Vagabond Journeys

I Write

2012-02-15T00:00:00.001-05:00

Why do I write?

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
*****************************
Hello Mark
*****************************
I write to stay sane in an insane world.
I write to love in a hateful world.
I write for my life in a deadly world.
I write to find peace in a cruel world.
I write for joy in a sorry world.
I write to think in a thoughtless world.
I write to be safe in a dangerous world.
I write to chase phantoms from my brain.
I write to squeeze passion from my heart.
I write to forget the malignant smile.
I write to save the suffering child.
I write to revise the pain I feel.
I write to seize my old age with strength.
I write for light in a gloomy world.
I write to creep away from lies.
I write to remember the never again.
I write to clear the table before me.
I write to sting the vipers.
I write to avoid the ignorant.
I write to see the mountain top.
I write to decorate my solitude.
I write for truth in a dishonest world.
I write to understand my words.
I write to beautify my friends.
I write to calm the raging in my soul.
I write to scream at heaven.
I write to find my place.
I write to lose my stupidity.
I write to try to forgive myself.
I write to banish treachery from my sight.
I write to signal angels.
I write to silently weep.
I write for rightness in a wronged world.
I write for freedom in a world of slavery.
I write to mourn my life of trouble.
I write for goodness in an evil world.
I write for the death of evil.
I write to pray for bliss.
I write to ask for help.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up

Drop the Mask

2012-02-14T00:01:00.001-05:00

No one is outside the maze of human behavior looking in.

Dana Bate
*****************
Hello Rose
*****************
We are all invited to the huge masquerade of human life. Some of us are wearing masks and some of us are not. Those of us who don't don the disguises of the masses, the artists of the world, and specifically the writers, are given the task of judging the faces, the facades, that they see.

Two important questions must be asked. The first is who is behind the mask and the second is why did the person behind the mask choose that particular mask to wear? The great writers do this with ease and appreciation. Like the ever changing figures in a life drawing class hardly anything is more complex than the human being. But the writer must be careful to observe and store vital information about the person whose mask he his trying to peer behind. The pretender will always give himself or herself away in the end. In fact, if they are serious pretenders they probably want to be found out because only an excellent observer can do it. One who deserves their respect. Unfortunately the seeker for truth frequently ends up being so disgusted with the pretensions of the masquerader there is no mutual respect. Some people's masquerades are transparent though they don't think so.

The observer of life must also remember that he too wears a mask even though the mask may be in fact his own face.

"Trust a few" Shakespeare wrote. How do we know who we can trust? We can trust those who are worthy of our trust> But how do we judge worthiness? Only time and careful observation can tell. We can trust those who have danced through enough of life's ballrooms to have learned honesty.

The pretentious, the devious, the duplicitous are those we learn not to trust and that knowledge of others can only come through careful observation as we do our own dancing in the maze. Those who are not what they say they are or what they think they are are the greatest pretenders on the dance floor. They are the clay of novels and short stories for the writer to sink his typing fingers into. Dishonesty reveals itself eventually, often to the writer before iit's revealed to the pretender, and by revealing itself reveals the truth and, for one observer, the mask comes off..

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

Books

2012-02-10T00:03:00.001-05:00

It's quiet here in hell tonight, for now. The echoes are still around but only I can hear them. I see the lonely street lamp outside in the cold night sharing its light for the traffic. There is no traffic but it will share the light anyway.

I went through my books and separated out two of my favorite catagories: history and biography. I removed my book marks and saw that they had their dust covers on, They are going to a new home in the public library. I love those books but they had to go as it is impossible to carry them with me any longer. The library will share them with others to read. Will those who read them love them as much as I do?

It is a terrible thing to give away the books you love. But not quite as tragic as to give away the person you love. Oh, the pain.
----------------------------------------------
What is this need to share? Why share a light, a thing, a dinner, an experience, an adventure, a life, a love, with the unworthy, with the worthy, until there is nothing left, and years later you become someone's story, or someone's joke. Oh, oh, the pain.
----------------------------------------
Why don't I learn my lesson. Don't buy a lot of books. You will never settle down. You will never have a home. You've been a vagabond since you were 6 years old and it hasn't changed. You live in a world of strangers, trusting the untrustworthy, depending on the undependable, hoping for the gentle hand that never reaches out, or reaches out with hidden barbs. OH, the PAIN
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You've always been alone, vagabond, facing the terrors of the days and nights by yourself. You've had a few, very few, visitors, but no one moves in. They have a family to go back to, they have a home. You tried to make a family out of the artists you worked with in the theatre, but they all had families and homes. You got your heart broken.

But you didn't learn. You tried once again when the gentle hand was reaching out. But you didn't see the hidden part until it was too late. And now again your heart is broken. Oh, Oh, OOOH. THE PAIN. ! ! !
------------------------------------
Stop looking for a family and a home. Own only those books you can carry on your back and beware the gentle hand.

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

Vagabondism 275

2012-02-08T23:24:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #275 "Two of the most dangerous things in life are ignorance and truth." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Where Am I?

2012-02-08T00:21:00.000-05:00

Dear friends and readers.

My journal listings have been few lately and not very inspiring. When will I get back to business, back to spirit and a positive thrust in my life?

I suffered a giant blow to my emotions from the betrayal of my love and concern for someone I thought I could trust and respect and who I thought trusted and respected me.

I still suffer. The healing hasn't begun yet. Once it does and the stitches hold I hope I will find my way back out of this miserable burning of my soul and write you a better journal.

Being alone is hell. I have no friends here. I had one friend, I thought, my only friend, a daughter friend, the only daughter I ever had, who turned out to be not such a friend.

When I get to a safe place I will lie down and have a good long cry about the finality of things and about the person I deeply and earnestly loved but who I will probably never see again. And then the healing will begin, I hope.

DB ' The Vagabond
Never Give Up

Vagabondism 274

2012-02-06T10:33:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #274 "The life that I live is Life living."
dbdacoba@aol.com

Silly Man

2012-02-05T00:01:00.003-05:00

Do not trust all man, but trust men of worth, the former course is silly, the latter is a mark of prudence.

Democritus
********************
Hello Jon
**********************
A friend once asked me "Why do you insist on believing that everyone is as intelligent as you are?" I don't know if that remark was insight or flattery but I answered by saying "Because I want them to be."

It reminded me of times that I did talk to people expecting them to really understand the ideas I was expressing. Some people, it seemed, just plain could not. I always want people to be better than they are, and I have a strange feeling that if I treat them that way they will respond accordingly.

I have made the same mistake about trusting people. Recently I had the terrible experience of finding out that someone I was close to could not be trusted. It's always a greet shock to the system when you realize how much you have given of yourself in a relationship when you find out you've been fooled and the other person isn't trustworthy.

"Trust a few" Shakespeare said. But how do we know which few to trust? Is it wise not to trust anybody? Can we live in the pathways of suspicion with everyone we meet? Can we live under the sword of wondering if we can trust ourselves?

I have known a few people whom I trusted and I believe they were genuinely able to be trusted. A very few. But they were people who when negative feelings came rolling in on them were able to keep their trustworthiness intact. I like to think I am that way myself.

When it turned out this person could not be trusted it was a very painful event for me. But I acknowledge that the pain was caused by me for trusting where it was not possible, and that happened through lack of observation. People usually give the signs that tell you they can't be trusted and I simply ignored and did not read the signs. My fault.

Observing and listening are very important practices in all human relationships. It saves from jumping to conclusions about other people, as I did.

Suffer, rue, heal and try to remember the lesson for the next time, if you can, silly man.

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

What Are You Feeling

2012-02-04T00:00:00.003-05:00

It is the tragedy of the world that no one knows what he doesn't know.

Joyce Cary
***************
Hello Kate
***************
If you don't feel my pain don't laugh at it.

Among the most complicated aspects of human life are the emotions. Who can explain where they come from, how they act and react and what they do to us? We may enjoy a good farce where we see a man slip on a banana peal and fall on his butt. Or we may enjoy watching the Three Stooges beat each other up. Because we know in those cases the pain isn't real. But some people laugh at real pain, a beggar stumbling down the street, a woman wailing uncontrollably over the death of a child, the antics of a one legged pigeon. The reasons why those things may seem funny are the grotesque qualities and the fact that you can't feel the suffering.

