“ Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence.
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent."
~
Calvin Coolidge~
“ Don't surrender your individuality,
which is your greatest agent of power,
to the customs and conventionalities that have got their life from the great mass.
Do you want to be a power in the world?
Then be yourself"
And now, another unit of measurement we call a year has
passed, and with it the reflections and ruminations that are the lot of man. We ask
"what has this year given us?" Perhaps we should ask "what have we given
the world?" What have we as a people and as individuals done to help the world get
along a bit better?
We give accolades and a national hysteria over people who make films or are
sports heroes. But there are many individuals who go day to day performing heroic acts
that are largely unrecognized by the populace. The many thousands of nurses, doctors,
policemen, firemen and military personnel who perform their jobs with a general
proficiency while being castigated for any small infraction or faulty reasoning they might
fall victim to.
I know a fellow who performed a heroic action just a couple of months ago.
This tattooed and pierced Biker was driving his truck through Los Angeles when he saw an
82 year old man being accosted by a thug. He stopped to render assistance, and during the
scuffle he was stabbed nine times in the chest and abdomen. While he was falling he saw
the old man shuffling away in his walker. And as he lay in the street bleeding the thug
took his truck keys from him and started to fire the truck up to drive off. The LAPD (more
heroes) had been summoned by citizens (again more heroes), and they arrived before the
bad-guy was able to back out.
Yes, there are many heroes in this confrontation; my friend John Dabbs the hero/rescuer,
the policemen, the emergency services personnel who arrived in the ambulance and rendered
essential first aid to John, and the myriad hospital and emergency personnel who
effectively saved his life. He has one stab that got within a half inch of his heart. He
very nearly died, and will carry the scars and trauma with him for the rest of his life.
It is selfless people like these mentioned that made this a great country. We
are like this as a nation because as the westward expansion went on, each person relied on
their neighbors for defense and self-help projects in their areas. We are not a nation
that relied on the government to help us out, 'the government that governs least is the
government that governs best' is the old mantra. We had a government that was fairly near
anarchy as far as governance. It is up to the people of an area to police their
areas and ensure domestic tranquility.
There has been a letter circulating around that is
perputed to be from Ben Stein. It is about the prevalence of our society to place a high
level of importance on the various sports and film stars. Maybe we should be putting more
importance on our own actions, and those of the everyday heroes in our midst.
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Ben Stein's Evening at Morton's
Last column
As I begin to write this, I "slug" it, as we writers say,
which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is
"eonlineFINAL," and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this
column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column
so much for so long I came to believe it would never end.
It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's
change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer
attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and
definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice
visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an
elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is
not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.
Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly
important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I
deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and
reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all
look up to.
How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be
a star in today's world, if by a "star" we mean someone bright and powerful and
attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or
in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they
have Vietnamese girls do their nails.
They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real
star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm
near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead,
he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the
world.
A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of
Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him.
A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad
who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where
he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it
exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad.
The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but
the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and
their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from
terrorists.
We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The
noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in
Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are
anonymous as they live and die.
I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do
not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big
subject.
There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go
off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies
and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them
for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for
autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.
Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as
the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero.
I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my
highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could
never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin...or Martin Mull
or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as amuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as
Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.
But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son
to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it
moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents
(with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years.
I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then
entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.
This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the
firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one
that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon
me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human.
Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein
December 30, 2007
Drivin' that Train, High on Cocaine
'Casey Jones'
~Grateful Dead~
Driving that train, high on cocaine,
Casey Jones is ready, watch your speed.
Trouble ahead, trouble behind,
And you know that notion just crossed my mind.
Southern Pacific Railroad has some VERY prime real-estate. Some of
their tracks run all along the Pacific Coast through California. Some of the most
beautiful sights in California are seen from those very tracks. In fact, nearly
every beach I've visited in California, you have to cross the tracks to get to the beach.
