Monday, October 31, 2011

The Things I've Never Done













Things I’ve never done
Some I’m proud I never did,
While wistfully thinking of those I’ve never tried.
There was one time most grim
When a divine force snatched me
As I teetered on a limb
I’ve never helped an old man cross a street
Splendid Ladies weren’t required to be old
Just neat, maybe sweet
Liking when they responded to:
“If I may be so bold.”
Not enough paper could hold
The places I’ve never been
Lists upon lists longing for more years to unfold
Stories yet to be told.
Not in envy of people do I sit
Irritating, they brag of journeys
The Rhine, Danube, and the Tuscan hills
Paris city when lights are lit.
Somehow pictures don’t serve to assuage
As time becomes too realistic a refrain
My lady suggests solace
Believing a way could be found
By train we rode together
And within the Santa Ynez Valley Wine land
We found
A place to visit
Where music, sun, and spirits abound!

***

What I have done, is work; it runs in the family. My Dad began his work life long before people, or our government worried about child labor laws. Growing up with him I don’t ever remember hearing the word career. Survival of the fittest would best describe so many of the immigrants who feverishly fought for family and country during the earliest first one third of the twentieth century. Their concerns weren’t over the places or things they had not been able to do; theirs was the day-by-day combativeness, and competitiveness of life itself.

At age fourteen, my Father and most of his friends worked to bring home some cash. The year was 1916.Effectively, in that era, childhood ended at age fourteen. At least that was the case on the lower east side of New York. You might say birth control wasn’t in vogue as yet. My Moms brothers and sisters totaled eight (kids) who managed to survive. Dad had nine in his family brood. The word welfare was non-existent. To get the proper prospective, here is a short list of what they didn’t have:

Multiple bathrooms (a waiting line)

Two ply toilet paper (many used news papers)

Elevators (multi floor tenements to walk up)

Refrigerators (ice boxes were the thing)

No radio or TV (they actually had to speak to one another)

Electric lights (just being introduced)

No car to drive (wagons, walking, & bikes)

Telephones (party lines for the upper middle class; separate private numbers for the rich)

Washing machines an dryers (forget about it)


And speaking of washers and dryers, the stories of the old timers and what they went through to get the families clothes laundered are to be cherished. The wintertime was especially challenging. Every kid had a pair of long johns; well actually they weren’t a pair. Most of them were one piece, buttoning up the front, with a flap in the back for when nature called. My Dad told me he was always reminded to drop his pants and to drop the flap. I loved the story my Father would tell about the great silent movie escape artist.

“The guy was trapped in a burning log cabin in the middle of a winter storm. There was only one window in the part of the cabin where he was being held captive. His back was pressed up against it. The sweat began to pour down his body. The heat of the fire was becoming too much for him to stand. He banged his head against the window until the glass splattered allowing the freezing chill to rush through the broken panes of glass. In nothing flat his long johns were frozen solid. He flipped down the rear flap and escaped out the back. The frozen underwear was left standing as his ladder to freedom flap.”

At this point all the kids were leaning in, mesmerized by every word my Dad would relate. The more dramatic he became the more they loved it. The way Dad told it, he was now a man sixteen years of age; the year was 1918. He’d tell those kids about the same escape, over and over again. But the absolutely amazing part was the way the kids were hooked on every word he had to say.
I remember a time in the army when I found myself in the predicament of having to wash my combat fatigue uniform in a frozen over Hahn River in South Korea. I hung the two pieces out to dry that evening. When I awoke the next morning I was instantly reminded of my father. The fatigues were frozen solid as if that was my intention to begin with. The arms and legs stretched out in a tee forming a perfect scarecrow. You can guess what my thoughts were in that moment.

Wholesome reflections don’t promote what you haven’t done. I will think of Santa Barbara, and the riches nature provides; the importance of properly decanting a bottle of fine wine, and being there to sample the splendor of another time. I’m free to think of it over and over enjoying the same story each and every time.



















Monday, October 10, 2011

Out to Lunch













Store Owner

That’s a nice hat; why didn’t you buy it from me? I carry hats like that.

Customer
Your door was closed.

Store Owner
The sign said out to lunch, didn’t it?

