Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Growing Up Again

There is that which you come to know only after forgetting all that you thought you knew.

J. Philip Thomas
************************
Hello Bruce
***********************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
There's a mid day in the night.
--------------------------
I have a friend who is fast approaching her 50th birthday. I don't know why that is such an austere idea. It is just another day, another year. Why does the number 50 take on such weight in people's minds? Is it because when people reach the age of 50 they must stop considering themselves young? That's nonsense. That's one of the things I found out when the big 50 happened to me. At about that time I met a friend on the street in New York. She was a young woman with whom I had worked. When she learned I was turning 50 she said that I wasn't old and that in fact she was engaged to marry a man about the same age as me. She said she likes older men. That made my day.

Here's another thing I learned. I learned that the only thing I really knew was that I really didn't know very much. All through the first 40 years or so I was sure that by the age of 50 I would know the important things of life. But I found myself still bearing an often juvenile sense of myself and others. I thought "Here I've lived half a century where is all this wisdom I'm supposed to have?" That's when I began to start, to attempt, to hope, to try to get educated. It's been a slow but interesting process since then, and it's still going on.

Another thing I learned, setting aside the arrogance of the young which I will reserve for a different discussion, was that other men and women approximately my age were probably no smarter than I was. And that certainly proved to be true on many levels. The older people who had intimidated me while growing up really did not deserve my awe and fearfulness, which made me think back upon many of the teachers I had.

From the age of 50 on I also began to listen to other people instead of just listening to myself. In other words, I began to develop a higher sense of social contact. I grew less judgmental and more open to the ideas of people I would normally have argued with. I learned that it doesn't make any sense to be an absolutist about anything. as far as human life and experience is concerned.

I then also began to learn a lot about myself. "Know thyself." Knowing thyself is a difficult scholarship. It requires some fact facing and some face facing. To trade in middle age for senior citizenship may seem at first thought to be a frightening prospect, but if successfully done there is a crown to win and wear. Those who wear the crown are more valuable to themselves and the world than those who haven't won it yet.

Now I look forward in a couple of years to the next mountain ledge to wave my flag from. Another day, another year, another birthday. My 75th. And I look forward with joy and anticipation to all the things I will know then that I don't know now.

So to my friend who is about to turn 50 I say "Welcome to a wider world."

DB - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
*********************

Monday, July 30, 2012

The Great Way

Greatness is a road leading towards the unknown.

Charles deGaulle
**********************
Hello Linda
**********************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
The night is hard to see.
---------------------------------"
The bear went over the mountain to see what he could see."

Those who are given the opportunity and freedom to follow a line of study as far as it can take them are blessed with the possibility of discovering areas of unrevealed knowledge and understanding, places no one has ever encountered before, where no one has ever been. Mathematicians, astronomers, physicists, those practicing on the esoteric edges of science, anthropologists, architects, composers of music and, yes, also poets, when engaged to their utmost, may reach the end of the traveled path, step into an unknown territory of discovery, put down a marker for the future and try to describe what they find.

I don't know much about science, but I know something about art. Every time I see "The Piano Lesson" by Matisse I am taken gently by the hand and led into a world of painting I know next to nothing about. That is even more true of Van Gogh's "Starry Night."

I have heard Beethoven's "Grosse Fugue" for string quartet many times and it is still a mystery. What was it that Beethoven saw in his deafness and what was he trying to tell us about it? In what far off land was Schoenberg when he composed "Verklarte Nacht"?

On what obscure mountain top was Shakespeare when he wrote "The mightiest space in fortune nature brings to join like likes and kiss like native things."? And what was he saying when he wrote to lead us there "Impossible be strange attempts to those who weight their pains in sense and do suppose what hath been cannot be." ?

Do not make the mistake of thinking that life hasn't equipped you with the right and obligation to venture into your own sacred areas of discovery. There is no way of knowing how far the path leads or how important it will be to others of what you find there. But it's your adventure to have and it's your discovery to make, and if you don't make it who will?

The air is thin and hard to breathe, the way is treacherous and the terrain frustratingly difficult to describe but though we may be standing on the shoulders of the great ones who went before us the experience of our own genius can only be won by moving off of the shoulders and placing a foot carefully but steadily down onto a step we cannot see.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Guidance

How could I bear to be human if humans were not also writers and riddle solvers and redeemers of chance.

Friedrich Nietzsche
**********************
Hello Ernie

Hello Jubail
Hello Doha
Hello Ile-de-France
Hello Istanbul
Hello Herdon
Hello Kalamazoo
Hello Rochester
(Just a few of the 13 who aren't watching the Olympics all the time and took the trouble to check in with the Vagabond.)
****************************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
Who's watching the day?
*******************************
I enjoy the Olympic sports, but I'm most interested in the track and field events. The first Olympic mete back in ancient Greece was a 200 meter foot race. These days runners compete in the 100 meter and 500 meter races and longer. 200 meter races are rarely held. But years ago the Olympic committee was trying to decide what events they could cut out since the number of them was getting very large. Someone suggested eliminating the 200 meter since it wasn't a popular distance. Then they realized it was the original race, so they kept it.

One of the most important things that the world's citizens need to do if we are to survive is to take better care of our young people.

When I was in high school I was lazy about sports. I never played football, I was no good at baseball because of myopia, so I played basketball which I really didn't like. Then one year the school offered track and field. I ran around the track a few times. I strained my arm trying to throw the javelin. I didn't have enough beef on me to put the shot. I was basically flunking out of Phys Ed. But then the sky opened up, angels came down and twirled around my head and the heavenly trumpets blared. I discovered the discus.

The first time a flung it people stopped and looked. With a little advice from the coach I was soon a competing discus thrower and I was a winner.

So then I went off to college as a music major with a meager $200 scholarship based on a song I had written. I was a poor student because I had to work. I had an all night job in law enforcement, a week end job as a janitor and some hours during the week in the library. I had a faculty adviser who was so absent minded he couldn't remember what college his sone was in. This circumstance lasted for a year and a half until I realized I was in the wrong school and the financial burden was destroying any possible joy at being there. So I quit and began my vagabond life. At about the same time producers started hiring me as an actor and that became my career, all hope of being a musician faded.