There is a large category of things that can be called emotions but they are all some form of discord in the system and they all affect us in different ways. Some people are seemingly insensitive to their feelings while others are overly sensitive. There are other result characteristics that come into being, sympathy, empathy, compassion or the lack thereof. Since emotions are not seen except in effects a man may be suffering a huge heart ache or intense fear and we wouldn't know it from looking at him unless we could read the signs.

The best position for someone to take is to be aware that the other person has feelings and they should be respected if we don't want to stir up a lot of negatives.

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

Vagabonidsm 273

2012-02-03T17:26:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #273 "I like to walk among the trees because the trees don't judge me."
http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

What's Important

2012-02-03T00:01:00.003-05:00

How much do you engage yourself in what is truly real and important in life? That's the individual question.

Ted Danson
*****************
Hello Bruce
*******************
The questions might be rather what do we consider truly real and important, or how many things do we allow to get in the way of what is truly real and important? There's the laundry that has to be done, the dishes washed, a shopping list to be made, the kids off to school, the complexities of human relationships, the stress of work. Or do we just relax into a hum drum mentality and let the truly real and important things pass us by.

One day I went into Central Park in New York to watch the marathon. I was near the finish line. Behind me were two people, a man and a woman, standing on folding chairs watching the runners go by. They were waiting to see their daughter cross the finish line. While they were there the woman kept up a constant chatter about other people, the ones she knew, the ones she worked with, family members and neighbors. Her talk was all about fingernail polish, hair color, men's ties and shoes, this one's tone of voice and that one's mustache. I thought to myself "Doesn't this woman ever say something real and important?" But I suppose she thought it was all important, vital information in the over all cosmic scheme of things. The man said nothing except an occasional "Hm." Finally he said he thought he had seen the girl pass and went off to the finish line to find her. The woman became quiet, which was a blessed relief, but I'm sure her mind was working away at ties and hair color.

And how can we get to the point where we can look at all those busy chores that are interfering with any engagement with reality and importance. How do we get to the point where we can say "Stop." It is surely an individual moment. It happens according to certain circumstances, one of which is being ready. Admitting that we are ready for something else than the ordinary. It's like saying there must be more to life than this.

To some people the engagement of important ideas is an interruption in their life of daily tasks, rather than the tasks taking a back seat to the worlds true realities.

It is truly up to the individual how he approaches the obligation to be aware of the fancies and facts that float in the atmosphere of thought. We are not free from the duty of thinking. How we do it is either a drudge or a miracle.

DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.

Vagabondism 272

2012-02-02T10:50:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #272 "Some folks are so busy living they don't stop to realize they're alive."
http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

More On The Joyless

2012-02-02T00:01:00.001-05:00

Today I'm laughing in my wine, but not for joy. For the ridicule and pain of life.

Lies and tricks on a simple trusting man are seen in the jester's face.

Don't let him know. It might hurt him. Don't let him know his father's dead. Don't let him know. It might hurt him. Don't let him know I'm in the room next door. I'll come by the back way to avoid him so he won't know. It might hurt him. Don't let him know what I'm doing here. Don't let him know what we're doing here. It might hurt him. Don't let him know.

Not letting me know is what hurt me the most.

Why are there only two in the room? Because there are not three? "That's a good fool."

I hear the knocking on the other man's door. Why is the poor fool alone? Because no one ever knocks on his door? "That's a good fool."

Why does the good fool leave his heart on the front porch? Because he thinks someone might want it? "That's a good fool."

What does the stupid fool want? The same thing that everyone else wants. And what is that stupid fool? Love. "Gooood! Stupid fool. That's the right answer" What do I win?

Check one:

affection
appreciation
approval
attention
beauty
benefits
care
compassion
comradeship
etc.

Sorry poor fool, you get none of the above.

That's okay. I don't expect anything. "That's a good fool."

DB

In The Beer

2012-02-01T16:15:00.002-05:00

The worst sin - perhaps the only sin - passion can commit, is to be joyless.

Dorothy Sayers
******************
Hello Diane
******************
Troublesome times are still floating in my glass of beer. Unanswered questions plague my heart. I can't bear being tricked.

I posed the question should I cry in my beer or laugh in my wine. The consensus of opinions seems to be that I should do both. The sound that you hear is me opening a beer.

We are now in the time of mid winter. This is and has always been a very grim time for me as it is for many people. The Farmers Almanac says that by February 5 I should have half of my wood still left and half of my hay. But it doesn't say anything about my spirit. As the song says "This weather makes a man feel old."

I try to think about the future. I don't like to think about the past or the present. The past is full of regrets and the future is full of fears. I carry with me every day all the passions of a reconstructed teenager. But with the added burdens of a life time of accumulated knowledge. I know better than to expect happiness and harmony every staggered step I take down the street. But I don't know myself well enough to know how to avoid the rocks and puddles of my own feelings.

Why have I removed my heart from my sleeve and left it out on the front porch? Why does my imagination which allows me to write and paint and dream also construct sorrowful scenarios to plague me like daemons? I hide, like Scrooge, from a wicked world, but without Scrooge's money. I take pleasure in small things but ignore the dangers in the bigger ones.

Inside this mortal lump of clay my passions bubble and foam, like the beer in this glass, for a pure and happy life, contentment, peace and certainty. And joy. I want, but don't expect them. I expect the opposite. Threats, shocks, pain, and trouble. And sorrow.

Why should that be? I know I deserve better. I deserve not to be cheated out of my joy. In all the tumbling I've done in and out of righteousness over the years I have at least learned to laugh at my foolishness and discipline my thoughts. Then why am I sitting here right now, today, in fear and sadness over things I can't control?

I don't know what the future is, who does? But I know I have one and I want it to be better than the present. Today I will hide in the bottle. Tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that I will face the pain and take the staggering steps necessary to make some brighter day appear, I hope.

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

Vagabondism 271

2012-01-31T11:10:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #271 "There are heros in the world who, if you are forced to your knees, will help you up or join you there."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

In The Beer

2012-01-31T00:03:00.001-05:00

The worst sin - perhaps the only sin - passion can commit, is to be joyless.

Dorothy Sayers
******************
Hello Diane
******************
Yesterday I posed the question should I cry in my beer or laugh in my wine. The consensus of opinions seems to be that I should do both. The sound that you hear is me opening a beer.

We are now in the time of mid winter. This is and has always been a very grim time for me as it is for many people. The Farmers Almanac says that by February 5 I should have half of my wood still left and half of my hay. But it doesn't say anything about my spirit. As the song says "This weather makes a man feel old."

I try to think about the future. I don't like to think about the past or the present. The past is full of regrets and the future is full of fears. I carry with me every day all the passions of a reconstructed teenager. But with the added burdens of a life time of accumulated knowledge. I know better than to expect happiness and harmony every staggered step I take down the street. But I don't know myself well enough to know how to avoid the rocks and puddles of my own feelings.

Why have I removed my heart from my sleeve and left it out on the front porch? Why does my imagination which allows me to write and paint and dream also construct sorrowful scenarios to plague me like daemons? I hide, like Scrooge, from a wicked world, but without Scrooge's money. I take pleasure in small things but ignore the dangers in the bigger ones.

Inside this mortal lump of clay my passions bubble and foam, like the beer in this glass, for a pure and happy life, contentment, peace and certainty. And joy. I want, but don't expect them. I expect the opposite. Threats, shocks, pain, and trouble. And sorrow.

Why should that be? I know I deserve better. I deserve not to be cheated out of my joy. In all the tumbling I've done in and out of righteousness over the years I have at least learned to laugh at my foolishness and discipline my thoughts. Then why am I sitting here right now, today, in fear and sadness over things I can't control?

I don't know what the future is, who does? But I know I have one and I want it to be better than the present. Today I will hide in the bottle. Tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that I will face the pain and take the staggering steps necessary to make some brighter day appear, I hope.

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

Vagabondism 270

2012-01-30T12:36:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #270 "Everyone's life is a story that should be told."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

Drive On

2012-01-30T00:02:00.003-05:00

We're actually still changing the world, aren't we?

Rick Danko
*******************
Hello Marty
*******************
My mother was an excellent driver. When I was a youngster my sister lived in Boston and we would occasionally visit her by driving up there from New York. In those days the main highway out of the city was known as the Merritt Parkway. Along the way there were strips of commerce, restaurants, gas stations. motels, shops. Otherwise the scenery along the way was very pleasant. The Merritt passed under many bridges, there were side roads and the evidence of communities near it.