I remember as a kid there were still a number of Hobos
around. They would ride the rails from place to place. I remember a couple of times when
my Dad would get called out to retrieve the body of a Hobo who had fallen or been thrown
from a train, and the body seen later along the tracks by another passing train. There are
still a number of people living this most dangerous way of life. I've met some of
them through the years.
You can find some really interesting Hobo stories at Hobonickels.
There is a very dangerous Hobo gang called Freight
Train Riders of America (FTRA), (not to be confused with the band FTRA). The gang called
FTRA practices killings of lone travelers, so the rail-tramps have more than the railroad
men to worry about nowadays. Some people dispute the fact that this organization exists,
but I've spoken to a few people on the road who argue it is a loosely organized factual
group. But still, I suppose for many people there is a certain allure to sitting at the
open door of a boxcar, watching the miles and scenery roll by.
I prefer my own wheels.
December 29, 2007
Back to Black
(the Heart of Amy Winehouse)
“ You got to walk a lot of miles behind a plow to write
a Country song"
~Hank Williams~
What is the nature of talent? What is it in some people that
gives them such a push over into territory most of the rest of us can just look at... like
seeing the bright lights of a far-away city over the hills? Why is it that some of
the most talented people in terms of the arts are also teetering on the steep slopes of
lucidity and sanity? When you see the heartaches some of these people throw themselves
into, you have to wonder whether it is the artists' mind that rails against conventional
wisdom, or might it just be the fact some are so easily lured by the siren-song of powders
and liquors to ease their mind during their stay on this earth.
Amy Winehouse seems to be the most recent standard for this terrible
curse/blessing that great talent seems to bestow upon so many. Her voice is a jewel
glowing in my MP3 player, but her life seems so beset by substance abuse that the world
might lose out on the great music she might produce if she cannot save her life from the
demons she so readily seems to ingest.
Yet, as the saying above seems to imply, it is the depths of darkness that
give her the temporary ability to reach deep into her soul, to bring out the sadness and
tragedy and put it lucidly onto a sheet and express it through her beautiful voice so
fully and well that the result is a painting of life, short, sweet and sad.
We can only hope that for her sake, she can pull herself together to fight
these demons that so quickly can pull her down.
Back to Black; a beautiful video that features her voice so well.
'I'm No Good'
~Amy Winehouse~
I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told ya that I was troubled
You know that I'm no good
Sweet reunion, Jamaica and Spain
We're like how we were again
I'm in the tub you're on the seat
Lick your lips as I soak my feet
Then you notice little carpet burn
My stomach drops and my guts churn
You shrug and it's the worst
To truly stuck the knife in first
I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told ya that I was troubled
You know that I'm no good
In this video, someone has merged Amy Winehouse's video 'I'm No good'
with Linda Ronstadt's 'You're No Good'. They did such a great job mixing this compilation,
it comes across really well.
In looking over videos of Amy, you can see the changes in her through just the last few
years. From a bright and eager young girl with clear skin and curves, to a tatted-out
trollop with missing/loose teeth and a seemingly wasting-away body. The perils of
hard-drug use cannot be exaggerated. Sadly, generation after generation seems to have a
certain percentage who indulge in this reckless behavior, and a certain percentage of
those will have a hard time on several levels due to substance use.
December 27, 2007
Wild Rose
A rose grows along a fence on a remote homestead.
December 25, 2007
Watercress Canyon
The rainwater slowly oozes through the layers of
clay particles in this canyon. As it moves through the rock strata it is filtered, and
picks up minerals, tending to move to an alkali pH. This makes the slowly flowing
waters of the stream a favorable spot for wild watercress which is actually one of the
most nutritious vegetables one can find. For this reason, this canyon has long been seen
as a fertile spot of great value.
However, the streams in California are havens for bacteria due to large-scale
livestock raising. Many of these parasites might well find their way onto the surface of
such an aquatic plant as watercress, and be transferred to the human system, resulting in
complications such as 'Montezuma's Revenge' and other intestinal disorders.
yeah, things ain't like they were a thousand years ago, with a crisp
clean environment... but then again, even back in 'The Olden Days', the human population
was plagued by disease and other ailments. So, maybe things aren't' so much different
after all.