The reason for this autobiography is that years later, by accident, I discovered that there are excellent universities in this country that offer full scholarships to discus throwers. I was good enough. I would have qualified.

If I had known that such a thing was even possible I would have gone looking for it. But I had no guidance, from anyone. It's one of the major regrets of my life. But I don't think about it much. I don't regret my life as an entertainer. It has been an adventurous, exciting, satisfying and fulfilling career. But I rue that I didn't learn music at the time.

By all means ask young people what they think and what they want. And respect their wisdom to the extent they have any. Offer your suggestions and advice whether they take it or not. The positive things you do for young people will have a far reaching effect for all of us the world over. The negative things you do, or the things you don't do, may have the opposite effect.

I'm an educated man even with no college degree. I've taught myself a lot of things. I read history, philosophy, psychology and religion. Now I'm also a writer and a painter, and I'm learning music in between times. I wish I had some sort of a musical instrument. My ideal home, when I get there, will have a piano.

DB - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
******************

Saturday, July 28, 2012

It's Today

Through remaining in the present, we can let go of the past and the future - the headquarters of our fears.

Lama tsony
******************
Hello Frosty
******************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
It's night now, or it's day, or it's both.
---------------------------------
I enjoy reading history. History is about events. But even more history is about people, people make the events happen. If you read enough history you get the accurate impression that the human race has been at war with itself ever since the first cave man picked up a rock and threw it at someone.

You've heard the axiom "history repeats itself" and you've probably also heard that if people aren't aware of history they are in danger of repeating it. Well they apparently repeat it anyway even if they are aware. It's that repetition of events that makes history interesting to me. It means that history for me is not a linear study.

Read a newspaper, if you can find a newspaper in this E age, and you will find that all the things that have ever gone on are going on right now. The past is just the present with dust on it. And that leads me into considering the present as the only reality, which it is.

Why should we fear the past? Or why should we fear because there is a past? Most of it is a bucket of ashes and what remains should be laughed at. You made some events happen, some of them were successful and some were failures, and that about sums it up. Did you learn something from your mistakes. Good. Then that's what the past is for. Now forget it.

Why should we fear the future, or fear because there is a future? As someone said, the future is much like the present only longer. By an amazing bit of alchemy the present turns into the past just as fast as it turns into the future. And that's what makes the present, today, this hour, so important. If you do it wrong you may have a regret or two, something else to put into the bucket of ashes. But what ever you do, whatever event you make happen, it will define your future. You're making history. And once done it's best to let go of it. When you throw the rock you don't run after it to make sure it hits the target. It hits or it misses. Get on with life.

Another important thing about the present is that you can't measure it the way you can measure the past or plan the future. That's what makes it so vital. It is the only real time there is. Think of the time you've wasted going over the past in your head, your memories and your regrets. or planning or fretting about the future, while all the while this minute is waiting patiently to be turned into thought, feeling and action.

I don't "believe in yesterday." I don't believe "life is what you do while your waiting to die." Scripture says "Now is the day of salvation." Whatever "salvation" means to you, it's right in front of you.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
****************************

Friday, July 27, 2012

Through The Veil

Things that do not change and cannot change are invisible, unintelligible; we are surrounded by them.

Bate
**************
Hello Val
*****************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
When is it night and when is it not night?
-----------------------------------------------
I won't deny that it takes a lot of courage to look within the veil. That's why only the high priests were allowed to do it. Because they were prepared for the exposure they would witness, the expression of the unknown, the complete truth in it's own language.

The spirit world is not a world of ghosts and supernatural events. It isn't filled with strange apparitions and unexpected flashes of light and mysterious sounds. If those things can be perceived they are not from spirit. Our human senses may only perceive things that change, even as something as stagnant as a rock. The intermolecular activity that happens, growth and decay, enables us to see it. There is a school of thought that claims every extant thing is really a set of vibrations and our senses sinterpret those vibrations into things, as in the case of sound. Others say that if a thing cannot be observed by the senses or by complicated listening and measuring devices it doesn't exist. That theory is fine if one believes that the human senses are all there is to acquiring knowledge.

But the high priest was prepared to witness more than his senses cold tell him. He was prepared to enter into the most holy place, known as he Shekinah, where there was brilliant light and the appearance of the unchanging reality of existence. To those outside it resembled a thick, frightening, impenetrable cloud. Superstition called it a great, specific influx of spirituality or God visiting the Earth.

How could one possibly develop a sense that can see beyond the veil and into the cloud? I think the first step would be to acknowledge that there is such a sense and it is available to man. The next step might be to affirm that the ordinary human senses can't tell us the whole story and should be excluded from the search. Then time and effort must be spent training ourselves to look and listen without those senses, to engage the mind in a pure preparation for gaining the wisdom and the desire, the definite ardent, urgent need to be led to the door of enlightenment.

Are there high priests today who can enter that Shekinah? Perhaps there are. I think so. But we would most likely be looking for them on a mountain top or in a monetary somewhere. Whereas they probably walk among us.

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
**************************

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

There Is More

The unseen world hath become seen; the unreal hath become the real.

John Newbrough
**********************
Hello Lily
**********************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
Blessings are awaiting in the dark.
********************************
Something I like to make note of now and then is the fact that all the physical laws that allow us today to have TV, airplanes, computers and space ships have always been there. We didn't invent the laws. Scientists with vision and imagination are hang glided over the cliffs of new wisdom that is just about to reveal itself, old laws coming into consciousness. It is also true of artists with comparable courage and imagination.

Scientists and artists build on revealed knowledge and proven principles to discover new ways of doing things and in the process new principles, new laws. And yet, since they are discoverable, they are not new at all. They have always been there. The motto of the experimental adventurous thinker is "There is more."

It is recorded that the ancient Hebrew prophets spoke one on one with a voice which they called the "word of God." There was a voice, no doubt, but what was it and where did it come from and how could those prophets be so clear of mind that they actually heard it? Socrates spoke of hearing such a voice, so have many others. Even today it isn't unusual to have the answer to a problem come into your head like a silent voice. It has certainly happened to me, many times. I've come to expect it. I was hiking one day in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It was a long trail over a mountain range I had never been on before. As I was descending from one of the summits I heard a quiet voice right next to me as clear as if someone was standing there. In fact I looked to the side expecting to see someone. But I was alone. The voice said "You're off the trail." I looked down and saw that, in fact, I was not on the trail. Losing the trail can be dangerous if you aren't an experienced hiker as I wasn't. I looked back up and saw a place where I knew I had been on the trail and hiked back up to it. When I got there I saw the trail took a sharp turn which I had missed.