The Marritt Parkway is still there but it has since been replaced as the major road by a super highway, I 91, which runs through Connecticut and hooks up with the Massachusetts Turnpike. It's also surrounded by some very attractive scenery, planted and landscaped to adorn the highway.

As I grew older and made the trip to Boston and back I wondered what had been there. What communities, patches of forest or lake had been removed to make way for the Interstate. Whereas the Merritt had given glimpses of local life along its path, I 90 merely had signs and exit ramps. Whatever was there before the highway was built is gone forever. It can never be brought back.

In the 40s and 50s there was a city planner in New York named Robert Moses who, although he didn't drive himself, saw the automobile as the future of America. He built a major highway in northern New York City called The Cross Bronx Expressway. If you drive down it you will see on either side apartment buildings. In order to build that highway, many blocks of apartment buildings had to be torn down and a huge trench carved into the ground. A great many people had to be removed from their homes and neighborhoods. People who could walk a few blocks to their doctor's office or their favorite shops could no longer do that. There are pedestrian bridges that cross it, but not many. The buildings, homes. parks, neighbors, lives are all gone now and will never be returned.

New York City changes so fast that there's a joke which says that if you turn your back on it for one day they have torn down one building and put up a bigger one.

No one would deny those two highways and others like them all around the country make travel faster and easier for the motorist. The unfortunate thing is that no one can remember what was there. It is forever gone from sight and memory.

Progress and development is taking place all over American to provide better transportation and housing. Forests are being cut down, bays and wetlands are being filled in, mountain tops are being leveled. And all the while changes are taking place in the American people. We have become a nation of the convenient, the instantaneous and the forgetful. Instant coffee, fast food, immediate entertainment, instant gratification. What is gone about us that will never return?

In his epic poem John Brown's Body, Stephen Vincent Benet wrote about the mountains, the people and things that are gone

They are our last frontier.
They shot the railway-train when it first came,
And when the Fords first came, they shot the Fords.
It could not save them. They are dying now
Of being educated, which is the same.
One need not weep romantic tears for them,
But when the last moonshiner buys his radio,
And the last, lost, wild-rabbit of a girl
Is civilized with a mail-order dress,
Something will pass that was American
And all the movies will not bring it back.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
***************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Bach In B Minor

2012-01-29T00:02:00.002-05:00

In the face of all that is crooked about the world, when I listen to the music of Bach things straighten out.

Dana Bate
**********************
Hello Frosty
**********************
Dear Friend, I know you are probably not going to do this, but I'm telling you to do it anyway. At some point soon in your progressing life you must listen to a performance of the B minor Mass by Johann Sebastian Bach. Bach wasn't a Catholic but he wrote a lot of religious music, most of it in German, The Christmas and Easter Oratorios, The Saint Mathew and Saint John Passions and many Cantatas. So composing to the Latin Mass was a special venture for Bach. What he created is a conglomeration of some of the greatest music ever composed.

If you can't bear to hear the whole thing then at least listen to the opening section. It's a stately fugue for chorus and orchestra based on only the first 2 words of the Mass: Kyrie Eleison. It is a landscape of music. I promise.

If you keep going and get to the middle you'll hear Cum Sancto Spiritu, which lifts off and flies.

Later on Et Resurrexit jumps up out of silence and dances with so much joy it almost tumbles over itself.

As you listen don't just think it's beautiful, which it is, but listen into the music, try to hear every note from the kettle drum to the high trumpet, from the bass to the sopranos.

If you make it to the final chorus, you're life will have progressed, I guarantee it.

If you don't listen to this music I will still talk to you anyway.

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

Vagabond 268

2012-01-28T11:41:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #268, "In order to know the answer one must understand the question." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Be Like The Moon

2012-01-28T00:06:00.003-05:00

People seldom improve when they have no model but themselves to copy.

Oliver Goldsmith
*********************
Hello Sienna
*********************
The moon is not a disk. I will not forget the first time I watched a lunar eclipse through high powered binoculars. It was amazing to see that huge globe suspended in space with no apparent means of support. I could clearly see that it was a rounded object, with a front, sides and a mysterious back, which added to the spectacle of the eclipse.

When the final words of farewell are said and the rocket blasts off, the ship is taken into outer space where all things are dark. There is the constant sun, shining by its own light. But it produces no light in the solar system unless something is facing it. And then, as with the moon, it is reflected light.

Once into outer space many conditions are no longer present which we have come to depend on. There is no up or down. There is no left or right except as defined by the human body. It is only from a defined quarter like the International Space Station that we can even define in and out. And we are sure it is an either/or situation, like a coin is heads or tails. The obverse side of the coin is "in", the reverse side is "out." There is no transition place, no place that is neither in nor out, no place where in is becoming out or out is becoming in.

There are some metaphysical lessons to be seen and possibly learned from these observations. Like the limited in or out of the space station, our lives often take on the absolutes of our character and behavior, and the influences upon them. For example, we seem to be forever held in a suspended orbit of self expectation and self satisfaction; an obverse and a reverse, two side of the coin. We look to others for approval and to ourselves for justification. We want our lives to be better and look outside ourselves to imagine the better life. We may know we are capable of improvement but judge our capabilities only by what we already know of ourselves. We may like what we see of ourselves but we think there is another, mysterious side to the coin which we can't see. We find in other people examples of the person we would like to be and attempt to emulate them. Some of those models are appropriate to us. Others aren't and if we try those models on for size we step into a masquerade of pretense and artificiality. When we emulate the good, the appropriate models we may bring into our lives, without pretensions, the genuine qualities of those models. In such a case no artificiality is involve because we are adopting qualities which harmonize with the ones we already have. We are improving our own model by increasing its dimensions. There are now modifying elements to adopt. There is no longer an in or out of character, no more accepted or rejected behavior. We become freer of the limitations of stern absolutism. Now there are transitions. We worry less about consistency and more about creativity. And every part of our lives has its effect on every other part, what is simplisticaly called a "well rounded person," as we spin through our lives ia complete individual, not a disk.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
**************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 267

2012-01-27T10:11:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #267 "It's hard to know what you're getting into until you get into it." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

The Editors Two

2012-01-27T00:00:00.001-05:00

Nature alone can make a man judicious, experience can make a judicious man wise.

Immanuel Kant
**********************
Hello Indigo
**********************
My country has been one that tried, through the years, to encourage virtue, valor and excellence, and to have them rewarded. The United States is not the only country in the world where those ideals and goals are to be found, for sure. But I have come to believe that, as with many other activities of our lives, there is a characteristically American way of doing things in the pursuit of those values. We simply don't do things the way other peoples do them. And that may be one of the reasons why we have some difficulty understanding folks from other lands and why they have trouble understanding us.

Many years ago I listened to a speech given by the Managing Editor of The New York Times. During the speech he talked about a meeting he had with the Managing Editor of The London Times, of London, England. They were two of the most important men of two of the most important newspapers of the world. They were having lunch.

The Editor of The London Times described his career. He was born into the right upper middle class family. He went to the best schools. Then on to Cambridge University where he achieved a graduate degree in journalism. His entry level at the Times was a desk job with some minor production responsibility. But he gradually worked his way up to eventually become the Managing Editor, the kind of position his birth and education assured him he was destined for.

Then The New York Times Editor told the story of his life. He was born into a lower class Jewish family in New York City, educated in the public schools and eventually at City College of New York, where he went on to get a degree in journalism. His entry level job at the NY Times was running copy around, cleaning out news bins and occasional proof reading. But he gradually worked his way through all the departments, gaining experience of how the newspaper was run and learning what his contributions could be. He took on some minor and then major writing assignments. And then one day he emerged as the Managing Editor.

Their backgrounds could hardly have been different: the wealthy boy from England and the poor boy from New York. And yet there they were Managing Editors of two International Newspapers.

When the Englishman heard the New Yorker's story he said "Only in America."

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
***************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 266

2012-01-26T10:51:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #266 "If you can fix it, fix it. If you can't fix it, live with it until you can." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Go Crazy

2012-01-26T00:00:00.003-05:00

Only exceptionally rational men can afford to be absurd.

Allan Goldfein
******************
Hello Stuart
******************
"O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven! I would not be mad."
Shakespeare.