December 24, 2007
Our #1 Dog, Whitey
December 23, 2007
Doe, Ray, Me
A yearling deer runs from me in the canyon.
When he got far enough away to feel safe, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at me.
December 22, 2007
Thanksgiving Refugees
Driving along the road to home, a flock of wild turkeys crossed the
road in front of me.
Interesting birds they are too.
December 21, 2007
'Time'
~Pink Floyd~
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day,
You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town,
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain,
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you,
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking,
And racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time,
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines.
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way,
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say.
Home, home again,
I like to be here when I can.
And when I come home cold and tired,
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire.
Far away across the field,
The tolling of the iron bell,
Calls the faithful to their knees,
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.
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We got between two and three inches of rain in a couple of days.
The hills seemed to absorb most of the water, and there was very little runoff.
But even though we need the water, it is in human nature to bemoan the loss of the warm
days and sunny afternoons.
Coming home, I saw a rainbow dropping right down into the canyon.
Excitedly I drove into the canyon hoping to find the legendary 'Pot of Gold'.
But drive as I may, I could not catch up to the rapidly-travelling
ephemera.
Here I caught a glimpse of it as it passed before the moon.
Knowing my truck just cannot keep up with these colorful beauties, I
took the turn-off home.
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The rainbow, and the heavy sky with billowing clouds coming at us after
so many months of blue skies and eternal sunshine put me in the mood for what has to be
some of the best music ever written, Pink Floyd and their song 'Time'.
It is a bit of a surprise to come around the bend between
the hills in this semi-desert area, and all of a sudden you see this large lake spread out
on the floor of the valley.
December 19, 2007
(Wet) Country Road
~African Proverb~
"The stone in the water
knows nothing of the hill
which lies parched in the sun"
We've gotten our first good rain of the year now.
One of the neighbors said they got some 1.5 inches of rain
by noon today. Since we've been getting some eight or ten inches a year the last couple of
years, this is a substantial amount of rain for us.
The same neighbor was telling us about a son-in-law who is from the east and
was visiting here six weeks ago when we got our first rains of the season. Since there has
been so much wildlands burnt this year, and a large rain can cause huge amounts of
erosion, the radio and TV here was talking a lot about the first rain of the year
coming...apprehension was high. And when it rained and was 1/8 of an inch, and we all
celebrated the return of rain, he thought that was quite a hoot. He'd been expecting
several inches from the hype concerning the rain.
Water is a very needed element (it's not on the Periodic Table, I know), what
we get must be conserved and maintained, used wisely, and we must leave enough for the
land and animals that need it also.
December 18, 2007
405 Van
Here's a VW van heading south on the 405 Freeway, nearing Santa Monica.
This was a most unusual morning that I took this photo, the
405 was wide open, and I got passed by a VW bus! This old bug was not looking like it was
in great shape, it is patched, loud, ran rough and had a taillight out, but still it
passed me.
It kind of reminds me of the tales my Dad tells of when he was a kid; they
would go to church on Sunday morning in the wagon pulled by the horses. After church the
congregation would meet at one of the parishioner's houses, and they would dance and eat
until late at night. Then the family would all pile into the wagon. After the
horses were headed on the way home, Grandpa would jump into the blankets with Granny and
the kids in the back, and they would all drift off to sleep rocking to the gentle movement
and sounds of the wagon. When the horses stopped, they would be at home.
Maybe this Bug is headed home!
December 15, 2007
A spectacular sunrise
We've been getting some spectacular sunrises due to the high level of
particulates in the air due to the fires this year.
Here's one from last week. What artwork, what inspiration to see the Master at work.
December 14, 2007
Dog Days of Summer
It's so fun seeing people have fun, and we can watch animals
and realize they are also enjoying themselves. Dogs like going out with their people, out
to do the things that people like in the great outdoors. Don't leave 'Mans Best Friend' at
home all the time, you are richly rewarded when you bring your buddy to a place you can
both have fun.