It can also happen with a vision. Sitting quietly with your eyes closed you may see a sight that tells you what you need to know. For some people that vision can come with eyes open.

Some people go through many ways of trying to get in touch with those voices and visions. They draw circles on the ground, read tea leaves, stare into crystal balls or sit and wait over a Ouija board, for example. They are trying to hear the voice or see the sight. These days there are people doing terrible things because they say God told them to. That's a sad state of delusion. At worst it was the devil, or their conscious or unconscious belief in the devil, that spoke. The devil is very clever at masquerading as God. But the best trick the devil pulls is getting people to believe he's real.

The most important thing is to realize that the laws of being are all still there and have always been there waiting to be discovered. And they will be discovered and put to use by those who watch and listen, who know that it isn't over yet, who say "There is more."

"Impossible be strange attempts to those who weigh their pains in sense," wrote Shakespeare. We can look forward to the unseen becoming seen and the unreal becoming real.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
*************************

A Journey Through Thoght

To be aware of that of which we are ignorant is dwelling with shadows. But to be unaware of that of which we are ignorant is deep darkness indeed.

Dana Bate
******************************
Hello to the person in Ile-de-France, Paris
*******************************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
Sometimes darkness comes at noon,
and sometimes the light shines at midnight.
---------------------------------------------
This is the 1,825 edition of Vagabond Journeys. When I first began this journal I posted quotes from the wise and witty, without comments. But when people started to comment I decided to add a few thoughts of my own.

I have 112 pages of quotes, single spaced, small font, about 30 to 35 per page. They come mainly from my reading, books, magazines and newspapers, some come from other journalists and some are my own, (as in above). As I look back over them I realize that back in 2006 when I first started collecting these quotes, I thought some ideas were very clever and worth a lot of thought which I now regard as simple statements of fact that need no embellishment, such as "Worrying makes you cross the bridge before you come to it." (Harvey Mackey) A self-evidently apt analogy that needs no explanation or comment, I will gladly place it within the body of a journal entry one day to add some zest.

I try to avoid polemics, although the temptation to plunge in is great. But I find that the best political quotes are the humorous ones, like this one from Howard Zinn "If the gods had intended for people to vote, they would have given us candidates."

There are quotes that stroke my poetic self, and I enjoy learning from them. "I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame." (Yeats)

There are the esoteric and mystic authors that intrigue me and give me much to say. "I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming of being a man?" (Zhuangzi)

I, at last, have become ready to take on the big thinkers, like Friedrich Nietzsche, "Blessedness is not a promise, it has no strings attached; it is the ONLY reality - everything else is just a symbol used to speak about it."

The lesson for me from the past 6 years is that grappling with the thoughts of some of these thinkers has evolved my own thinking process, cleared some questions, placed larger and rangier issues on the table for me, made me more aware of that of which I am ignorant and doused me in a baptism of learning. Now I do what I hope everyone does or will do. I look for the light that shines at midnight.

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
******************************

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Fight The Dragon

What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us.

Emerson
*******************
Hello Margie
*******************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
The night is a better night than iast night, and so is the day.
*************************
There's an old saying "Time is money." You've probably heard that. Well, with clenched fist shaking my rage at the heavens, I gave my self more time and hence more money. I found six days and $48. How did I do that? It's a secret. How can one add six days to his life and translate that into $48? I told you, it's a secret. and a mystery But it means that I will have enough food to get me to the first of August when mine next income cometh in. The secret is that one must evangelize oneself. Get it?

My nasty neighborhood hasn't changed. Yesterday about noon my two immediate neighbors got into a terrible fight out the door, down the steps and all around the parking lot. They were both yelling. He was grabbing her and she was pushing him away. Two police cars came. She got in her car in a fury and drove away. Then she came back. Then the two of them got in the car and drove away. Now both of them are back. It might make an interesting story if I knew what they were fighting about.

What is worth fighting about? Survival. Refusing to give up, refusing to be stagnant, refusing to be minimized, underestimated and disrespected. It is worth fighting for rights, for righteousness and goodness. It is worth fighting for health, happiness and self respect.

Now, you take my neighbor. Please. Take him away from here. He's strong enough to subdue his woman and order around the little girl who lives with them. But he can't control his temper or his mouth. He's a weakling.

The sternest, most difficult enemy we ever have to face is the one inside us. That subtle, conniving, devious creature knows more about us than any other enemy and it knows where our vulnerable points are, our "erroneous zones." But that enemy is also the dragon at the mouth of the cave that holds the great treasures of our lives. Bring the dragon to the mat and the treasures are ours. In the cave we find our knowledge, our genius, our enlightenment. We have won the fight with ourselves and the reward is the golden crown of freedom. That's a fight worth having.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
*************************

Monday, July 23, 2012

With Clenched Fist

Though hosts encamp around me
Firm in the fight I stand.

James Montgomery
********************
Hello Marty
********************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
The night is bad, and so is the day.
*********************************
Never give up. This, evidently, is turning out to be one the bleakest years of my life. Not too long ago I was driving the highways of the northeast. I was riding the subways of New York. Now, there is nothing close to me, I walk with halting steps. But I walk the walk of a good man. Never give up.

Not too long ago I was treading the stages of eastern America. Or I was on the air at a major New York radio station, entertaining people, many people. Now I rarely see any one. No one around here knows what I've done, or cares. But I will again have close friends who know my work who respect me and whom I respect. Never give up.

On February First I found out I was living right next to a dope dealer, and that my only friend in this town was sneaking into his apartment for drugs and being dishonest and deceptive with me about it. So I moved to get away from both of them. I had to wait 20 days with all of that going on. But I finally did it. Never give up.

It cost me a whole month's income to move. I'm still getting out from under debts. The cost of moving put me in a financial dump from which I haven't recovered. There will come a day, a month, a year of solvency. Never give up.

