Good Intentions

Lately I've been thinking about the difference between what one person means and what another person perceives.  Take my brother, John, for instance  (You know him, he was Walter the Chicken's mid wife).  When he was much younger, he was an MP stationed at Ft. Leavenworth, KS...not at the prison, but the Army base there.  Our mother lived about an hour away so John would stay with her when he could.  One night he was on his way back to the base from Mother's house, driving on a back road, when he happened upon a couple of hunting type dogs in the middle of the road.  All involved were surprised at the sudden encounter and made reflexive avoidance maneuvers.  Unfortunately for the dogs, they didn't move the way John thought they would and he hit them.  When John pulled over to inspect the damages to animal and machine, he found to his dismay that one of the dogs had not survived.  However, he did notice the other had managed to head out over the farm field next to the road.  Hoping to assess the damages to the remaining hound and possibly ensure that it didn't just wander off and die, John set out in hot pursuit....not thinking about the fact that he was in full MP uniform...white belt, white gloves, white hat and all.  Springing over the barbed wire fence separating the field from the road he encountered his first snag.....in reality...he tore his pants on one of the barbs in the fence.  Undaunted, he continued in his determined course.  This course led him through two fields (and over two more fences) and eventually to a third fence.  Being a bit tired by now, he decided instead of trying to vault over another fence, he would scramble up a pile of dirt that was near the fence to assist him in making the crossing.  Taking a quick hop to the top of the mound, he immediately sunk to his thighs in cow manure, uniform and all.  Taking stock, he figured it couldn't get any worse so he waded out of the aromatic muck and climbed over the fence.  He was determined to find and help the injured dog.  After all, these were probably some body's pets and he wanted to make sure that at least one survived.  So, off he raced into the night. 
The chase finally lead to the yard of a farm house.  Upon his arrival, the injured dog, not understanding John's desire to help, immediately sounded the alarm as only a hound dog can.  Moments later, before John could calm the dog in order to survey the damage it had incurred, he was confronted with an angry, pajama clad farmer armed with a double barrel shot gun pointed menacingly at John's chest.  Finally willing to accept defeat, John simply raised his hands, turned and returned by the path in which he had come.  He arrived at his post late and had barely made it in the door when his superior ordered another MP to take John, smelling heavily of the farm, outside and hose him down.  Not understood by the dog, not understood by the farmer and not much appreciated by his superiors; John's night was complete.  I'll not bore you with a long consideration of the moral here....I think you can come up with one..............................Later

PS: I must be suffering from some form of Beatlebrania....today I'm stuck on Norwegian Wood!

Getting Stuck

Lately I've been thinking about stuff that gets stuck in your mind.  For example, today I was driving to work and listening to NPR, as usual.  They were doing a piece on how the prices of used cars were rising and then tied that to a piece about the price of a pen by saying that if we had money left over after buying the used car, we might want to look into buying the pen.  It seems it's near John Lennon's 70th birthday and the Mont Blanc pen company has created a special pen.  It has saphires and diamonds and the word "Imagine" written in white gold on the barrel of the pen.  It can be yours for only $27,000.  Now as rediculous as that is, its not what is bugging me today.  What I can't seem to shake is the music they were playing as a background to the piece.  It was the Beatles singing "Baby you're a rich man."  That is what has been in my brain all day..."Baby you're a rich man, baby you're a rich man, baby you're a rich man too-ooo".  As if that hasn't been bad enough...its the only part of the song I can remember so that one line is all that has been running through my mind.  Not only am I bugged that I can't get it out of my head but now I'm bored to death with hearing that one solitary line on a continuous loop in my brain.  I'm hoping that sharing this little bit of torture with you will finally dislodge it from my overworked grey matter.  Gosh, I hope I haven't rid myself of it just to have it lodge in your brain......  What a shame that would be.....  As they say, Misery loves company..............................................Later

Reality?

Lately I've been thinking about something my Philosophy professor said a very long time ago.  Its something he used to start a discussion on reality and how to define it.  Of course, that particular discussion never ends for a philosopher and continues today in every philosophy class in the world.......as well as every dorm room, bar, office break room, etc.  He said simply "Perception is Reality".  I, at first, objected believing that reality exists independent of perception...and maybe it does.  The question is, does that matter?  If someone perceives a thing to be a certain way, for that person, that is their reality.  Let me tell you a story from the family archives.  When I was very young, maybe 3 or so, my dad worked two jobs and one one kept him late at night.  This left my mother in the uncomfortable position of being home alone at night with four small children.  We lived in a not so great part of town and Mother felt vulnerable.  She was not fond off guns but decided she might at least get a realistic model of a 45 automatic pistol in hopes that it would, perhaps,  discourage a would-be intruder.  I might add that besides the 4 small children, she also had at her disposal our family pet, Tinker.  Tinker was an extremely friendly and excitable Dalmatian which was kept indoors at night.  Tinker never met a stranger he didn't like and immediately greet with excited yelps and barks.  One night, the feared of event occurred.  A man with some sort of ill purpose unexpectedly burst into our poor home.  Mind you, we lived in the basement of a house that was not yet built.  Why anyone would think we might have something they would find of value is beyond me but for some reason this guy thought breaking in was a good idea.  Upon entering he was immediately confronted by Tinker who began noisily straining at his leash...he was kept tied up at night...in an attempt to rush to this new potential friend and greet him with many gleeful salutations and doggy kisses.  Next, he found himself face to face with a frightened young mother wielding a large toy pistol pointed directly at him.  For some reason, he turned and ran away.  Our reality was that a vulnerable woman with a toy gun and a friendly dog had greeted him upon his arrival.  His perception was that a vicious animal and a well armed homeowner confronted him to foil his plans.  Fortunately for my mother, the intruder's perception appeared to be reality to to him and he acted on that perceived reality. 