There is no madness that isn't firmly grounded in reason. True craziness can only come from a sound mind. Only the logical thinker is truly insane. It takes daily inspiration to be a practicing lunatic. The goal of all learning is authoritative silliness. Only a rational man can provide any genuine nonsense,

Take flying, for example. Why would anyone in their right mind stuff themselves into a metal tube, on a seat that is probably too small and hard, to be thrown through the air at an inhuman speed to get to an airport which probably takes almost as long to get out of as it took to get there?

And space flight? Even worse. You are tucked, tied, plugged and lashed into clothing that doesn't fit any human body, just to be able to enter a totally hostile environment, and then to be strapped into a small space awaiting a blast from a rocket that will thrust you as far away from home as it can. That's not crazy?

Now let's take sports. Baseball. One adult throws a ball at another adult who tries to hit it back with a stick. Meanwhile seven other adults stand around hoping for something to do. Basketball. Adults chase each other around a large room and jump up and down, arm pit to face, after another ball. Football. Adults chase each other around and knock each other down, passionately trying to get their hands on a ball. A what? Yes, a ball. Nonsense.

Incidentally, football games all have half time shows. But none of the TV Networks that broadcast the games will ever show you those. They act as if the game had to stop for a half hour because some other group had booked the field and that we. the viewers, are much more interested in watching guys who don't know as much as they think they do, discuss the game we've just been watching, than to see some expert cheerleaders and marching bands perform a well prepared entertainment. Madness.

Now let's take the arts. Otherwise intelligent people will paint their faces, put on clothes, that might fit, and go out in front of other smart people and present a piece of total fiction as if it was reality. And when they're finished those otherwise smart people beat their hands together. Seriously.

A symphony orchestra has musicians who play most of the time and others who hardly play at all. The harpist almost never plays. Isn't there something else she could be doing, ironing some shirts or spending time in the nursery taking care of the children of the other musicians. And the guy in the percussion section who's only job is to play the triangle in the last movement. Why doesn't he go check on the furnace or something, instead of sitting around in his tuxedo for an hour. Ridiculous.

There are times in out lives when we eject the clear light of reason and do things that are purely absurd. We go chasing after other people. We stand or sit watching other people do silly things. Or we put ourselves in ridiculous circumstances for the sake of something we think we want.

And it's a good thing we do, for if we didn't we might all go "mad."

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 265

2012-01-25T10:15:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #265 "Only those who know the struggles can know the rewards." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

How to fix a computer

2012-01-25T00:01:00.003-05:00

If you think you can do a thing or think you can't do a thing, you're right.

Henry Ford
*********************
Hello George
**********************
Tools needed : A screwdriver.
OK, I've got that.
----------------------
Step One: Turn off the computer
Done
--------------------------------
Step Two: Unplug everything
OK, but how am I going to remember what's what?
-----------------------------
Step Three: Remove the cover by loosening the screw
The screw won't budge. The screwdriver doesn't move it. The pliers don't move it either. The wrench finally makes it move a tiny bit. So I keep at it with the wrench and finally it's loose enough for the pliers and then the screwdriver. So much for the "tools needed."
-----------------------------------
Step Four: Carefully remove the cover by sliding it to the right.
As I do that the cover falls off into my lap
---------------------------------
Step Five: Lift the cover away from the computer
The cover is in my lap, I told you
----------------------------------------
Step Six: Pull the tabs that hold the bezel, then release the bezel
What the hell is a bezel
---------------------------------
Step Seven: Swing the bezel out to remove it
It's a swinging bezel
---------------------------
Step Eight: Locate the ODD at the top of the computer
Is this it?
----------------------------------------
Step Nine: Remove the screws that fasten the ODD to the computer
Screws? I can only find one. I hope that's it
-----------------------------------------------
Step Ten: Push the ODD THING sightly forward
You're kidding
-----------------------------
Step Eleven: Remove cables 1 and 2 by squeezing their latches and pulling them out
OK, I squeezed their little latches and pulled them out. This is beginning to sound slightly salacious
-----------------------------
Step Twelve: Pull the ODD THING out through the front of the computer
Done. Now I have an ODD THING in my hands. What should I do?
-----------------------------------
Step Thirteen: Rest, another cup of coffee, a cigarette.
Good idea
----------------------------------
Step Fourteen: Push the new Odd Thing part way into the computer
I don't know which is the top of the new odd thing because I forgot to check it when I took the old odd thing out.
----------------------------------------
Step Fifteen: Reconnect cables 1 and 2 to the back
Sometime during my rest period one of the cable heads grew or the port got smaller. Because number 2 went right in but number 1 doesn't fit anymore. Maybe I was too rough squeezing her little latch
---------------------------------
Step Sixteen: Align the odd screw holes with the other screw holes
! ! ! ! ! ?
----------------------------------
Step Seventeen: Replace the odd screws
Of which there was only one
---------------------------
Step Eighteen : Align the left side of the bezel and swing it toward the computer
Oh, here we go with the swinging bezel again. Are you sure a bezel isn't something you buy in a Jewish deli?
------------------------------------------
Step Nineteen: Insert the tabs into the slots and slide the cover forward
The one that has been in my lap, you mean?
------------------------------------------
Step Twenty: Reattach the screw at the back of the computer
This is the one that required a wrench to open. I'm going to treat this one with the respect it deserves
--------------------------------------
Step Twenty one: Reconnect all the cables
Right, if i can remember where they go
---------------------------------------
Step Twenty two: Turn on the computer
"Your computer is unable to turn on, wait while we check for the difficulty"
No need. I know what the difficulty is. I forgot to turn on the modem.
-----------------------------------
Step Twenty three: Verify the new Odd Thing is operating correctly
It is.
------------------------
Step Twenty four: Rest, you've done it
Gladly
-------------------------
Estimated time 15 to 20 minutes
Actual time 2 and a half hours
------------------------------------

DB, The Exhausted Vagabond
Never Give Up
****************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 264

2012-01-24T12:59:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #264 "It is possible for us to do things we can't possibly do." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Me. Myself and I

2012-01-24T00:00:00.002-05:00

Have the courage to go inside and illuminate and reveal things about yourself.

Sherilyn Fenn
*******************
Hello Stuart
*******************
"Come now, consider thy ways. " (Haggai 1:5)

I am unknown by almost everyone.
Admired by a few.
Resented by many.
Hated by some.
Perhaps loved by one or two.
I was cursed by poverty in an early age.
I was blessed to have spent my life in the arts.
I have been homeless.
I spent a night in jail.
I have a sense of humor.
I don't smile much.
I have loved deeply.
I'm possessive.
I am capable of great deeds.
I am responsible for great mistakes.
I am self educated.
I admit to not knowing things I don't know.
I speak the truth.
I lie.
I face with courage the challenges of life.
I am bewildered by many things.
I live my senior years with thoughts of the future.
Some things confuse me.
I have had my heart broken.
I have let people down.
Most of the time I enjoy being alone.
Sometimes I'm lonely.
I have some good memories of an interesting life.
I have a lot of regrets.
I am fairly self confident at home.
I am bashful and awkward in public.
I have been in many places I wasn't supposed to be.
I have done many things I wasn't qualified to do.
I have done many things well.
I have done some things poorly.
I think I am basically a good man.
I'm struggling to understand myself.

In short, I am a human being.
-------------------------------

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never give up.
***********************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 263

2012-01-23T14:18:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #263 "The books scattered all around my apartment are the branches of a tree reaching out in all directions for the nourishing light."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

Reaching The Star

2012-01-23T00:01:00.003-05:00

If you have built your castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.

Thoreau
***************
Hello Mark
***************
Every great achievement of the human being has begun with a dream, a magical day dream, an impossible dream, a castle in the air, a "pie in the sky." And along with the dream sometimes comes hope. The unfortunate thing is that often it stops with hope, with a big maybe, but with the depressing idea that whatever it is isn't possible, so forget it.

When all the blather, bluster, ideologies and idiocies have passed into history and basically forgotten, what will be known to be the really important description of the 20th Century? I think it will be space travel. In the last hundred years we have witnessed the emergence of aircraft as the most popular form of transportation for long trips in short periods of time. And the hundred years were topped off by space travel, men and women flying into outer space, and living there. The International Space Station - the castle in the sky, as Thoreau put it.