Then I found that I moved into an apartment that is even closer to the drugs and that the false friend whom I moved to get away from now is a regular visitor next door which causes me a lot of distress. Now I yearn with all my heart for a home where I can at last have peace, comfort, safety, beauty and nice people around me. Never give up.

My neighbors also have screaming fights with each other beginning in the morning and continuing all day. Their language is foul and they have a little girl with them at the time. Sometime they scream at her. I feel sorry for that little girl. I feel sorry for myself. I long to be with people who are kind, gentle, good to each other and who know how to treat children. Never give up.

My neighborhood is a nasty one for other reasons. It's enough to say I am not happy, comfortable or at peace here. One has to know and hold continually in thought that good is stronger than evil and it will win. NGU

I would like to do more paintings but I have run out of some important colors. I will soon run out of ink for my printer. Now, it's certain that I will run out of coffee and food before this month is over.. I have no more money. My next income isn't until August 1st. I stand with a clenched fist and shake it at the heavens, at the destiny that has brought me to this misery and I utter the shout that I once gave to a particularly bad New England Winter when my car wouldn't start and the snow was relentless:

"Some day I'm going to beat you , you son of a bitch."

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*******************************

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Noble Soul

Reflect upon your aspirations, O noble one. No matter what your station be, keep searching.

Rumi
************************ .
Hello Jon
***********************
Watchman, tell us of the night.
Tonight it's in the tropics
************************
My friend Marty is on vacation. He spends his days sitting in the sun, smoking his cigarettes, drinking his vodka, staring at the palm trees and the pelicans. He's in the Caribbean.

Normally Marty lives in Brooklyn. He's a basic New Yorker as I am.. Concrete brains and asphalt nerves. That's one reason why we're friends.

The rest of the year Marty works. He's a word processor and he's one of the best in the business. But that's not what he really is. He's really a musician. And that's another reason why we're friends. He plays keyboard: rock, jazz and classical.

Some day Marty will retire from his job, probably move to the Caribbean and play music because he carries music in his noble soul wherever he goes.

His saga is about facing necessities, grounding himself in the things and people that matter and searching for the answers that quell the questions. His is the grand search. It's the search for meaning. It's an active search done through accomplishment and force of character.

His is a vigorous search. While my search is mainly intellectual, with my nose in a book, Marty will be gathering adventures like a collector. We are very different in our approach to life. And that's another reason why we're friends.

But if I ever scrape the money together to buy a clarinet and learn how to play it, I may join him in the Caribbean, stare at the palm trees and pelicans and make music.

DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
************************

Saturday, July 21, 2012

The Slinky Life

Look forward.

Bate
***********
Hello Jen
***********
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
Another night comes, but so does another morning.
----------------------------------------------
Some people think of life as a continuous circle, night and day, Summer and Winter, diastole and systole. But I think of life as a spiral, an ever changing event that seems to repeat itself but doesn't, an eternal Slinky, if you will.

Don't look back. The past is over, it's history, it's written or it isn't. Most of it is a bucket of ashes and it probably wasn't the way your remember it anyhow. Look ahead. Today isn't yesterday and tomorrow won't be today. Every day, every moment is an opportunity for discovery to an alert and expectant mind. As you walk along the beach yu may see a colorful pebble no one else noticed or you may catch a glimpse through the trees of a castle in the distance.

For the writer there ere picturesque phrases that seem to come from nowhere or a sudden line of words like pearls on a string that most adequately describe something. For the painter it's what happens to the brush to bring alive a certain crucial place on the canvas. For the cook it can be a sudden gust of an idea to improve a recipe. Because the human race is such a multitude of diverse people there is no way to limit or measure the number of discoveries that can be made by a progressive consciousness.

Life goes in a spiral whether we want it to or not so it is best to be prepared. If you want to sit back and just let things repeat themselves you may end up in a whirlpool. But if you launch a new day everyday, with a sense of adventure, you may find yourself in orbit.

Another thing about the spiraling life is that the seed you plant in one loop will start to blossom in another because it has traveled along the same spiral you have. It's the same with plans, hopes and ideas, they need to make the journey also.

One moment of life turns into the next, but it doesn't turn into the last.

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never give up.
*************************

Friday, July 20, 2012

The Vagabond

Writing and posting Vagabond Journeys is mostly an expression of my love. So I guess I'll keep doing it, I hope I haven't lost you all.
DB

Enjoy The Ride

I do not believe in right angled turning points.

Timothy West
******************
Hello Bruce
******************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
"Whadya wanna know?"
-------------------------------------
There is no such thing as an "about face." The face must make a 180 degree turn to get to the opposite side. One can't go from wrong to right, or from evil to good or from fat to slender in an instant. There is always a transition curve.

I used to conduct a seminar in public speaking and one of the things I told the participants was that if you were trying to sell a commodity or an idea to a roomful of people you will probably be facing three types of listeners: those who agree with you, those who disagree with you and those who aren't sure. A good public speaker, while entertaining those who agree with him, will be convincing those who aren't sure and turning those who disagree into to those who aren't sure.

We are so much in rapture over the instantaneous these days. We want everything NOW: instant communication with far off places on the Internet, Instant Messaging. instant breakfast. But imagine trying to instantly learn a foreign language or to play a trombone.

I remember a conversation I had with a young fellow who had just purchased a guitar and was immediately trying to sound like his favorite guitarist. I suggested that he buy a book of guitar fingering and exercises and really learn how to play the instrument, maybe even study with a teacher. He had no interest in that. He wanted to be a rock star, instantly.

A few days later I happened to read in the New York Daily News an interview with one of the leading rock musicians of the day in which he told about the hours he spent with scales and finger exercises, learning all the mysteries of the guitar. I sent the interview off to my young friend.

"There is more to life than increasing its speed," wrote Gandhi. Indeed during that 180 degree turn there are mysteries to behold and much of life to be enjoyed. You may wish to go from north to east in a flash, but don't miss north north east, north east, east north east, and so on. Life has curves. Enjoy the ride.

DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
********************

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Burn Down The Library

God forbid that any book should be banned. The practice is as indefensible as infanticide.