December 13, 2007
Shell Beach, California
Shell Beach is a pretty nice place.
It is a small community on the Central Coast, some 150 miles
north of Los Angeles. In this area, the cliffs run to the sea, and you have many small
beaches, some of which are a bit hard to get to as you must walk down narrow trails down
gullies to the beaches below. The less accessible the beaches are...the fewer people you
see. There are many times you can sit on the beach for some time and not have anyone walk
by.
Another peculiar feature of this beach in particular is the small brown
pebbles that form the bed. They are smooth round pebbles eroded from rocks and worn smooth
by the waves motion.
Here's a close-up of the pebbles. They can make walking even harder
than in sand, you tend to sink into these loose pebbles as the waves come up.
This is a view of a portion of the cliffs. In this case we
can see at the bottom, the clay-based shale rock that was laid down probably some 25
million years ago, like much of the shale in this area. After some time that shale
was raised up into that extreme angle we can see in the photo. Then the top was worn
off (probably by wave action while that area was submerged). The layer above is a thick
layer of the same pebbles we see on the beach. This was probably the beach at that time.
And above that is a layer of material that seems a clay-based soil, the upper half of that
would be considered the topsoil layer. You can see that the topsoil section is a bit
darker in color that the rest of the clay material below it.
I'd guess this material was laid down while submerged some millions of years
ago. Through the millions of years, the Earth's plates moved and pushed this land up above
the sea. Now it sits by the beach, with the waves continually eating away at the cliffs,
returning to the sea that which was taken from it millions of years ago. But while it is
being eroded, the cliff fills the beach below with this beautiful carpet of small stones,
that might someday become trapped yet again in soil held stable for millions of years and
raised high above the water for some future creature to look at and wonder about. Or,
perhaps more likely, the sea might rise, just as it has risen some 300 feet from it's low
some twelve thousand years ago when the earth was warming after the last Ice Age ( when
the Mammoths started driving SUVs and increasing their carbon footprint, and Mammoths have
big footprints). This rising sea will continue eating into the cliff, causing heartache
and monetary loss for the people who own homes on the tops of the cliffs.
My guess is that these cliffs lose some ten to twenty feet each century. If
you build a home here, you might want it fifty feet or more from the cliff, that way your
grandkids can also enjoy the view but still have a patio.
December 12, 2007
Santa Maria High School
Santa Maria is the largest town in Santa Barbara County. It's a pretty
nice town.
This town likes to use the local Spanish designs for architecture. It does make for some
nice looking buildings with a lot of color and nice architectural design elements.
A good design like this gives lots of interest to a building, even the movement of the sun
along the building, shadowing some spots while it reveals others to the light gives levels
of interest.
The contrast of colors, at once jarring and glaring can also be blended together into a
palette of colors- arranged as on canvas to form contrast and textural elements into what
would otherwise be a boring box structure, suitable only for shielding the body from the
elements, and not instead turning shelter into art.
There are many creatures that build nests, line holes dug into the sand with grasses, or
otherwise construct devious and clever living shelter... but it seems to be Man alone that
sees fit to design the utilitarian into a piece of art to live in.
December 11, 2007
Tranquility
Tao Teh Ching Chapter 64
Peace and tranquility are easy to hold onto and keep.
It is best to deal with matters before they present themselves.
What is brittle shatters easily.
What is small is easy to disperse.
Deal with troubles before they have arisen.
Establish order before disorder has reared itself.
A large tree grows from a small twig.
A terrace nine levels high starts with a clod of earth.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
If you rush into action heedlessly you will rush to your own failure.
If you try to grasp things you will lose your grip.
Therefore the sage does not try to rush to completion, and he does not grasp all about for
things.
In this way he avoids failure and losing.
Often people fail in their endeavors on the verge of completion,
this is because they exercise care at the beginning, and then slacken near the end.
Take as full care of tasks at the end as at the beginning, this will ensure proper
completion.