I'm thinking that most situations have at least as many realities as the number of people involved.  I try to keep my mind open to other peoples reality and give them the benefit of the doubt if they don't act in a way that my reality would interpret to be reasonable. I don't always get the job done, but I try.   Well......I perceive that I have to get back to work now....I believe that to be my boss's reality at this moment so I'm going to act accordingly...................................Later

Good Morning Utah

Cogitation

Lately I’ve been thinking about….well….thinking. I mean, just what is thinking all about, anyway? Why do we think? Who started thinking first? When did I start thinking? You know… the simple stuff. I know, this all sounds like Freshman Philosophy 101 or the stuff of a midnight dorm room bull session (which are basically one in the same thing) but when you think about it, thinking is a pretty big deal. A real philosopher, Rene Descartes, thought about it. In fact he thought about it so much, that he determined the only way he could prove he existed at all was that he could think about stuff. Actually what he said was “Dubito ergo cogito; cogito ergo sum” (I doubt, therefore I think; I think, therefore I am). He started doubting that things actually existed but were, instead, figments of his imagination. Is that table really there or do I just think it’s there? That sort of stuff. He had taken it all the way to doubting that he himself actually existed when it dawned on him that if he could doubt, it meant that there was some organized force that was thinking and creating the doubt. So, if thinking was going on he must actually exist because if he didn’t exist, there wouldn’t be anyone to do the thinking which created the doubting, etc., etc. Anyway, it worked for him. Another thing about thinking that gets me thinking is that there doesn’t seem to be any rules. You can think of simple things or complex things. You’re thinking can be right or wrong or both at the same time (you can be right that you’re wrong or wrong that you’re right). You can think something is there and it is or think that it is and it’s not. You can think you know what you’re talking about when you really don’t…take my blog for example… Another thing…..you never stop thinking, even when you’re asleep. When you’re asleep, they call it dreaming. Don’t believe me? Just try to stop thinking. Then all you can do is think about not thinking. Hmmmm, this could go on forever…..which, by the way, is one of the best things about thinking. It never will stop, even when your body does. For now, I think I’m tired of all of this thinking…………………Later.

Tombstones

Lately I've been thinking about Epitaphs.  Its not that I'm in any hurry to put one to use, its just that ever since my lovely wife and I took a stroll around City Cemetery here in Salt Lake, they've been on my mind.  I've always enjoyed walking through a cemetery and reading the grave stones.  I like trying to get a sense of a persons life by comparing the dates on their head stones to what I know of the history of the times in which they lived, the length of their lives, the presence or absence of family members near them and, sometimes the best of all, the few brief words which may be chiseled there.  Some of these inscriptions are not of much use in constructing a picture of the person lying there.  "Rest in Peace" doesn't really give you much to go on.  Others may be lengthier but still give you no real insight.  They may be meant to offer comfort to those left behind such as "The Lord is My Shepherd" or "Even so In Christ, Shall All be Made Alive".  They also reveal little of the personality of the one being memorialized.  Others begin to open a window ever so slightly on the life being commemorated.  Statements such as "Beloved Mother" (Wife, Father, Son etc.) or "Gone too Soon" help you begin to build a mental image of a person's life.  However, the ones I appreciate the most are the statements that in some way try to capture the essence of a life now passed.  Some are a line from a favorite poem. "She walks in Beauty as the Night" or "Awaiting the Touch of a Little Hand, the Smile of a Little Face".  Others may address themselves to the nature of the person:  "A Gentle Man and a Gentleman", "She Always had a Smile on Her Face" and "Her Heart was Pure and Full of Joy". 

I know I won't really get to pick my own when its my time.  After all, at that point what I want said about me won't be as important as what those who remain need to say in order to remember me best.  But, after looking back on the undeserved gift this life has been and seeing all the triumphs and sorrows, all the time I've soared or  fallen and how often I've needed forgiveness and received it; I'd like to suggest the following to those who will consider what to say to sum up my life.  In the words of one of my very favorite hymns............
"O, to Grace How Great a Debtor"   ...............................................Later

Excuses

Lately I've been thinking about excuses. Like - why the heck has it taken so long for me to do another post? The truth is....I don't have an answer to that; just excuses:
Life gets busy...
I can't think of anything someone would want to read...
Someone stole my idea, now I have to come up with another one...
I have a great idea but don't know how to put it in words...
what do you want from me, I'm just one man?!...
My muse is on vacation...
I'm on vacation...
You can't rush creativity...
.
.
How about telling the truth? Well, maybe it'll fly.. Here goes. I just didn't get to it. I promise to try harder next time..................Later