Rebecca West.
******************
Hello Bruce
******************
"Watchman, tell us of the night."
Everything I write is a plea for redemption.
I hope they ban my books.
------------------------------------
You don't have to write "The Tropic of Capricorn" or "Lady Chatterley's Lover" to have your book banned. No matter what you write you will offend someone. And if that someone gets together with other someones who then have your book ripped from library shelves in a fit of self righteous rage you will know you have written an important book.

An idiot in the South can burn a copy of the Koran but, other than seriously insulting a lot of people, it will have no effect whatever on centuries of profound Islamic religious thought.

Elsewhere some concerned do-gooders are working to have removed from the schools any literature which discusses the Theory of Evolution for fear that some impressionable youth might get the idea that God didn't create Adam and Eve. (He didn't, by the way. It's a myth.)

The pendulum of learning tends to swing too far in both directions. I have, and you have too, met youngsters that step into young adulthood with some preconceived notion about the realities of life, preconceived because taught by some system or authority figure who was, in turn, unable to factor into his or her thinking the uncertainties and vagaries of reality. That's why West likens it to infanticide. Why raise a child with simple formulas for living while hiding the more complicated issues if they happen to occur? Or why convince a child of the truth or untruth of things unproven simply because of beliefs? Why not just keep the kid locked up, as some perverted parents have done.

Then when the young person finally gets to confront the world out there as it really is, with opposing and conflicting ideas and practices, a period of rejection clicks in and that person may go too far in the other direction and adopt some ism or ology just as confining as the one they left behind. How long the straightening out process takes depends upon the strength of character of the person involved and how extreme the teaching has been. The search for truth has been going on for centuries and it's still going on but it can't be aided by building a brick wall of ignorance in front of books someone doesn't like.

In spite of the heroics they claim for themselves book banners are cowards. They're also hypocrites. How would anyone know which books to ban if they haven't read them? I recall coming across a demonstration in New York against a movie theatre that was showing "The Last Temptation of Christ." I asked one of the demonstrators if she had ever read the Kazantzakis novel. She said she wouldn't go near it. When I told her the true story of a Jewish girl I knew who converted to Christianity after reading the book, she didn't want to hear it.

I love to read. I like to read history and philosophy among other things. I frequently come across authors who express an opinion or a point of view I disagree with or find troublesome to think about. But even if they don't change my mind, I will give them my earnest consideration. That's the pleasure of it.

For the edification of the book banners there's an old saying: "Get a life." And leave the books where they are.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
************************

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Lopsided Life

A strong conviction that something must be done is the parent of many bad measures.

Daniel Webster
******************
Hello Stuart
******************
Watchman, tell us of the night.
(I write because I must.)

I was more than mildly miffed at some parents who, when the World Trade Center was attacked, complained to the television networks for showing photos and videos of the destruction. Those parents didn't want their children to see what happened for fear they would grow up with a warped attitude about life and the world. Innocence is a beautiful thing, but how long can it go unchallenged?

When I was a child, before the era of television, we got our visual news from newsreels. When you went to a movie you got newsreels. I saw Hitler swaggering around, German troops marching in rank and file, bombs dropping and buildings being blown up. But I also saw the poor, emaciated prisoners of the concentration camps, some so weak from starvation they couldn't even sit up. I saw the blank looks of horror and despair. I saw the piles of corpses.

When you went to a movie you had to watch those things, you had no choice. No one was putting their hands over my eyes to prevent me from seeing them. (Ironically, and perhaps therapeutically, there was also always a cartoon.)

So maybe my point of view about the world has been shaped, altered, warped if you must, by having witnessed those heinous films and photos. But, if nothing else, it has given me a sturdier view of evil when I see it and the instinct to recognize the seeds of evil among the still falsely innocent, "unwarped" people of power. For example, those who compared President Obama with Adolf Hitler have absolutely no idea who Hitler was. They never watched those films.

I grew up in an unhappy home with no father and a verbally abusive mother. I made adjustments and survived. Now I worry about the child next door. The two adults, one of whom is her mother, fight frequently. The little girl cries and screams "No. No." They pay no attention to her except to scold her. She has no friends. She never goes out to play. No one visits her.

I am their closest neighbor. I often feel that I should do something, but I don't see what possible measure I can take that would be positive and not cause more trouble. If and until I decide what to do, I can ultimately trust, as I trusted myself, that she will grow up, make the proper adjustments to her lopsided life and survive.

DB - The Vagabond's Journey
Never give up.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

On The Train

Deep experience is never peaceful.

Henry James
********************
Hello Bruce
********************
Watchman, tell us of the night.
---------------------------
Weeping may endure for a night
But joy cometh in the morning.

The difficulty with this poem by Mrs. M. M. Weinland is that it doesn't tell how long the night may be. This has been a period of darkness for me, particularly the last 6 months. I look forward to finding that green and grassy meadow where I can rest in the sunshine and drink from the brook of joy. I refuse to accept the idea suggested by Sophocles that one reaches a point in life where joy is no longer a possibility.
-------------------------------------------------------------
I like trains. I prefer to travel by rail than by any other means. Although I am an excellent driver, rarely had an accident and never a serious one, the highway means other drivers and their irrational ways. And, although air travel is very fast by comparison, a train will never leave you sitting on a runway for 8 hours unable to get off or take off. And, if there's trouble, it won't land on some super highway, in a farmer's corn field or turn back to the wrong airport. And it won't lose your luggage. On a train your back pack is under your feet or in the rack above you.

In News York City, as with many cities, the best way to travel is by rail. The subway, as its name implies, is mostly underground, which means frequent long dark tunnels. But unlike any other form of transportation one can be sure that the train will reach its next destination. It has no choice, the rails ensure that.

When traveling through the tunnel you are unaware of how long it is. If you are lucky enough to be in the first car and can stand looking out the front window you are staring into the long dark tunnel until you finally see faint lights of the next station in the distance that gradually grow brighter and fill all the space. I am looking forward to seeing those lights.

I can also travel to New York City by rail on New Jersey Transit or Amtrak. When approaching the city the train goes underground to traverse the Hudson River thus making for another long dark tunnel. One day while sitting on that train a woman got on with a young girl. The girl spent the entire time staring out the window at the towns, stations, fields and wet lands as we passed them. She didn't say a word until we got to the tunnel under the river, Then after a while she said "When are we gonna come outta this creepy tunnel?"