Therefore the sage desires nothing so much as to be free from desire.
He does not treasure things that are difficult to procure.
He learns to not know.
He practices a return to the natural origin of all things without a practice to that end.
Tranquilion Peak, in the Lompoc Valley, California.
This peak was a very important religious area for the ancient Chumash tribe, and
even to this day it functions as an important site for them. It has a small cave near the
top through which a shaft of light shines through a crack in the roof on the longest day
of the year, as such it served an important astronomical function for the tribe.
December 10, 2007
An old Surfboard
This is my old surfboard from high school. It was made about 1967 by a
shaper in Santa Barbara named John Bradbury. He eventually became a well known shaper, but
unfortunately he passed away nearly ten years ago. You can see this board had part
of the tail break off before I got it, it was repaired with some fiberglass and resin.
There are also a few small dings I (inexpertly) repaired with resin.
You can read
an interview with John's son Josh on ESPN, the interview speaks highly of John's
shaping skills.
Here's the logo he put on this board.
His logos changed through the years as you can see at Stanley's
Surfboard Logos
(a huge site with a huge number of logos on that one page alone (the 'B' page)
so expect it to take some time to get to the Bradbury section)
Here is the side view of this little beauty. The board measures 99 3/4
inches long (8 feet 3 3/4"), 19 inches wide, and three inches thick with a seven and
a half inch skeg (tail fin).
December 09, 2007
Autumn Celebration
John and Vickie at a local Fall Festival put on by a company John works
for.
No product endorsement intended here.
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Since we live back in the woods, and have mountain lions around this area, I am always on
the lookout for lion encounters. Here is one that happened recently
in Deadwood SD.
Don't think sorry's easily said
Don't try turning tables instead
You've taken lots of chances before
But I'm not gonna give anymore
Don't ask me
That's how it goes
Cause part of me knows what you're thinkin'
I am the eye in the sky
Looking at you
I can read your mind
I am the maker of rules
Dealing with fools
I can cheat you blind
And I don't need to see any more
To know that
I can read your mind, I can read your mind
I've been in a couple of 'copters, they are fun to ride in, and
marvelous machines.
We get a lot of low-and-slow-flying helicopters buzzing around these hills in the late
fall.
They tend to fly a back-and-forth grid pattern, each run a quarter mile distant from the
last.
One time we had one hovering over our greenhouse for a minute or so.
One neighbor on the hilltop saw a bunch of fellows with firearms hanging out the open
doors of these 'copters. We tend to just see the underbelly of these machines.
I'm glad that in the Land of the Free we have these fellows making sure that the fences
are up and the cows aren't running loose, 'cause I suppose that must be what they are
checking on.
When I'm out working on the hillside and they come by, I usually wave up to them, and pull
my hat off my head to show them my long hair. That's the reason the Mountain Men wore
their hair so long... they were daring the Indians to come and try to take it.
'Land of the Wanna Be Free'
~Robby Bee and the Boyz from the Rez~
You tell me,
are we really free,
the way we wanna be?
Or are we living in the land
of the Wanna be Free?
Robbie Bee and The Boyz from the Rez entertain
with a political song called 'Land of the Wanna Be Free'.
December 07, 2007
The enigma of mankind
~O'Brien to Winston~
'from G Orwell's 1984'
“But in the future there
will be no wives and no friends.” O’Brian continued.
“We shall abolish the orgasm. Our neurologists are at work upon it now.
There will be no loyalty, except loyalty towards the Party.
There will be no love, except the love of Big Brother.
There will be no laughter, except the laugh of triumph over a defeated enemy.
There will be no art, no literature, no science.
There will be no curiosity, no enjoyment of the process of life.
All competing pleasures will be destroyed.
But always — do not forget this, Winston — always there will be the intoxication
of power,
constantly increasing and constantly growing subtler.
Always, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory,
the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless.
If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face — for
ever.’