We have seen men walking on the moon. It was an impossible dream for many centuries. That is something, I think, should be considered and never forgotten about. How many millions of people. for thousands of years, have stared up at the moon and wondered what it would be like to be there. All of it was accomplished by those with the intelligence and imagination to build the foundations under it. Many said it was impossible for man to go to the moon. If we can walk on the moon we can walk on other planets. Anything is possible to the one who, like Don Quixote, puts his armor on, takes his spear, saddles up and chases after the star.

To dream the impossible dream ...
To fight the unbeatable foe ...
To bear with unbearable sorrow ...
To run where the brave dare not go ...
To right the unrightable wrong ...
To love pure and chaste from afar ...
To try when your arms are too weary ...
To reach the unreachable star ...
(Joe Darion)

There are hundreds of reasons why a thing can't be done. There is one good one for why it can, and that's the doing of it. Someone once said "Imagination is intelligence having fun." No matter how difficult and sorrowing it is, no matter how hostile the territory, no matter how long it takes, don't fold your dream up and tuck it into the bureau drawer. Leave it lying around, underfoot, in your way. And sooner or later your imagination will grab onto the right foundations to make it be. The impossible dream is yours, so is the unreachable star.

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
***************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 262

2012-01-22T15:55:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #262 "The artist lives inside his work until it's done, after that he becomes a visitor."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

Buried Treasure

2012-01-22T00:03:00.002-05:00

There is no easy road to freedom.

Nelson Mandela
********************
Hello Sandy
*********************
Once you set out on the troublesome and unpredictable waters of life you will never reach a destination if you turn back to the safety of the port. It's the trepidation of facing new views, it's fear of and animosity toward taking the risks necessary to bring about the freedom we're entitled to that make the road difficult The recidivist urges that hold so many people in bondage, in a static state, comfortable with less than the rough road of progress can supply.

The rewards are rich for those who stick to the road, no matter how many boulders and wild animals appear. And what if freedom is the destination, freedom from oppression, poverty, sickness, fear or ignorance? The attainment of that objective is elation, elevation of one's life. Freedom from means freedom to. Freedom that will never be attained by backing up or standing still.

There are stories of people who have fought their way to freedom from cancer and other diseases, because the alternatives were not acceptable. There are stories of young folks who, at great risk, faced the dangers and freed themselves from kidnappers. There are stories of innocent people who painstakingly freed themselves from prison where they were serving a sentence for a crime they didn't commit. And there re stories of those who freed themselves from poverty and homelessness, even if it took many years. One story I frequently remember is of a woman who was blind and deaf, who came out of the ghetto, to earn a graduate degree is Psychology from a New York City University.

Life. No one ever said it was easy. But it's a pointless life if one sits in the port and complains about the weather instead of launching out into the rain and wind with courage, a noble purpose, a progressive goal and drawing the map to the buried treasure as you go.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*****************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 261

2012-01-21T09:56:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #261 "Survival is often difficult to achieve, but it's not as hard as to know why." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Make Peace

2012-01-21T00:01:00.002-05:00

Mankind is becoming a single unit, and that for a single unit to fight against itself is suicide.

Havelock Ellis
********************
Hello George
********************
Is the human race gradually committing suicide? It might seem that way from a wide perspective. There is always some war going on somewhere on the globe. The more guns there are the more people will be shot and killed. The more weapons of war there are the more soldiers and civilians will die. The more weapons of mass destruction there are the more massive numbers of people will be wiped out.

Leaders and politicians of many lands are eager to make war. For as Erasmus said "War is sweet to those who have never experienced it." There are many reasons why people wage war. Revenge, ancient grudges, irrational hatred, possessiveness of land and it's resources are some of them. Ethnic and religious differences, suspicion, fear and tyranny are others. Whatever they are, bundle them all together and there is a recipe for destruction, killing, wounding, cruelty, mayhem and chaos. They are all the reasons for the suicidal actions of men and nations in a world where cooperation, compassion and understanding are the only tools for survival.

There is an unbroken line from the playground bully to the hydrogen bomb. The more people realize that, the more careful they will be to stem violence at whatever level they find it. If the unjust and violent win worldwide suicide is inevitable.

These words of mine are not new. They have been uttered for centuries, since before it was even possible to blow up the whole earth, as it is today. Who heeds them? There is a worldwide madness that keeps building more and better destroying machines and methods. Why don't those who say "Stop. What are you doing?" have the podium, instead of the justifiers, excusers and profiteers. There are too many super rich who make their millions from building weapons, and as long as nations will buy those weapons they're in business to make more.

Of what value are we as human beings if our story is the History of War? And if the final chapter of that story is that we finally and ultimately erase ourselves from the planet, leaving it to the ants, cockroaches and mosquitoes, what a waste. The insects care nothing for our borders, armies, monuments and museums.

Valor, courage and bravery are great qualities wherever they are found. But there is no glory in winning a Peace Prize if there is still no peace. And of what value is a Medal of Honor on the chest of someone who lost a leg in a road side bomb?

There is a civil war going on in this country. It isn't between the liberals and the conservatives, it isn't between the rich and the poor. On one side are those who want to do violence, to make war, on the battle field, the football field or the play ground, and those who sit back and give them permission to do it. Who's on the other side?

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
***********************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 260

2012-01-20T11:05:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #260 "Oh, would that my energy equaled my time."
dbdacoba@aol.com

Shopping Carts

2012-01-20T00:05:00.001-05:00

Challenge is a dragon with a gift in its mouth. Tame the dragon and the gift is yours.

Noela Evans
*******************
Hello Stuart
*******************
Doesn't it seem to you as if the world is full of dragons and other fantastic beasts threatening our peace, our freedom and sometimes our lives? It does to me. History can be described as the carcases of former challenges that we have left behind us, littering the otherwise clear, straight trail of our lives. The challenge is always about who owns the path and who has the right to tread it.

I had a remarkable experience today. The law of averages must have broken down in the local supermarket. The place was packed with people and everyone had a shopping cart. The aisles are wide enough for two carts to narrowly pass each other if it's done carefully. But it isn't if there are clerks stocking the shelves, which there were in every aisle. I made my way with my cart through all the aisles around people who were examining merchandise and children trying to decide which cereal they wanted, and everywhere the frequent push cart full of goods being put on the shelves. The remarkable thing is that for the 45 minutes I was maneuvering around the place there wasn't one single act of rudeness or selfishness. Everyone was making way for everyone else and being pleasant about it.

How infrequently is that type of behavior seen? No, we have road rage. We have just read about people pushing and shoving each other to get on a life boat. As I wrote about recently, there even are people who seem to go out of their way to make life difficult for others. We have too much "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." and "I am woman hear me roar."

The fables that show up on our paths, the fire breathing dragons, the ugly, stinking swamp creatures or the talking worms, seem to bring out the worst in people. Do battle, slay the dragon, be rude to the person on the phone who is not responsible for whatever is wrong, be rude to the customer, don't give them an inch, if they are in your way with their shopping cart make them back up and get out of your way.

The great realization, the great gift, is to learn that the dragon is tamable. If you slay the dragon you never get that gift. Everyone seems to be out for revenge, to teach the world a lesson "I'm important and you're not." But the person is truly gifted who can calmly face the challenges, defuse the rage and not take revenge, who can be at one with the world around him, who can look out for other people, their needs and their safety and who can remind himself at every turn in the road that selfishness is a dragon to be tamed.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
**************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 258

2012-01-19T14:08:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #258 "No matter how much you learn, you can't learn enough."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

Vagabondsism 257

2012-01-17T10:22:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #257 "It's a good idea, if possible, to own the bed you sleep in."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

Where's America?

2012-01-17T00:02:00.003-05:00

I hope these babies have a world to live in. I hope they have a place to go, a land to walk on.

Cass Elliot
************************
Hello Mark
************************
After the couple bought the house and moved in the first thing they did was plow up the back yard garden and put in a tennis court.

A fellow down the street planted a modest cherry tree in his yard. Then someone from the neighborhood association came to tell him that their rules didn't allow trees in the front yards, so he dug it up and moved it to his small back yard. Then they complained about the dirt spot on his lawn, so he bought some grass. But it didn't grow very well.

In another place the developers came in, bull dozed down all the maple trees, put in a road, built a row of houses and called in Maple Lane.

Do you remember that beautiful meadow down by the lake, where the birds and insects and other critters used to fly and romp around, where the kids loved to play? Well it's now a golf course.