What wisdom!! I keep asking myself the same question. When am I going to stop rumbling and shaking through my creepy tunnel? When am I going to see the lights up ahead telling me that I am approaching my destination? When am I going to reach the green, grassy meadow and sip the waters of the joy that cometh in the morning?

Joy. I hear it in the music of Bach, in the words of Shakespeare, in the calling of the few birds that live around here. I believe that joy, happiness, goodness exist, they are all already there waiting for us to get through the creepy tunnels of our lives. How long are the tunnels? No man knoweth.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
***********************

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Three Little Girls Are We

A child is a wondrous thing.

Dana Bate
***************
Hello Linda
***************
On my journey Friday the 13th along the ledges of the Universe I went through a door of peace into a friend's shop. Among the shopkeeper's customers were a father and two small children. He handed the shopkeeper two dollars and asked for quarters, which she smilingly gave him. He then gave them to his children so they could buy their sodas from the soft drink machine. The little girl was so small she could hardly reach the slot. Her slightly taller brother helped her while their father watched. When one of the quarters fell into the coin return her brother took it out and gave it back to her. The innocent determination and concentration on that little girl's face was a delight to see. She finally got her Pepsi.

The scene next door to me is one of Nature's sinister sporting events. My neighbors are a man, woman and child. The woman is the mother of the little girl. The man is not her father. The couple fight often, very loudly and with the worst language. When they do I can sometimes hear the little girl shouting "No. No." When the child does something one of them doesn't like and tries to discipline her the other adult takes the girl's side thus bringing on another fight. She is continually being flung back and forth across the family line like a volley ball. She's a lively, energetic child who talks a lot. But I think she speaks her own invented language because whenever I can hear her clearly I don't understand what she's saying. I wonder about her future.

Entering the Temple of Revealed Wisdom I came down the steps into the local library one day when I still had my cane. I got about 4 steps from the bottom when a very small girl approached the stairs to go up. When she saw me she stepped back to let me come down. I stopped, pulled over to the side and said "Come on." She ran up the steps and as she passed me she said in the tiniest little voice "Thank you." The library attended, who was sitting across from me, saw the whole encounter and was smiling. I walked over to her and said "If that's the future of America we've got nothing to worry about."

Unfortunately, maybe it isn't.

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
********************************

Friday, July 13, 2012

Some Thank Yous

Thank you Arlene and Rose. Thank you Anonymous Strangers from Ontario, Brazil, England, Paris, Lisbon, Morocco and South Africa and anyone else I don't know about who read my journal . Let your own lights shine brightly.

DB
Never give up.
************************

Truth

Sometimes the light of truth is so bright it blinds us until we finally become adjusted to it. Having once been thus blinded it is tempting to fear that light, to avoid it and seek the comfort of darkness, ignorance. We watch the moving shadows and call it real life. We block out ears against the warning bells. We seek safety in sleep. We rest in the ashes of past years. We are satisfied with easy answers. We are afraid.

I WANT TO MOVE OUT INTO THE LIGHT AND SQUINT UNTIL I CAN SEE AND I WANT YOU TO JOIN ME.

DB - Vagabond
Never give up.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Vagabond Out

The Vagabond is away on a long hike through the pure fecund forest of thought.

DB
Never Give Up
************************

Monday, July 9, 2012

Vagabondless

This is the one thousand eight hundred and eleventh issue of the Vagabond journeys. What's a vagabond? We're perfectly normal, except that we're not. We're just like everyone else, except that we're not. There's nothing wrong with being a vagabond, except for the things that are.

Scripture says that those with the gift to encourage should encourage. It seems that maybe my job is done. Over the years I've used quotations from the Bible, Confucius, Kabbalah, The Koran, Oahspe, Tao Te Ching, Yoga Sutra and the Zohar. not to proselytize any special religion or even religion in general. . I've quoted saints and prophets, ministers, imams, priests and rabbis, ancient and modern philosophers, presidents, kings and queens. It has been my gift and pleasure to do so.

But my readership has fallen to a very low, unacceptable level. When I think about writing another journey I sigh and wonder if it will go anywhere in the world to do any good . It's true I have a few loyal readers, who are more like friends than objects for my thoughts, and I definitely want to keep in touch with them, but the hours I spend composing and writing a Vagabond Journey I don't spend reading other people's blogs or answering the emails I get. I want to spend more time on that and on my own personal writing and painting. Even though facebook is totally irresponsible in its ineptness, I will keep my facebook page open just for contacts (if they don't shut me down in grumbling puerility).

Also, since my mind won't stop grinding away on subjects that interest me, I will post an occasional paragraph or two on my Friends List: observations of the doings around me, words to the wise and the otherwise, thoughts on any subjects of general interest or no interest at all. I'll be busy.

But for now The Vagabond is on extended vacation.

And you, whatever youre doing, never give up.
Dana
*******************************************
*******************************************

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Old Timers

Old folks are people who have been young longer than young folks.

Dana Bate
****************
Hello Stuart
***************
When I was younger I frequently played characters who were much older than myself because of my imposing voice and presence. I tried in my acting to approximate what I thought old and late middle age was like. I feel slightly embarrassed about that now. At my current age of 73 I realize now how youthful those men actually were. I would like to go back and play some of those characters again, and do it right. It's a great mistake of the younger generation to assume and ascribe to men and women of advanced years necessary decrepitude, loss of strength and abilities, memory failure and even disgusting attitudes about life and the young. "He's just an old curmudgeon." I'm fond of iterating that the reason old folks can't remember things is because there are things old folks don't want to remember.

I knew an actor about my age who, when we reached our 40's, began describing all the things that would go wrong with me. Soon this would start giving out, after a while I would be losing that and eventually I would have to have the other thing done to me. I completely rejected the whole theory from my own thinking. I saw him again years later and he was suffering from all the things he had described. I wonder what he thought when he saw that I wasn't.

A few years ago two younger people I know decided that the next logical step for me was to sign myself over to the soft featherbed of assisted living/nursing home, to put myself into the hands of the doctors, obtain my wheelchair and sit around preparing to die. One of them even said I would be bed ridden in six months. I laugh "Yes, I'm bed ridden every night and when the sun comes up in the morning, I'm healed."