We sit in our twenty-first century comfort, and look back
upon the 'backwards' centuries behind us, before this last millennia when people crossed
seas in boats and spread 'civilization'. Yet what makes us so certain that people of this
last thousand years are the first ones to spread so far so quickly? Yes, we acknowledge
that various peoples were in the Americas for example, but we seem hesitant to believe
that others from the 'Old World' came here before Columbus. Only recently has evidence
been generally accepted that the Norse peoples spent a short time at least on the Eastern
Seaboard. But what of the scant evidence of Chinese anchors found in the waters off the
Oregonian and Californian coasts? What of the Japanese style pottery found in ancient
gravesites in Peru? There are also carved-stone heads in the Mississippi valley that have
distinctly African features found in old burials. And some evidence suggests an overseas
trade route between Europe and the Americas during the time of the Romans.
Now, a map
has come into the light; pulled from the dark recesses of a castle in Europe where it has
been hidden from view for centuries. This map seems to indicate that European
cartographers had a fairly good idea of the shape of the South American continent in 1507,
a good thirteen years before Magellan crossed under Tierra Del Fuego. Could it be that
these people were working under a set of information they had compiled over centuries of
exploration?
The arguments against this are many, yet it seems to me that political
considerations have always trumped reality and truth. In fact, politics creates it's
own reality, such as is evidenced by modern PC being the new 'Newspeak' of the late
twentieth century, having evolved from it's fictional start in Orwell's novel, 1984.
At any rate, science and research tends to bow before the boots of authority,
and power trumps knowledge century after century.
Speaking of human movement over the earth, what about
accents? Linguist.org has a great article on accents,
and the way they change over time as populations reform, consolidate and evolve.
It all comes down to realizing that humans are a most
energetic species, and our societies change and evolve. Hopefully, overall, we will
continue to evolve in an upward direction, and not devolve into an anarchic, archaic
society.
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Today is the sixty-sixth anniversary of the attack on
Pearl Harbor. Last year an old friend of mine, who was in the second World War, sent me
some photos that he says were found in an old Browning camera in a footlocker. Undeveloped
for some sixty years, the photos were a bit of a surprise when they were brought to light
and exposed before the world.
We have all seen many photos of that terrible day that brought us into
W.W.II, but to see these images in a new light is a bit remarkable.
I have found those photos on the net, they are intriguing, shocking, terrible, and
they do need to be seen.
December 06, 2007
Nipomo California
At the foot of the Hills
Yep, this is the north end of our town. Yeah, it's a bit quiet, but we
like it that way.
Nipomo is a
quaint town, very rural, slow in a lot of ways. Our high school just opened a few years
ago, before that the kids had to be bussed to the next town over, to Arroyo
Grande.
Things change through the years, and Nipomo has grown by leaps and bounds.
There have been growing pains also; gangs have caused a bit of violence in town, and we
also have a bit of traffic congestion. The Post Office moved to the other side of the
freeway some eight years ago, before that, we really never crossed the freeway, now to
check our mail we have to get caught up in the traffic of downtown Nipomo.
De Mille filmed his epic film The Ten Commandments outside town in the dunes. I know a couple
of people who's parents were extras in that film, and a couple who's grandfathers worked
on building the set. It is a relic of a bygone era, and sadly most of the set was just
pushed over into the sand, it is now being excavated as an archaeological dig for it's
film history and significance. Dorothea
Lange took a picture of a woman in Nipomo that became emblematic of the depression,
the image titled 'Migrant Mother' has been seen by millions. That photo was taken in a
field that I pass nearly daily.
Nipomo is a good town, with mostly good people, and we're happy to be part of
the community here.
December 05, 2007
Dedication, heroism, commitment, heart
Sea, Air, Land
I was told this sign was posted onto the door of a wounded
Navy Seal member, while he is recuperating from his wounds suffered while in combat.
