course said yes to just about everything the preacher asked me to do. But after a few years, I needed a break, so I stopped volunteering. And when I did, the preacher paid me a visit. He wanted to know what was wrong, if someone had said something to upset me. When I told him I just didn't want to do teach a Sunday School, drive a church bus, help out in the baptistry and all the other various positions I had been donating all of my free time to, he was just heart broken. I hated it. There I was, sitting in front of a Man of God, telling him, "No, I don't want to work in the church anymore." It was a tough conversation, and it was one that my mother, who I thought to be incredibly irresponsible, never had to have. Why? Because she had much more sense than me. She knew that once you started doing something for someone, they expect more, and more, and more, and ....
And she knew if she started voting, then she'd have to inform herself about the politicians. She already knew all the local politicians because she ran a business. I suspect that's exactly why she wouldn't vote for them; she knew them. And she knew if she started following national politics, she'd probably slip up and tell someone what she believed. And she knew she'd eventually run into someone, as I often have, who would be pissed at her for voting for the opposing party. So, she simple had no political party. She didn't like any of them, which I thought to be incredibly irresponsible.
Maybe she was an idealist; she certainly lived apart from all the bullshit CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, ABC, CBS and Newsmax, 24/7, in your face media that floods our airwaves now. If she were still here, I suspect she'd never turn the television on. If she wanted to watch something, she went to the movies. She hated TV. She didn't even watch the news when JFK was assassinated, which I found to be incredibly irresponsible.
Well, I'd give just about anything I could be, or could have been, that irresponsible. Because in that irresponsibility lies the secret to living day by day. It's also the secret of getting along with everyone. So my creed and goal is to be incredibly irresponsible from now on.
If you attend a church, you have to align yourself, in one fashion or another, with the people of that church, i.e., the way they dress, their ideology, even their eating habits. For example, Baptists brag about eating fried chicken, so if you attend a Baptist church, you're supposed to believe God cleanses the arteries of the faithful and stuff grease down your throat like a glutton. My mother didn't like fried chicken very much, so she never became a Baptist. My mother was very independent, so she wasn't about to let any preacher tell her what she should and should not do; therefore, she never offended or pissed off any preachers. But as for me, I rebelled against my mother and started attending church when I was a younger man. I found out that preachers have a habit of asking for volunteers. Being a young convert, I of course said yes to just about everything the preacher asked me to do. But after a few years, I needed a break, so I stopped volunteering. And when I did, the preacher paid me a visit. He wanted to know what was wrong, if someone had said something to upset me. When I told him I just didn't want to do teach a Sunday School, drive a church bus, help out in the baptistry and all the other various positions I had been donating all of my free time to, he was just heart broken. I hated it. There I was, sitting in front of a Man of God, telling him, "No, I don't want to work in the church anymore." It was a tough conversation, and it was one that my mother, who I thought to be incredibly irresponsible, never had to have. Why? Because she had much more sense than me. She knew that once you started doing something for someone, they expect more, and more, and more, and ....
And she knew if she started voting, then she'd have to inform herself about the politicians. She already knew all the local politicians because she ran a business. I suspect that's exactly why she wouldn't vote for them; she knew them. And she knew if she started following national politics, she'd probably slip up and tell someone what she believed. And she knew she'd eventually run into someone, as I often have, who would be pissed at her for voting for the opposing party. So, she simple had no political party. She didn't like any of them, which I thought to be incredibly irresponsible.
Maybe she was an idealist; she certainly lived apart from all the bullshit CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, ABC, CBS and Newsmax, 24/7, in your face media that floods our airwaves now. If she were still here, I suspect she'd never turn the television on. If she wanted to watch something, she went to the movies. She hated TV. She didn't even watch the news when JFK was assassinated, which I found to be incredibly irresponsible.
Well, I'd give just about anything I could be, or could have been, that irresponsible. Because in that irresponsibility lies the secret to living day by day. It's also the secret of getting along with everyone. So my creed and goal is to be incredibly irresponsible from now on.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Rockfield morning
I walked out into the early morning mist. The sun had not yet surfaced the horizon. It's light sent a clear blue hue across the sky. I stood beneath a low tree branch and gazed out over the field across the road from our yard. The cattle that did move, moved gently, as if they were still clearing the sleep from their eyes. But the birds who had nestled in our woods quietly through the night were now wide awake. They chirped without ceasing, flew in formations from the trees over my head. The squirrel hopped from one treetop to another.
God can only be understood at the dawning of a new day. For it's then that one realizes God is not only the author of art; God is art. Only a being of absolute beauty could have created this canvas. How I long to know such beauty. To feel it every moment throughout the core of myself; to be in His presence and filled with His presence.
God can only be understood at the dawning of a new day. For it's then that one realizes God is not only the author of art; God is art. Only a being of absolute beauty could have created this canvas. How I long to know such beauty. To feel it every moment throughout the core of myself; to be in His presence and filled with His presence.
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