Many artists, writers and thinkers have accomplished their greatest and most important work at the tender ages of 80 or 90. That's a fact of life, don't waste your time doubting it. Age may be pasted on to the basic model but the man and woman underneath is also still the boy and the girl.

There is no reason to stop and capitulate to anyone's idea of old age, even your own. Even though he went deaf Beethoven continued to compose some of the world's greatest music. As George Washington wrote "It's wonderful what we can do if we're always doing." And that's why I say -

Never Give Up
DB, and the Magical Vagabond Journeys
************************

SUMMER QUESTION

I recently received a peck on the cheek from two members of the female persuasion. Besides those I haven't experienced a real kiss in many, many years. I have no flowers. There is nothing growing outside, no trees, no bushes, no flowers, just a few pathetic weeds here and there. That, thankfully, does a lot to discourage the mosquito population, but it doesn't give me much in the way of flora. So I pose this question for those of you who have more experience in these matters.
-------------------------------------------------
Which is more important, a flower or a kiss? Why?

dbdacoba@aol.com

Thank you.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Step Forward

(Watchman tell us of the night.)
---------------------------------------

It is hardly possible to build anything if frustration, bitterness and a mood of helpless prevail.

Lech Walesa
***************
Hello Arlene
****************
The operative nasty word here is "entitlement" which could be a good word under the right circumstances, but if applied to negative thinking it vibrates with the loud bongs of a funeral march.

The things I try to do don't work out and I can't figure out why they don't. Of course I'm frustrated. Who wouldn't be?

My life is a bucket of tears and pain. I have a divine right to be bitter.

Look at the mess the world is in. There's no hope for any of us, we're all doomed. There's nothing I can do about it. It's a helpless situation.

We buy these negative suggestions because we think we have the right to them, we are empowered by our life's circumstances to be pessimistic. Nihilism reigns supreme in the mind of the negative thinker. "Take off the rose colored glasses and face reality. Life is a bitch and the earth is a junk yard."

Well Walesa didn't think so and hence created Solidarity and changed the history of Poland and, as a result, of the whole Soviet Union.

Another belligerent word in the realm of negativity is "possession." We believe, somehow, that we own those destructive thoughts, they are ours and we have the obligation to take possession of them. That errant mental activity leads nowhere but into darkness.

The first step out of the darkness is to turn around.

The next step is to decide to become a watchman. To begin to sniff out, spy out, and recognize the dooms day, doom saying thoughts and ideas that approach our unsuspecting minds like hungry mosquitoes or sudden thunder storms.

The third step is to deny the validity of such depressing ideas. To see them as egg shells, or banana peels or filters from used up cigarettes, to be scooped up and donated to the trash.

Step number four is to affirm the opposite ideas. "Keep your eye upon the doughnut and not upon the hole." as the old saying goes. While Shakespeare wrote "Impossible be strange attempts to those who weight their pains in sense." To affirm is to bring into reality what maybe you can't see or experience yet. But it will not happen unless it exists in thought first, visualized and, not just believed in but, cherished.

Step number five - start building.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
****************************
SUMMER QUESTION

I recently received a peck on the cheek from two members of the female persuasion. Besides those I haven't experienced a real kiss in many, many years. I have no flowers. There is nothing growing outside, no trees, no bushes, no flowers, just a few pathetic weeds here and there. That, thankfully, does a lot to discourage the mosquito population, but it doesn't give me much in the way of flora. So I pose this question for those of you who have more experience in these matters.
-------------------------------------------------
Which is more important, a flower or a kiss? Why?

dbdacoba@aol.com

Thank you.

Friday, July 6, 2012

The Road

Face the winds and walk the good road to the day of quiet.

Black Elk
******************
Hello Ernie
******************
I know an actress named Emily who says that her daily prayer is "God, give me peace." I can relate to that. Oh, how I yearn for the quiet day. My heart, my mind and my whole being hopes of the day when the vultures spread their wings and fly off, when the vipers slip silently back into their holes, and when the catalogue of my mistakes is flung into the fire to help warm the cold night of winter. I yearn for the end of sorrow. I long for the repair of my broken heart and the gathering up of broken dreams.

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone
I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
When the city sleepsAnd
I'm the only one and I walk alone

(Al Dubin/Harry Warren)

I walk alone but try to stay on the good road at last. I hope for the biting winds of winter to become the gentle breeze that clears my spirit. To have a sweet person bring me Christmas dinner on a freezing cold December night and then to learn that the sweetness was a lie and the person a deceiver is a breaking of the heart. The love I still have for that person keeps me on the good road.

Walk in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the righteous. (Proverbs 2:20)

To be unable to do the work I love because of where I live is a breaking of the dream, but my heart still holds the hope that I will step upon a stage again one day. I walk alone with that hope clutched in my heart.

The good road is a lonely one and I have to keep checking the signs to see that I stay on it. But through all the sorrow, fear, noise, pain, scorn, disappointment, discouragement, loss and failure, I still walk the road believing that there will be at last a day of quiet.

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up************************

SUMMER QUESTION

I recently received a peck on the cheek from two members of the female persuasion. Besides those I haven't experienced a real kiss in many, many years. I have no flowers. There is nothing growing outside, no trees, no bushes, no flowers, just a few pathetic weeds here and there. That, thankfully, does a lot to discourage the mosquito population, but it doesn't give me much in the way of flora. So I pose this question for those of you who have more experience in these matters.
-------------------------------------------------
Which is more important, a flower or a kiss? Why?

dbdacoba@aol.com

Thank you.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

From The Deep

(check out the summer question at the end)
---------------------------------------------------

Sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows.

Jean Anouilh
*****************
Hello Bruce
********************
Because the community of the world's marine biologists has displayed such amazing curiosty we are learning more about the vast number of creatures that live below the surface of the oceans. Fishers with their hooks and nets don't generally come up with any deep water ocean dwellers. But due to the sophisticated equipment now in use by scientists, almost every day some new sea faring animal or plant is found and, if not brought to the surface, at least photographed or video taped.

We know about the squid that keeps folding and unfolding on itself like some confused, maniac, streaking fish that seem to go almost as fast as the speed of light, worms that live in a tube and never come out like hermits and the xenophobic and drones that just crawl along the bottom of the ocean floor.