I've known a couple Navy SEALs, and I think they'd not mind me saying that
SEALs are not like other people. They are part Chuck Norris, part George Washington. They
are a highly trained and highly skilled and exceedingly small group of extraordinary
people, and my support goes to all who try to enter into such hallowed ranks. Of all who
try for such goals, a very, very select few will ever attain the high degree of commitment
and skill and mental tenacity needed for the job.
The mind is the greatest barrier to excellence for most people. Most people
do not have what it takes to push themselves to the almost super-human degree needed to
become a SEAL.
This young man has what it takes to make this country great, we wish him the
best in his recuperation, and the rest of his life...may it be long and grand. God Bless
ya' Dude.
December 04, 2007
Memories of summer past
Momma always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun...
but Momma, that's where the fun is...
~Bruce Springsteen~
'Blinded by the light'
Madman drummers bummers,
Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat
In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat
With a boulder on my shoulder, feelin' kinda older,
I tripped the merry-go-round
With this very unpleasin', sneezin' and wheezin,
the calliope crashed to the ground
Every season has it's delightful aspects. I like winter with
it's cool weather and rain that gives the land time to regenerate and rest. But I suppose
nothing really beats a warm summer afternoon at the beach. Here's a photo I took this last
summer of people walking their dogs on a Santa Barbara beach.
Summer will come again, but we'll have to wait until next summer.
But when in a nostalgic mood, looking over frosty hills on a
bleak winter's day, what better memories of summers past than the funky sound of Manfred
Mann's Earth Band and their great classic song 'Blinded by the light'.
Some silicone sister with a manager mister told me I go what it
takes
She said "I'll turn you on sonny to something strong,
play the song with the funky break"
And go-cart Mozart was checkin' out the weather chart to see if it was safe outside
And little Early-Pearly came by in his curly-wurly and asked me if I needed a ride
Asked me if I needed a ride
But she was...
Blinded by the light,
revved up like a deuce,
another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
She got down but she never got tired
She's gonna make it through the night
Now, Bruce 'The Boss' wrote the lyrics to 'Blinded by the light', and
although he recorded it, it never made a hit. A few years later Manfred Mann's Earth Band
took up the lyrics and added a lot of rock sound to it (and great keyboard), and made a
monster hit.
December 03, 2007
A country road in the morning, the sea-mist rolling in from the Pacific, to blanket the
coastal plains with a moist cool shroud, that will dissipate with the strengthening sun.
The other end of the same road in the afternoon.
The main trees in this photo are the Coastal Live Oaks, but you can also see a line of
Sycamores running down one hill. This shows a spring active in that local, and the water
runs down the creek with the water-loving Sycamores sucking up all they can.
Using know-how like this is how people in wilderness survival situations stay alive.
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Researchers are looking at
old paintings to see the sunsets and sunrises portrayed thereon. This might help them
analyze old weather patterns, especially volcanic pollution put into the atmosphere.
December 02, 2007
Ten Things You'll Never Hear a Redneck Say:
10. You can't feed that to the dog.
9. Honey, did you mail that donation to Greenpeace?
8. We're vegetarians.
7. We don't keep firearms in this house.
6. Honey, we don't need another dog.
5. Too many deer heads detract from the decor.
4. Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.
3. Duct tape won't fix that.
2. I'll take Shakespeare for 1000, Alex.
And, Number ONE is:
1. The tires on that truck are too big.
Driving in Santa Maria I saw this nice looking truck. Now, this is my kinda' ride.
An' yes, if'n ya ax me, the tahrs on that truck make it all the bedder.
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Whether you are concerned with global warming,
or whether it is economic reasons, it makes good sense to conserve....
A recent study shows that simple measures to curb energy use
would reduce the total amount of energy required, reduce our nation's 'carbon footprint',
and save money in the long run.
I've always thought that the core of 'conservative thinking' is the root word, 'conserve'.
For both the frontiers families of old, and rural families now, to be able to
hold onto what you have, and make that oil or propane last a bit longer before the man
comes to fill the tank again, it just makes sense to conserve.
The New York Times has an excellent article on this.
December 01, 2007
Sunset, Lompoc California.
