Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Finder Keeper




My wife is the family radar. She instinctively knows the location of everything.  On contrast, I instinctively don’t know this location of anything. This is my gift.  So on many hectic mornings, I ask for the location of many things.

“Honey, have you seen my shoes?”

They are in the closet, behind the door!”

“And my belt? I just had it!  Where did it go!  Who stole my belt!”

“It is on the corner of the bed! Who would steal THAT belt?”

“Hey! it is a good looking belt! My wallet?  I can’t find it!”

“On the table.”

“Have you seen world peace?”

“World peace is in the third drawer of the dresser.”

“Good we should call the president. While I call could you find the cure for cancer?”

Monday, August 29, 2011

September skies.




Flowing through the grasses and trees the late summer wind assumes the hints of fall. These are the days of remembrance: the days that move my soul. Indeed, the slightest September scent can instantly trigger thoughts of my youth. However the most powerful trigger is the color of a September sky.

With the retreating heat, the sky moves from the hazy dull blue of summer to the brilliant crisp blue of fall. Lovers might praise the golden change of the trees however let’s take a few moments to cast our gaze upward.

We can’t endlessly stand in a state of awe.  We would become annoying to our family and friends.  However throughout the day, we can briefly pause and consider our lot this world.  And in one of these moments, don’t forget to look upward.


As always, be good to you. 

Sunday, August 28, 2011

The Art Show and the Homeless Man



I recently had art show.  Throughout the night, I causally walked through the crowd and engaged in many wonderful conversations. I adore discussing art and after the show my voice was raw from use.

After the show I stopped for gas at a near station preparing for a long and late trip home.  At the station, a homeless man approached and asked, “Sir can I ask for your help?”


I have many quirks. One quirk is the inability to say no to the homeless when they ask for help.  In my life, I have never failed to give money if I had money to give. I once lied to a homeless man telling him that I had no money when I did. After walking twenty feet, I felt so guilty that I returned to the man and give money to him.

On vacations in large cities, I give all my money to my wife.  This method is trickery however it works.  Also I do not consider a debit card to be money.  So technically I do not have money, on my person. 

So while pumping gas I ironically and confidently replied to the man, “I am sorry but I don’t have money.

The man pushed, “The people in this town are cruel. I am not from here. I would not waste your time asking for your money.  I need some food. Just a little. Not much at all.” 

With his rebuttal he defeated my gambit, which has been so successful in the past. Showing him my cash barren wallet I continued, “I don’t have money. But when I pay for my gas, I can buy you some food from the station.”

Again he parried, “I don’t want anything from here. I am hungry. Can I please have some real food?”

“Wait here. Let me pay for my gas and I will drive you to Wendy’s which is right down the road.”

So after an art show, a homeless man and I drove to a Wendy's. After Wendy’s I drove him to a shelter.   He liked eighties music. So I found a good radio station that played the classics while we enjoyed the cool night air.   He told me about his life. He is from a farming community in south Arkansas and he is trying for a new start.

A few days later, my wife downloaded the recent bank transactions. Curious, she asked, “Larry did you spend about 20 dollars at Wendy’s?"  

I nodded, “Yes, a homeless guy was really hungry! And wow, He could eat!”

Laughing she said, “You are not kidding; are you?”


Yes I have issues.  But how many people, driving a topless jeep, have drove around town with a homeless guy while listening to “And we Danced” by the Hooters and eating a Wendy's meal?

As always, be good to you! 

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Think Different




Here’s to the crazy ones.
The misfits.
The rebels.
The troublemakers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.
They’re not fond of rules.
And they have no respect for the status quo.
You can quote them,
disagree with them,
glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They invent.
They imagine.
They heal.
 They explore.
They create.
They inspire.
They push the human race forward.
Maybe they have to be crazy.
How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art?
Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written?
Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?
We make tools for these kinds of people.
While some see them as the crazy ones,
we see genius.
Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world,

are the ones who do.