At about the same time as the marine biologists were beginning to seriously explore the ocean depths, other scientists were beginning to dig into the watery depths of the subconscious mind. Amazing discoveries were made about the fears, visions, splits, cracks and folds in the mortal human mind.

In both cases it took courage to even consider looking beneath the surface of things and even more courage to jump in. But one doesn't have to be a scientist to go searching around for treasures in dark places. There is so much more to life than any of us know. We may spend years groping around on the bottom, feeding on crumbs, we may live inside our own minds and not consider new ideas and new contacts, we may dash through life like a workaholic and never pause to investigate where and how we live, or we may live in a state of confusion about life, not knowing which way to turn and what to do next.

Those things are all mental sea creatures keeping us submerged. The answer is to do some work, to let go of the habitual way of thinking and behaving, to rethink yourself and your identity, to reach out beyond your grasp to a life you can imagine and start putting yourself there, piece by piece. Your life may be just fine right now, and I hope it is, but think about where you might rather be, who you might rather be or what you might rather be doing. Those investigations can sometimes yield treasures and one of them may be very useful to you. You don't have to bring them all to the surface, but the deeper you dive the more interesting it gets.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
****************************
SUMMER QUESTION

I recently received a peck on the cheek from two members of the female persuasion. Besides those I haven't experienced a real kiss in many, many years. I have no flowers. There is nothing growing outside, no trees, no bushes, no flowers, just a few pathetic weeds here and there. That, thankfully, does a lot to discourage the mosquito population, but it doesn't give me much in the way of flora. So I pose this question for those of you who have more experience in these matters.
-------------------------------------------------
Which is more important, a flower or a kiss? Why?

dbdacoba@aol.com

Thank you.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Question

SUMMER QUESTION
***************************
Hello George
***************************
I recently received a peck on the cheek from two members of the female persuasion. Besides those I haven't experienced a real kiss in many, many years. I have no flowers. There is nothing growing outside, no trees, no bushes, no flowers, just a few pathetic weeds here and there. That, thankfully, does a lot to discourage the mosquito population, but it doesn't give me much in the way of flora. So I pose this question for those of you who have more experience in these matters.
-------------------------------------------------
Which is more important, a flower or a kiss? Why?

dbdacoba@aol.com

Thank you.

***********************
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
******************

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Ignition Please

You can measure a man by the opposition it takes to discourage him.

Robert Savage
*******************
Hello Diane
*******************
One summer I spent as a friend of a camp for underprivileged kids. I wasn't a counselor but I was around there a lot helping out with various programs.

There was a young man there who had delivered some of the campers. After he saw them safely with their supervisors he got in his car to leave and the car wouldn't start. He inspected the car trying to get it going, but it refused to start.

There was a long dirt road from the camp out to the country road that led eventually to the town where there was an auto repair shop. It was a distance of 5 to 7 miles. He started out walking and hours later came back with a bag of dinner and a few parts for the car. He installed one of the parts, tried the car again, with result. It was getting dark so he stopped, ate his dinner and slept in the car.

In the morning he went for a swim in the lake, ate his breakfast roll he had bought the day before and went back to work on his car. This was a daily ritual that went on for many days, a week at least.

Occasionally I would pass by and see him with bits and pieces of his engine strewn around and himself with his head in under the hood. If he wasn't there it meant he had made another long trek into town to procure more parts.

Because he wasn't working for the camp he didn't feel right about taking any of its food. And he didn't choose to face the expense of having a wrecker crew come out and haul the car into a shop. He was determined to do it himself.

One afternoon I was standing near by talking to one of the counselors. The man had the back seat out and sitting on the grass, he was inside the car replacing some wires.

The counselor and I were looking out at the lake when we heard the car start. We turned. The man put the back seat in and attached it. He gathered up the old parts that he had removed and put them in the trunk. Then he gathered up his tools and put them in the trunk, closed the trunk and with a smile he got in the car and drove away, without a word.

The counselor said he never thought the guy would do it. I had to admire that young man. How many miles had he walked on hot summer roads, each time thinking, hoping he had the solution to the problem and each time being disappointed, until the last. Never giving up, he faced more discouragement than most of us ever know. I've never forgotten him, obviously.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
****************************

Monday, July 2, 2012

How hot is it?

'Tain't the **** it's the ********.
------------------------------------------
Hello Barbara
-------------------------------------------
We're havin' a **** wave, a tropical **** wave.
There'll be a *** time in the old town tonight,
Come on baby light my ****.
I've got steam ****.
*** town, summer in the city
We're ******' at the Continental.
I don't want to set the world on ****.
I just want to start a ***** in your heart.
*** fun in the summertime.
The **** is on.
***cross buns
Ring of ****.
That was a real nice clam ****.
Goodness gracious Great balls of ****.
****** love.
*** dog, that's where my money goes.
Pot *****.
A side of *****.
Salt and ******
In the **** of the night.
Mississippi *******
**** down below.
*** in the shade
--------------------------------

(with assistance from Sue Hertz)
DB - Vagabond'
Never give up.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

A Good Friend

May you always be blessed with amiable companions.

Dana Bate
*************
Hello Linda
***************
I have been yearning for a visit from someone. Since I don't have any friends in Bristol looking for some social contact has been like trying to fish in a mud puddle. There are the artists I see once a month, the immediate neighbors who don't talk to me. the shop keepers who are nice, but that's it.

There's Linda who comes over know and then, but she lives a good distance away, longer than a marathon. But because of her sense of humor it is a lively time when we get together.

But yesterday Margie came, with a picnic lunch: tuna, cheese, grapefruit, strawberries and cookies. What a pleasure it was, a few hours of good eats and good companionship.

Margie and I have know each other for many years, we used to work together. But we didn't talk about old times. We talked about what is happening today in her life and my life. She showed me her own art work and looked at mine. We talked about things. The best kind of contact.

Now, when the warmth and joy of her visit wears off I will me complaining once again that no one comes to visit me

Friends, good friends, good people who are friends, are the ennobling rights of life. They keep us from being aliens, strangers in a chaotic world of strangers. They identify us as worthy. They shed value on us. They help us to enjoy a plateful of self confidence. They write us into their own lives. They are gifts.

A good friend is one who approves of you even though they know you well. A good friendship should be kept in a locket in one's heart.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
***************************