A positive mental attitude brings with it faith, enthusiasm,
personal initiative, self-discipline, imagination and definiteness
of purpose, which attract people and beneficial opportunities.
A negative mental attitude carries with it fear, indecision, doubt,
procrastination, irritability and anger, which repel people and
drive away favorable opportunities.
Knowledge is the only instrument of production that is not subject
to diminishing returns.
~David Brannon~
Lompoc has become well known for space launches, flower fields, and more
recently, for it's many fine varietals of wine grown in the area.
The Lompoc area is also well known for it's natural beauty. It's a nice little town.
The hoods are up on Pine Street,
rear ends lifted too
The great-grandsons of General Robert E. Lee
are making love with a little help from STP
Their women on the porches comparing alibis
Greasy eggs and bacon,
bumper stickers aimed to start a fight,
full gun racks, Confederate caps,
if you want some 'shine
well, you can always find some more,
but what I remember most is the colour of Suzy's door
And Suzy says she's up there
cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing me
so I'm missing Oregon Hill
A river to the south
to wash away all sins
A college to the east of us
to learn where sin begins
A graveyard to the west of it all
which I may soon be lying in
'Cause to the north there is a prison
which I've come to call my home,
but some Monday morning no country song
will sing me home again
And Suzy says she's up there
cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing me
so I'm missing Oregon Hill
Sunday morning, eight A.M.,
sirens fill the air
Sounds like someone made the river
Sounds like someone being born again
Me, I'm just lying here in Suzy's bed
Baptists celebratin' with praises to the Lord,
Rednecks doin' it with gin
Me and Suzy, we're celebratin'
the joy of sleeping in
because tomorrow I'll be home again
But Suzy says she'll wait there
cutting carrots by the window sill
And Suzy says, 'Always think of me
when you think of Oregon Hill'
My town, Lompoc,
the place where I (mostly) grew up has so many of the things mentioned in the song above,
a prison,
a college,
a river, Pine street, Baptists and Rednecks. I thought of this as I walked around the old section of town
yesterday while getting new tires put on the truck. The old town is full of little tiny
houses tightly packed together, each with a small separate garage, all made of wood.
Intricate and lush gardens are in the yards of most of these houses, and as I walked, the
scent of sweet peas came to me. As I strolled past an old woman digging grasses out of the
sidewalk cracks with an asparagus knife; a cigarette dangling from her mouth I thought of
the old adage "you can never go back". And yes, although I like the walk, and
the looks of the town, I much prefer our canyon with it's wilderness enfolding us.
I walked into the shop of some old friends I have not seen for a
couple of decades, they were the glue that held our little 'Sheriff's Search and Rescue'
team together. I was a member for a short time, and went with them on some rescues and
recoveries. We talked of old times, walks in the woods, and her work with the 'Hug-a-Tree Foundation',
that teaches children lost in the woods to hug a tree and sit and wait to be rescued.
The town is full of the rich tapestry of life; I walked past
Florio's Carneceria, the Mexican meat market, decorated with a huge Mexican flag. I had an
uncle Florian who died some years ago, he was a special uncle to me, big and strong, a
woodsman who lived for a time in a log cabin he built himself in the woods. He'd worked
for years in the Canadian woods, and had a build like Jack La Lane back in the old days.
I continued my walk past the VIVA House, the 'Volunteers
for Inter-Valley Animals' has a 'Sylvester House', built to accommodate the cats that are
abandoned. Many are the women who donate time and money to the cause of local animals. I
think you can tell a lot about the values of a people by the way they treat the lowest of
themselves, including their animals. In this and so many other respects I have to give
Lompoc very high marks indeed.
As I was leaving VIVA a Sheriff drove by slowly, he spent a long
time at the stop sign, watching me through his mirrors. To him I am a stranger in this
town, regardless of how many times I have walked and driven these streets. He slowly drove
away, while I walked on, content in the sights, smells and memories a little trip down
'Memory Lane' gave me.
God bless the small towns, and the people who live in them.