A couple bought a sea side cottage where they used to come and spend the summer together. But one year, when they got there, they found a four tier parking garage right next to their property.

They filled in the wetlands and built a shopping mall.

That charming book store on Main Street is gone. It got converted into an XXX rated adult book and video joint.

They closed the Post Office. It's now a fast food place. And the soft ball field where we used to play is now a used car lot and a few other things. A junk yard I think. The museum is still here, but it's always closed.

When the government decommissioned some of the natural parks the developers came in and set up look alike homes, with cul de sacs, (to help solve the housing shortage).

Another couple, having raised 4 kids, bought a big spread out west, where they could retire, take it easy, sit and look across their land at the meadows and the mountains in the distance. But they didn't know they didn't own what was under the land until the energy company arrived with trucks, back hoes, derricks and drills.

It was a beautiful mountain, a favorite place for hikers and climbers. Too bad they had to make a strip mine out of it.

I hear they're going to fill in that lake you live next to and build a prison.
---------------------
What happened to America? Where did it go?

**************
DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
***********************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 256

2012-01-16T15:21:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #256 "If you don't learn from your mistakes you don't deserve to make any."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

The King's Day

2012-01-16T00:01:00.003-05:00

A man can't ride your back unless it's bent.

Martin Luther King, Jr.
************************
Hello Ken
************************
Today we celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr., a man who taught the world a great many important lessons.

It is a dangerous thing to speak the truth. When you speak the truth you expose the liars, and the liars don't like that. They will try to shut you up one way or another. Even if it's with a bullet.

It's a dangerous thing to speak wisdom. When you speak wisdom you expose the ignorant, and the ignorant don't like that. They would prefer not to listen to you, that's what makes them ignorant. They will dismiss you with stupid remarks like "Whatever" and "Suit yourself."

King faced a lot of liars and a lot of ignorance in his life. But one of the great lessons he taught us, and me in particular, was to stand up straight and strong and never quit.

He was also the champion of non violent protest. "Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation" he said. When he talked about non violence in the face of the aggression of the racists, it seemed to many as an impossible idea. But the idea has swept down through the years and is still being practiced, because it worked.

When he spoke calmly and persistently to the racist the man might still falsely believe that the black man was inferior, but he had to concede that the black man was still being denied his Constitutionally guaranteed rights. And eventually 100,000 people showed up in Washington, DC to agree.

The Equal Rights idea soon began to flow out into many directions. It was seen how those of other ethnic groups are also victims of prejudice and denial. The handicapped, the old, even the young are being unfairly treated by society.

After King's tragic passing the Civil Rights movement got very political, fractionalized and split. Each corner seemed to have a speaker on the subject and various fruitless plans were formed and attempted. But a few groups were formed, like the Southern Poverty Law Center and the American Civil Liberties Union (which some people don't like because they don't understand it) that kept the lines clear to the Law and the Constitution.

But those organizations and others like them are patiently, calmly and non aggressively speaking the truth. Because once the orators, preachers, theorists and self servers had run out of energy and gone, the words of King remained. As he said "Ten thousand fools proclaim themselves into obscurity, while one wise man forgets himself into immortality."

The battle is still going on in our mud stuck society. There are too many old ideas trying to shove aside and shackle new ones. The best way to fight is to stand tall, strong and calm, address ignorance with truth, and provide whatever wisdom you have, with imagination, even if the world thinks you're insane.

"Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted."
(Martin Luther King, Jr.)

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

Guest Author 13

2012-01-15T00:07:00.000-05:00

Guest Author #13

AFTER THE SMILING

Did it ever matter if you got sleep the night before Christmas? Not for us as youthful innocents, we barely hit the pillows before the sunrise woke us to rush downstairs and rip open every single carefully wrapped package we could find. It just didn't last long enough, and memories fade with time ...

Now at 61, after smiling all through December, I can feel the new wrinkles sinking into my face, and I don't care one bit. There's nothing I really get excited about during Christmas, there are too many other things, more substantial and less "religious" I've come to love: The Solstice, Yule Tide, Deis Natalis Invictus Solis (Victory of the Unconquered Sun) Mistlemas, Saturnalia, so many true pagan feasts our ancestors would celebrate in serious fashion. Nothing cheerful about it, they were heading into the season of cold, starvation, sadness and superstition. It's a field of study I always enriched myself in, and still able to respect the rituals of Christmas.

Nothing can change what's happened in this season of family gatherings and too much to eat. Words long left unsaid suddenly pour out in guilty fashion, and old wounds are opened. Sooner or later someone demands we attend a Catholic Mass, as we were all raised in the Roman way. Yet it's so unfulfilling to worship this way. I believe the man Jesus was real, he was born and died, and affected many. It was years before a cult of Christians was formed and spread across the globe. Yet long before, we had Saturnalia, the Roman feast of sharing and good will. We had the Yule Tide, the giving of gifts - mostly food. There was the ritual of worshipping the sun, the great orb that gave light and warmth when it was so needed.

After the smiling, I reflect on what we're on this planet for. All I can deduce is that we're here for each other, we're alive to help one another navigate this ocean of storms which can be so wonderful, magical, wondrous and the only life we have. After this, who knows? Will there be a place to celebrate, gather, share, love?

I smile at the thought.

Cathy Rapicano

**********************
**********************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 13 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 255

2012-01-14T13:30:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #255 "The only thing worse than a closed book is a closed mind. They seem to go together."
dbdacoba@aol.com

Untimely Understanding

2012-01-14T00:03:00.002-05:00

Time is but a ship that bears thee, not thy home.

Unknown
********************

Oh God! methinks it were a happy life,
To be no better than homely swain;
To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
To carve out dials quaintly, point to point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run,
How many make the hour full complete;
How many hours bring about the day;
How many days will finish up the year;
How many years a mortal man may live.
When this is done, then to divide the times:
So many hours must I tend my flock;
So many hours must I take my rest;
So many hours must I contemplate;
So many hours must I sport myself;
So many days my ewes have been with young;
So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean;
So many years ere I shall shear the fleece:
So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.

(Shakespeare)
_________________________

Time is a mortal measurement, a human idea. We measure it by space, how long it takes something to go from one place to another in comparison with how long it takes another object to do the same. The universe does not concern itself with time.

Why shouldn't the church bell ring 13? Because we have determined that a day is 2 sets of 12, 7 of those make a week and 52 of those make a year. But it's inaccurate, which is why we have to have the paradox of a leap year now and then, like this year. Why doesn't the earth revolve around the sun according to the nice neat pattern we have determined for it? Because the solar system does not concern itself with time.

People look through crystal telescopes at what they say is the past, stars which no longer exist but are only now announcing their light to us, because they were so many billion light years away, also a human measurement. Another person looks through a crystal ball at what he says is the future and what he sees is a projection of the unconscious thoughts that already exist in his mind.

The philosopher Hans Jonas was fond of citing the Psalmist's prayer "Teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom." That statement implies that the information is already known. The obverse side suggests that Jonas wanted to know how many hours of daylight he had to accomplish what he wanted to do in life. The reverse side may suggest that he wanted to know when the moment would be that he would surrender his "white hairs unto a quiet grave."

I have a seed I picked up off a grassy field with some tall trees in it. The seed is about the size of a golf ball, A botanist I know looked at it, told me what kind of a tree it came from and then explained that everything about that tree was already contained in the seed. The seed knows how tall the tree will grow, what it will look like, haw many branches it will have, how many twigs, how many leaves it will put out and how long it will live. Barring any unforeseen events from man or nature, the future of the tree already exists in the present seed.

So we can measure water levels, pollen counts, wind chill factors, topical storm categories and measure out our lives "in coffee spoons" (T. S. Eliot) or by any other means only to find that nature is rudely indifferent and uninterested in our efforts. The sun and the earth identify themselves to each other, The moon talks to the ocean, the flowers listen to the sun. The ground welcomes the rain when it comes. The birds migrate when they get together and decide to. And we, with our rulers, scales and "dials," are simply eavesdroppers in this cosmic conversation.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
(never give up)
**********************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 254

2012-01-13T12:06:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #254 "Life throws its blessings on us with the same hand it throws its trash." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Strings Attached

2012-01-13T00:08:00.001-05:00

A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit and a violin; what else does a man need to be happy.