The above is the long version of the "The Crazy Ones" and "Think Different" slogan of Apple in the 1990s 

Friday, August 26, 2011

Welcome to Today


Say hello to today.  Today is not yesterday and it is not tomorrow. So, welcome to now.  Yet just for a moment, let’s leave now and peel away the years. Let’s return to when we were 12.  Are you there yet?  Don’t hurry. I will wait. Can you see yourself at that age?

Now what are you doing?  Maybe you are running on a pier to bravely jump into the water.   You could be at the top of a tree: the prince or princess of all the land. Maybe you were too shy to speak to that special boy or girl.  Maybe you could not stop talking.

Now remember your dreams and your hopes.  Remember the things that made you smile. Well, today is a good day to get started on those things.  It is about time; don’t you think?

As always, be good to you. 

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The rise of the fitted sheet

Pastel 8x12  
done as a quickie taking about 15 minutes
Some things take more time



My house is full of magical things.  When I press a button, ice drops into my glass. Seemingly, I have an unending supply of the frozen stuff.   My glass is cleaned by another touch of a button. Running through a magic box even the air in my house stays cool in the heat of summer.  All of these magical devices are amazing!

Struck with a fit of consideration and wanting to impress my wife, I decided to help around the house and try to operate two magical devices in my home: the washer and dyer. 

First every man needs goals in life.. To achieve the goals, men need a clear path or a plan of action.  My goals were simple.  My heroic quests were to clean linen and clean the bathes and bedrooms.  So here is my tale as it actually occurred. No names have been changed to protect the guilty.

It was a dark, stormy day and the workers in the fields paused to consider the threat of…………….wait wrong story.    So after filling the washer with linen, I paused to consider the settings and my main concern was the water temperature.  Do I select cold/cold?  Warm/cold?  Hot/warm?  I decided the hotter the better.  If the washer had the setting “the face of the sun” I would have chosen that.

After washing and drying the linens, the task of making the beds was next.  First at bat were the fitted sheets.  One corner fell in defeat. Satisfied in my victory, I tucked the second corner and then the third.  The last corner is when my plan found difficulty.   When I attempted to tuck the last corner another corner would suddenly spring free.  I made at least six trips around the bed doing a fitted sheet merry-go-round.   With each attempt to fasten the last corner another corner acquired the urge for freedom.  I could not suppress the linen uprising.

Frustrated by the audacity of the fitted sheet, I paused.  Then I jumped back on the line merry-go-round for more fun.  Finally after 20 minutes, I defeated the unruly sheet.  

In the glow of victory, I paused to consider the battlefield and thought, “I think I should select cold/cold next time.”

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

eye test


Recently I had an eye examine. I am getting older and my peepers are aging with my body.  Apparently eyes are a body part.  My wife, giving moral support, was present during the examination.  The following is a top secret transcript from the examination or interrogation room.

"Sir, please read the smallest line possible"

"Could you change the chart and get bigger letters?"

"OK, how about now?"

"Hmmmmm  B  X  R  T,"  struggling to decipher the images I assumed a trend of letters and said,  "a backwards E!  Yes, a backwards E!"

"Sir, that is a 3."

"OH! a 3!"  in the background I heard my wife groan.

Later I was informed that I am farsighted. I asked if that means I could see the future.


directions




First, I want to offer a fair warning to readers. Today, I might linger until the end of time while beating the keys of my computer. This entry might be long and wade into deep waters.

At this moment rain is cleansing the world outside my window.  Summer’s grip is failing and fall is readying for a visit.   This transition often stirs my emotions through the trigging of memories.  So during this time of year, I am often captured looking backwards through the decades.

I do not consider myself a good artist. I don’t even consider myself a competent artist.  Yet, I have the soul and spirit of an artist and I at least attempt to feebly create. Having an artistic or romantic outlook has massive benefits. Artists are generally a happy lot. However locked with the benefits of a creative spirit are many major pitfalls. One disadvantage is melancholy.  Often, melancholy is a frequent companion to people who create.  Great artists such as Van Gogh and Hemmingway struggled with the visitation of melancholy. 