Customer
So that’s why I didn’t buy it from you.

Store Owner
I was going to come right back.

Customer
I was here for a couple of minutes and you weren’t.

Store Owner
You could have waited.

Customer
Down the street I didn’t have to wait. Besides…buyers don’t wait. Sellers wait.

Store Owner
I don’t understand.

Customer
It’s very simple. Don’t go out to lunch. Eat at your own private desk. Be a king in your own country.

Actors should always find a way to eat at their own desks. Being out to lunch is not an option. Your kingdom is waiting to be served. While you may be the king; and it’s good to be king (“Thank you Mr. Brooks”), wiggle room is not a welcomed characteristic for an aspirer to have. You may be a one-person kingdom consisting of just you, still you must constantly and continually aspire: To what, you might ask?

You must always be the king, or queen who is well prepared to serve his or her domain. Yours must be a realm where doors are never closed. Let those who seek you out, find you involved with the day-by-day process of intellectual growth necessary to serve those who find yours to be the “forever” open door.

No need to become a star. Being exalted will be quite enough!

Aspire to become exalted. But be forewarned, it often takes years of exertion before one reaches a state of exaltedness. Actor, director, producer, writer; how many will reach the heights? Your star on a boulevard or the naming of a street is not by itself the only qualification for an exaltation bestowal.

And Then There’s A Thing Called Self Exaltation

I have chosen to use my time on the freeway; twice each day, going and coming, as a time to write and to paint: Not to text. Fact is…I don’t know how to text. I’m not breaking the law. I have those stupid little white things plugged into each ear in the event someone finds a sapient need to reach me. I dislike my cell phone with a great passion. I don’t even like calling it mine. Yet, I find myself in the seldom-revered minority. To stay in touch with someone, anyone at all times, is the acceptable thing to do.

Yesterday at the train station, while awaiting our connection to return from a tour of a beautiful and most tasteful adventure in the Santa Barbara wine country, I was astounded by a group of college students who were returning from somewhere. There had to be at least fifty of them. Almost without exception each of them was armed with an up to date, state of the art cell phone. All were plugged in and talking. Without hesitation the reporter in me took over. Who could these young derelicts be conversing with at 6:PM on a Sunday evening? They were there together that day, or weekend on what had to be a wonderful sojourn, sharing the God like vistas of northern California. They stood together without touching, without looking into each other’s eyes, and certainly unaware of anything transpiring around them. They refer to it as “social networking”. Of course my questions will forever be unanswered. But my mind wanders; now back to more pleasant thoughts. It wasn’t my intention to make this about me. This shouldn’t be about me. …but since it is, what the hell! This is be about what I do with respect to driving the freeway each and every day of the week, in order to meet with people dedicated almost totally to their own glory search. These are the multitudes who strive to remain as breadwinners. Just as the cave people in their respective eras, they wander in order to eat. As is the case today, there is no glory in being a caveman or woman. There is, however a chance to achieve exaltation.

Going to work in the morning definitely differs from the drive I take on the way home each evening. In the morning I am definitely more adventurous than in the afternoon or evening.

Between seven and eight each morning I enter the freeway with the same goal in mind, to get over as far to the left lane as possible, as fast as I can. I treat the on ramp as my launching pad. With my left turn indicator signaling I step on the accelerator and I’m well on my way towards the sixty-five mile an hour lift off , as the wheels of my truck touch the far right lane of the freeway, exaltation! Within seconds I have moved from the far right slow lane across to the far left speed lane. As I glance at my speedometer a hint of a smile crosses my lips; I’ve reached the seventy-mile an hour mark, and I’m on track towards a new record; continued exaltation. This of course won’t qualify for a new record. (Because) It’s Saturday morning. I’m working this Saturday morning. In twelve minutes flat I arrive at my Burbank studios. From Encino to Burbank, a trip, which can take me as much as an hour during a weekday morning excursion. What a difference a day makes. The vast majority of working folks don’t realize what a great day Saturday is.

Long before I became aware of my custom, it had turned into a continuing daily practice. I gave no thought to the enormity of the project. Each morning and evening my changing cast of players performed for a different audience. The players appeared; some more fleeting than others; dependent on the flow of traffic.
They’d be there similarly disturbed, or undisturbed by this writers cause.