Albert Einstein
******************
Hello Rose
******************
What a strange musical instrument the violin is. It's an oddly shaped box that doesn't really fit the human who plays it. He has to hold one end under his chin, while the fingers of his left hand have to curl around under the other end and press themselves down on the strings while he's holding it up. The other hand holds a bow which he then saws back and forth across the strings to make them vibrate. A violin, to look at it, makes no sense at all.

It's a torturing, unforgiving instrument if it isn't played right. And yet untallied thousands have been learning and playing it for hundreds of years. Why? Because the sounds that come out of it can be as beautiful as any sound in the universe, the infinite degrees of expression come directly from the heart, it's resonance can fill a concert hall and in harmony with other instruments can produce a lush and shimmering sound of unearthly bliss.

Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl
And he called for his fiddlers three.
(Traditional)

I spent many good years trying to learn how to play the violin and finally had to concede the job to others as I really had no talent for it. My violin playing annoyed my neighbors and set the local dogs to howling. Even my cat, who was usually an objective, patient sort, when she saw the violin come out would jump down from wherever she was and run off to hide in some secret place and not reappear until well after the noise had ceased. (Years later I discovered, quite by accident, that I had a talent for playing the clarinet. But that's a different story.)

Another thing about the violin is it's versatility. It is the largest crowd to be found on the concert stage, of course. But it also plays it's parts very well in popular music, jazz, and folk music. Unlike the bass violin, the tuba, the piano and the pipe organ, the violin is easy to transport (although these days a master violinist with a million dollar Stradivarius will definitely approach the check-in area of a TSA with a great deal of concern). But most of the time, in most places, the fiddle is a great companion.

I'll tune me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow
And I'll have music wherever I go.
(Irish folk song)

I'm sorry I never learned to play the violin, for as Pope Paul VI recalled, "The older the fiddler, the sweeter the tune."

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
*************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 253

2012-01-12T11:58:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #253 "How can you tough it out if there is no out?
How can you see it through to the end if there is no end?
How can you stick with it until you get there if there is no there?"
dbdacoba@aol.com

What's So Funny?

2012-01-12T00:01:00.004-05:00

In the time of your life, live - so that in that wondrous time you shall not add to the misery and sorrow of the world, but shall smile to the infinite variety and mystery of it.

William Saroyan
**********************
Hello Sandy
**********************
It seems that some people get started out in the wrong direction early on in life and grow up to be those who take delight in putting other people down and laughing at it as if it's a clever joke. We all know these people. They walk among us. I hope you're not one of them.

The strangest part of that reptilian behavior is that some of them expect the person who is suffering from some act of mischief, disrespect or cruelty to appreciate the joke and laugh along with the perpetrator.

I knew such a man when I was a teenager. Unfortunately he was the father of my best friend at the time. As a result whenever I was visiting I had to listen to his stories of how delighted he was to have stolen something from someone, or humiliated someone or forced someone into an embarrassing situation. He shared this information with me and his family expecting praise. He seemed like a nice, intelligent gentleman in every other way. Because he was my friend's father I could never register any criticism of his behavior. I don't know if my friend grew up to be the same way. We lost contact after high school.

I lived in an apartment building that had three washers and two driers in the basement. There was one tenant who, if he saw someone was waiting to use one of the driers would divide up his wash and use both driers so that whoever it was would have to wait longer. He would laugh. He was about 10 years old, so no one was going to smack him the face as they should have

I knew a man who, whenever he came to a parking space large enough for two cars to park there easily, would park in the middle so no one else could use it. If you questioned him about it he would smile and say "Let them find their own space."

These aren't street people or gangsters but ordinary people you might meet every day and not recognize any villainy in them.

The underlying question is how much enjoyment do those people really get out of life. How could anyone have any friends with that kind of behavior? Aren't they aware of their dismal spirits and that they are making a societal mess which the rest of us have to clean up with helpfulness, compassion and neighborliness? Evidently not. And the sad thing is if they were to get past this peculiar form of madness they might see a wholly different world, a world where the laughter is because of harmony, love and appreciation of other people's variety, a world where life is not abuse or humiliation. There is a world of enjoyment to be had if one is not stuck in the rut of making misery, of making a goal out of putting people down.

Marian Anderson said "As long as you keep a person down, some part of you has to be down there."

One evening I beat my friend's father in a game of chess. I didn't expect to do that but I did. And Guess what? I did not laugh at him for losing. Did he learn a lesson? Probably not.

DB - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

A new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain or the Confused. Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 252

2012-01-11T11:05:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #252 "You are a light in the firmament. Nothing can obstruct, dim or deflect the blessings you have for the world."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

Happy Trails

2012-01-11T00:00:00.004-05:00

If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.

Thomas Edison
********************
Hello Jon
********************
I am what's known, or what should be known, as a "raw actor."

I think it's a grand thing for people to have a comfortable life style, to live in a nice home, to have friends they can relate to, to be in a community that suits them, to have the books and music they love and their favorite TV programs. It's a good thing to live a comfortable life and not feel confined or deprived.

Ascribe it to the cat like curiosity I was born with, the plunge into poverty in my childhood, my vagabond life, a certain brand of claustrophobia, a sense of adventure or the necessity of doing things I was unqualified to do in order to make a living. All of those must bear some responsibility for shaping me.

That we are all capable of more than we do is a truism. No one who is even mildly aware of themselves would deny it. During my life, whenever I have had the opportunity to pass that wisdom along to others, and in some cases to be specific about it, I've taken it, especially to a youngster in Junior High School.

I have a catalogue of things I've done that I was told I couldn't do. During my brief appearance in the hallowed halls of college, I walked into the theatre department, took an audition and got cast in the major role, which may have annoyed some drama students, I don't know. I went on the win Best Actor of the Year Award and Best Freshman Actor of the Year Award in the same year.

I never learned to sing or dance but I performed in musical comedy and did both. I never took a piano lesson yet I walked into a modern dance class and accompanied the dancers and even wrote music for them. I taught myself to play the drums and became a jazz drummer.

I walked into the Art Students League in New York and learned how to draw the human figure. I never took a painting class but now I'm a painter. I flunked my Freshman Philosophy class because it was boring. Now I'm fascinated with the subject. I flunked my Freshman English class because it was even more boring and now I write every day. So I left college without a degree and went on to teach peopled who were getting one.

One day I performed in a play for a Junior High School in a mid Atlantic State. I had also composed a musical score for the play. After the performance, during questions, it was asked what the music meant. Various opinions were given. As we were packing up to leave a boy come over to the stage and said what he thought the music meant and his answer was just about perfect. But then he said he was probably wrong because he was told there were certain things he was incapable of understanding. I asked him who told him that. He said it was the school. I jumped off the stage and went over to him. I said "Never again let anyone tell you you can't understand something. You are right about the music. Don't doubt yourself."

I followed complicated mountain trails to find out where they went. I follow the complex thinking of a philosopher to find out where it leads him. If I could ever afford a key board I would compose more music. I haven't astounded myself yet, but maybe I will some day. Who knows?

I never took any formal training as an actor, but I spent my working life as an actor. Raw talent, desire, a sense of adventure, or standing on the edge of a cliff and wondering what it would be like to fly?

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*******************************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for me.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 251

2012-01-10T16:44:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #251 "Some day, somehow, I will find my way home again."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

The Equation

2012-01-10T00:01:00.003-05:00

I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.

Umberto Eco
********************
"Life's perhaps the only riddle that we shrink from giving up."
(W. S. Gilbert)

Umberto Eco is a great novelist in my opinion. I've read "The Name of the Rose" and "Foucault's Pendulum" (twice). I don't read many novels. But I do read a lot of philosophy, history, psychology and science. Novelists can invent the universe to suit themselves. Philosophers and historians can't. They can only engage in the "mad attempt" to interpret the universe. It is those attempts that make life interesting for me.,

One philosopher attempts to describe the history of the human race through etymology, another through the growth and search for food, another from the perspective of religious beliefs. The future of mankind is perceived in the test tube, or the telescope. Destiny, tautology, or transfiguration. Is the next era defined by robotics or the development of nutrition, or both?

Hanging over the head of all this scholarship is a dilemma. Is there a final answer? Is there a universal law, a universal panacea, a universal equation that explains everything and makes it go away?