We should careful with our perspective.  The past can hold powerful lures that entrap and steal gifts from the present.  If we endlessly pounder our past innocence then how can we nourish our current sense of innocence?

Melancholy, especially lingering melancholy, is often the result of a wrong outlook that builds a fortification in the past.  We need an outlook, which builds a temporary campsite in the past: a place where we visit yet not stay.

So, when we remember past friends, events, lost family, or circumstances let’s make sure that we have a proper perspective. Let’s be quick to forgive but quicker to be thankful.  Nothing of importance is really lost unless we purposely place it as lost. 

Outside of true hardships, very moment in time is wonderful with the present standing above all. Always be good to yourself. Have faith. Be friendly.  And, engage life. 

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

To do list


Yes, I have a bucket list. My long seemingly senseless list contains both the silly and serious.   The website www.43things.com is a terrific site to start and update a life list.  Here are a few items from my list.

Number 17 on my list is “climb a tree.”    Yes, my dexterity will do battle against gravity.  With luck, gravity will decide to take a working vacation the day of my climb.  Throughout my life, gravity and I have not been the greatest of friends and we are not on speaking terms.

Standing tall at number 12 is “Learn how to play the piano.”   I always have the urge to tickle the keys of pianos, which stand unguarded in hotel lobbies.  I simply need to play one song really well and never take requests.  Always leave an audience thinking that you are better, smarter, and more successfully then you actually are. Honesty is overrated.

Rebelling at number 3 is “protest for cause.”  The specific cause is unimportant yet a cause that I actually support would be preferable.  An arrest is bonus points.

At number is “imagine.’   Number18 is “create something beautiful.”  “Sending a message in a bottle” is at 26.

Number 5 is “be more spiritual.”   In my mind spirituality is synonymous with romanticism.  So, my list needs to be completed with a romantic perspective. The message in a bottle can’t be an ordinary message.  The song springing from the piano must be soaring and the tree is not for climbing but ascending

A bucket list must be done properly. 

Friday, August 12, 2011

My Grandfather




I will not admit many shortcomings but I will admit to three: the curse of the premature graying of my hair, a mild speech disorder, and a heavy dose of ADD.

Actually, my gray hair is not a curse. I started turning gray in high school. Throughout my life, my gray has been badge of individuality. My mild speech disorder is also a badge of individuality.  It only offers a major hindrance when I am talking on a phone with a stranger.  In all other instances, my stutter is humorously mild.  If I communicate smoothly with a person, the smoothness is indication that I like and trust the person and I am very comfortable with the person.

My ADD is burdensome but it bonds me with my grandfather, a man who I deeply admire. He was always getting lost in words while losing himself and things, which were attached to him.  Yet he always easily forgave himself for losing himself and he often turned his misfortune into funny effacing adventures! He never took his location disorder too seriously. 

Yes, my grandfather had many disorders. He was also sandwich challenged.  His sandwiches were always heavily leaning on the verge of falling apart, like buildings after an earthquake.  He must have known magic or used glue, because his sandwiches did not have the capacity to remain as a unit.

Maybe his use of glue is why I currently have ADD.   Now where was I? Why did I write this blog? Oh I remember: to the people who get this blog through email (the people who do not hear me stutter much….or my friends), this blog  is changing a bit. I am going to write more and use a light dusting of humor.   I will still post sketches and paintings but I will yak about things that pop into my head, which could be dangerous considering my massive intake of glue as a boy.  If you wish off the list simply email me.

Be good to you. 

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

at this time



Recently a friend asked for things, which we are thankful.  I like the question!

I am thankful for my friends and family. I am thankful for memories of my boyhood and past friends.  Yet answers to the question are really unimportant.  The importance is within our fundamental outlook.

We will always have endeavors, which harbor our gratitude. On contrast, we will always have events, which burn our senses, frustrate, and sadden. Both of these lines of perspective will always have an endless string of moments. Yet at this specific moment I choose to focus on gratitude.


Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Summer




  Summer of my youth was not hot and oppressive. I did not complain about the sun. It was a time of limitless freedom.