Some would call this lengthy maze a road, or a highway, or a freeway. Few would see this as a stage of players. But what if they were just that? What if it was the largest cast ever assembled on any one stage. Could I ever have the skills called for by the producer of this epic in order to stage this play?

There for me with each sight leading to another then being dismissed without cause, instituted by me. It becomes an endless stage with all players within this system hidden by the steel surrounding them on all sides.

***
Note:

• There are exactly 53 Saturdays in this year 2011. Each weekday morning it takes me on average forty minutes to travel from Encino to Burbank.
• On Saturday mornings my average travel time is fifteen minutes; representing a life saving twenty-five minutes for each and every Saturday I work.
• If I work fifty Saturdays this year I would be saving 1, 250 minutes, or a total of close to 21 hours.
• Is it any wonder then how many people like you and me become frustrated as they sit in their cars stopped on any number of local freeways?

A person could do a lot of reading in twenty one hours, or spend some valued part of this life on a cell phone.

Monday, October 3, 2011

"Discovering the Wheel"



(They think-- I think not)


Actually “They Discovered the Sled “



Quiz time:


  • What do people do when they can’t find work for an extended period of time?
  • What is, or would be considered an extended period of time for the average person
  • What denotes the terminology, average person?

Not to worry, it isn’t my intention to return to the beginning of time, to provide the proper documentation in order to answer the questions posed at my lead in.

Lead in; now that’s sounds so familiar to me.


In the event you’re curious, here are some possible answers as provided by the earliest of Cavemen, and translated by me for your convenience.

And yes, I do speak Cavemanish!


In the prehistoric era women had not yet developed a voice of their own. Most women hung out around the cave doing chores until the man of the cave needed something. The woman’s main assignment was carrying things around from place to place. This was not easy work, especially when the carrying took place as the man of the cave was dragging one of his gals by the hair. Most cavemen of substance kept three or four women at his beck and call. Since the language of the day was mostly grunts, groans, screams, and a variety of body sounds; (nothing has really changed) communications with each of the women of the cave was troublesome at best; which would explain why many of the women died as they were being pulled by the hair, from one location to another.


It was during one of these pulling by the hair incidents a great discovery took place. A particularly long woman (people were referred to as either long or not long in those days; since they had no language as yet, stretching ones arms apart would signify how tall or short a female was; arms apart for long, arms together for short) was busily carrying a heavy load of rocks, when her caveman decided he needed her help. As usual she couldn’t figure out what he wanted so he grabbed her by the hair and began to pull her in his desired direction. She lost her balance and was flipped over on her back as he continued to pull. It was then he discovered it was much easier to pull a load from place to place with the carrier flat on her back. Ergo the sled, as we know it today was discovered. This procedure also explains why many of the women expired while being dragged along the ground.


The procedure of human sledding didn’t last very long. In no more than six or seven hundred years the cavemen and cave women learned to communicate by the actual use of some primitive words; Many of those same words are still being used by members of our society today. It was also during this era that the first songbook came along. It happened as one of the cave women was performing the nightly chore of readying her mans bed. She accomplished this by warming the bedrocks she found lying around the cave. While carrying her mans hot rocks from the fire to the bed slab, she inadvertently dropped a few of them to the floor of the cave. As the rocks fell, some began to roll away from her; she tried picking them up, only to have the process continue. The rocks fell and rolled; she picked them up as others hit the ground. It was then that the rest of the family began to sway to the beat of the rocks hitting the ground. And of course, you guessed it; this was the beginning of rock and roll music as we know it today; the words were not discernable, but the beat was overpowering, especially in the larger caves with the high ceilings and long hallways.


“In Those Days”


· People and animals had a great deal in common; they wandered the earth. It was described on the walls of the caves as “wandering, or roaming”.

· A day, a week, and a month, it was all the same to them. Their work was called eating. When they became hungry it always felt like an extended period of time.

· They were all average. Everybody dressed the same; the men all carried clubs, and never shaved. The women didn’t carry clubs; they to didn’t shave. Romance was nonexistent. There was no candlelight; it was dangerous to stay out in the moonlight.


“The first rock group.”



They didn’t tour. They played the same cave every evening.


Circa unknown.


And now after many centuries of man’s development, lo and behold (I love saying “lo and behold”) there exists many curiosity questions for one to ponder. Why have so many things changed, while so many things have stayed the same? Why have most people thrown their clubs away (except for when they play baseball) while others look for folks to hit over the head? Although clubs and hitting has been supposedly banned from public use, hitting still remains a form of communication within certain tribes.

Have you taken notice; today’s cavemen shave less, while the women shave more? (Or do I have that backwards?) Or is that just in San Francisco?


And it appears to me people and animals still have much in common, especially when it comes to being hungry. Just like in the old days; a hungry animal is liable to do anything, depending on how hungry he happens to be. Human beings often react the same way. Some people actually still steal food; mostly from places like 7-11.


There’s a lot of strange stuff going on. The other day this guy was telling about this place he went to where the women are required to remain completely covered from head to toe when out in public. Many of these societal dictates remarkably resemble those of the original cavemen, minus of course the rock and roll music that they have also disallowed. I asked the guy about how a woman goes about getting a passport picture taken. “That’s easy”, he responded. “They’re not allowed to leave the country.” Wow! That is exactly what the cavemen did with their gals. Many of these societal dictates remarkably resemble those of the original cavemen, minus of course the rock and roll music they have also disallowed.


I began with


Quiz time:


· What do people do when they can’t find work for an extended period of time?

· What is, or would be considered an extended period of time for the average person?

· What denotes the terminology, average person?


Do I have answers to any of these questions? Probably not. But for this average person what I can do is bring forward my personal testimony after having been there, and in my minds eye always being able to remember living with the anguish.


· Each day without work is a day of frustration and wonder. How does the man who is working do it? How did he get there? Will I ever work again?

· Without means to satisfy ones obligations, is an extended period of time.

· Being average is an excuse for being average.


A Critique


By some who have read this work,

Feeling duty bound to ridicule and smirk,

Those of intellect so sorely lacking,

This author never the less revels in their attacking.


Truth be told

Ciphering the walls of a cave

Isn’t necessarily that bold.

What was then returns to us now.

Disclosed between these lines

The separation of man and things might be found.


New things have been invented; but man’s sameness will astound.



Wake up da harv. We can’t return to the beginning of time. Rarely can we ever return to anything that once was; except perhaps evil.


Actually no language was required. All they were able to do was draw pictures. It was of course the introduction to what was later known as “French Postal Cards” (Porn).


True they didn’t speak, but they could hum, especially at night when they were putting the cave kids down to sleep.


Today’s women still keep carrying things around for the men. Sleds have been replaced in the better cave garages with things called BMW’s. These gals may be seen scooting around and dropping off the kids like fish, at places called schools.


Some men still keep more than one woman on call. There are even men who pay to have these ladies waiting in different locations around the country. Many athletes and politicians fall into this category. The story of how the sled was invented is at best debatable, since the original translations of the pictures on the cave walls was done by a Middle Eastern scholar who had the women being depicted on the walls completely covered from head to toe with cloth that had not yet been invented. Other anthropologists claim the sled was invented during a heavy snowstorm. The woman merely lost her balance and slid down the snow and icy hill.


The history of rock and roll is exact. Today many folks do the very same things with their rocks; only now they’re plugged in electrically.


“In These Days”


· People still wander the earth, traveling by bus, train, plane and car. Today’s people rarely walk.

· Then and now, eating is eating.

· Today the police, baseball, and hockey players are the ones with the clubs. Many of them also carry guns in order to protect themselves from the average people. Cave women had men to protect them. Today’s women carry pepper spray.

· In the old days the average people all wore sandals. The average people today still all wear sandals. Cavemen didn’t have socks. Today’s men and women have socks, but find little need for them. In the old days feet were ugly; they still are. It was commonplace for a caveman’s butt to be revealed when he bent over; the same applies to a great many men today.

· Romance was non-existent then, and it’s becoming that way today.

· Cavemen didn’t pray. They still don’t.


Social graciousness has never been less average than it is today. Or is it just my imagination?