It may be a futile search for that "underlying truth" but it is also a "riddle that we shrink from giving up." As long as the search goes on there will be those who write about it, and they are the ones who keep me up at night.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*********************
This invitation is still open for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on any subject you wish or associate with this new year.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB - The Vagabond
***************************

Vagabondism 250

2012-01-09T14:01:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #250 "A true philosopher sets out to discover a truth, not to prove an opinion." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

When Moloch Wins

2012-01-09T00:01:00.003-05:00

Government is too big and important to be left to the politicians.

Chester Bowles
*******************
Hello Lily
*******************
It's all a matter of worship. We are the modern day children of Israel. So the so called Christians, Jews, Muslims and others had better pay attention to what Moses is telling us.

"Whoever he be of the children of Israel, or of the strangers that sojourn in Israel, that giveth any of his seed to Moloch; he shall surely be put to death: the people of the land shall stone him with stones." (Leviticus 20:2)

Moloch was an ancient god who, in some cultures, required the sacrifice of children. How many of our seeds: our ideas, thoughts, faiths, beliefs, practices, prejudices, actions, present, future, freedoms, rights, our children, are we sacrificing to the modern day Moloch? And who is this modern day Moloch? Allen Ginsberg tells us.

"Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!

Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!"

How many of our seeds, our reason, compassion, understanding, humanity and love, our future and our children's future must we heave onto the smoking alter of this modern Moloch and it's priests, the politicians, wearing the putrid robes of false progress? How long will we worship this false god whom we call God, or Right, or Truth, before we go reaching for the stones, the words, the revolt?

They are not long in coming, the days of destruction. No Rapture, no Judgement Day from Heaven, no earth wide earth quake, no aliens from outer space. Just the ultimate piracy of the rich and powerful, the point of no return, the critical mass, the moment when Moloch wins and swallows up all the intangible beauties and true values that we used to have.

DB - Vagabond Journeys

Never Give Up

***************************

Vagabondism 249

2012-01-08T14:54:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #249 "The echoes of forgotten words have been absorbed by the hills, catalogues of shame and honor."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

When The Dancing Stopped

2012-01-08T00:01:00.003-05:00

The ability to see beauty is the beginning of our moral sensibility.

Sean Dennison
****************
Hello Stuart
****************
I lived and worked in a city for three years whose major and almost only enterprise was insurance, banking and investment. That city had one of the best art museums in the country and almost no one went to it. I would go frequently because some of the world's greatest works were housed there. It was the only place on earth where one could see them. And every time I went I had some of the rooms all to myself.

There was little support or appreciation of art in that city and it showed. The powerful men in the city were completely focused on money and not much else.

We hear a lot about morals in America these days, the moral high ground, restoring the American ethic and so on. But the actions don't match the talk. There was one CEO of a large corporation who proclaimed that he never gave a dollar to any cultural cause, never would and he was proud of it. With that kind of ignorance the moral landscape of American is bare and desolate.

There are universities in this country that will close down their art departments and pour money into their football teams.

I know of a high school that wouldn't allow plays to be produced because it was too much of a drain on the electric bill, and yet the lights blazed even brighter for every basketball game.

Now we have a presidential candidate who brazen claims that if he is President he will close down the National Endowment for the Arts. To do that would be a fiercely negative and destructive thing for this country. But to stand up in public and make that promise is so monumentally stupid that man should quickly withdraw himself from the campaign and any further attempt to be considered a good American.

The arts in this country, as in any country, provide the dialogue between character and future. Art defines the spirit of our nation. It points to what is unknown and needed. It repairs. It supports. It gives voice to the struggles and achievements of our people. It tells the truth. It shows us beauty. It leads to the fountains of sensibility. It increases our moral awareness. It provides the ideas and impressions which raise the level of mentality. It makes better people.

If the arts disappear, or fall into the hands of corporate sponsorship with its confining rules and low standards, the United States is lost.

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

Vagabondism 248

2012-01-07T10:31:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #248 "I'm just a candle in the darkness lit by another's flame. He who is truly enlighened shines with his own flame needing neither match nor wick."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

Sit Up And Take Notice

2012-01-07T00:01:00.001-05:00

Music never repeats itself.

Daniel Barenboim
******************
Hello Holly
******************
Just as in nature it is almost impossible to find pure symmetry. Perhaps it can be found in a bubble, or can be seen in butterfly wings. But even in the repetitious scales of some reptiles the pattern changes with the changing anatomy and movements of the animal. So in art there are many things that have the appearance of repeating patterns and symmetry.

I have a photograph of a brick path. Along both sides of the path there are small trees in pots evenly spaced to provide an edge to the path. Though all the trees are the same height, no matter how much shaping and pruning the gardener does he cannot make them identical. To the casual observer they may all look alike, but to the careful eye of someone else, each tree takes on its own personality and beauty.

"Music never repeats itself." The musical notes on the page are always the same for any printed piece of music. But when it is put in front of a musician it will become even more alive than those trees. And whether he plays it ill or well its life is momentary. Every time he plays it the experience will be different. Even a piece of music that is recorded will have a different experience for the listener every time it's heard. You may even hear a difference when it is played on a different record player. And when the same piece is played by another musician the experience is new and different even though the notes on the page haven't changed. You may have a favorite recording of some music that you love and have taken for granted. One day you will stop and listen again because you suddenly heard something different you didn't know was there, some movement of a muscle in the music you thought you'd never heard before.

These things happen because music is the most basic human art form there is. There is a direct link between music and human thoughts and emotions.

But one can also have the same sit up and pay attention with art and poetry.

I have a favorite painting at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Whenever I went to the museum, for whatever reason, I always made it a point to go and spend some time with that picture, and whenever I did it had more to say to me, like an endless conversation that picked up where it left off even if a year had intervened. You may have such a picture hanging on your wall from which one day something will emerge that you never paid attention to before, that you thought you never saw.

I like to say that I don't read books, I eat them. I love going back over the same great literature I've read before simply because even though the words on the page, like the notes in a musical score, haven't changed, somehow it's a brand new book. Once through the book or poem is an adventure. The next time through is a different adventure.

The endless, ever changing life of great art is one of the joys of human existence.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
(never give up)
*****************************

Vagabondism 247

2012-01-06T10:48:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #247 "Never give up. Even when you have nothing left, don't give up."
dbdacoba@aol.com

The Campaigners

2012-01-06T00:01:00.003-05:00

You cannot have a proud and chivalrous spirit if your conduct is mean and paltry, for whatever a man's actions are, such must be his spirit.

Demosthenes
*********************
Hello Lora
*********************
Where is the love?

I see a lot of false pride. One is proud to be a Conservative. Another is proud to be a Christian even though he doesn't act like one some of the time. Another is proud to be an American and then tells me all the things that are wrong with America. What's to be proud of? Where's the love?

I see a millionaire tell me of all the programs and systems that have been put in place to help me and other Americans from falling into poverty, homelessness and despair, that he will shut down to save money. Where is the kindness, the compassion? Where is the charity?

I hear from a humorless man about other programs and systems that go to improve the simple American's standard of living that will be shut down to save money. Where is the appreciation of American culture and progress? Where's the love?

I hear sarcasm, anger and hate. I see blame. I see men in suits blame the President for things that aren't his fault. I see them blame each other for things they haven't done yet. I hear spiteful labels put on actions and ideas that are only designed to benefit. I hear Americans blamed for not being what the man in the suit, the millionaire in the suit, thinks they should be. Where is the love?

I see men attacking other men's character and personality. I see men attacking the character, personality and behavior of other Americans, people who don't agree with them. I see venom. I hear the hissing, not to make the country better but to get votes. I see low level trivia and trash. I see the actions of paltry, mean spirited men. Where is the love?

D. Bate - Vagabond
Never Give Up
***********************

Vagabondism 246

2012-01-05T10:44:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #246 "Talent is a slave master." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Roots and Ruts

2012-01-05T00:03:00.002-05:00

We need to think on a broader plane, we need to do more than we're doing.

Siobhan Davies
********************
Hello Arlene
********************
I have roots. I have roots on the Nebraska plains and in the cities of Tennessee. I have roots among the pioneers and in the United States Military. And I have roots in the entertainment industry. Both my mother and my grandmother were performers. I have a distant relative who was a country music singer, he and his band performed at the Grand Ole Opry in the 20's. I have another distant relative who was a general in the Confederate Army during the Civil War. My father was a high ranking officer in the Army and fought in the First World War. He married an actress. I have roots.

It's not unusual for men to follow in their father's footsteps, into a family business or to take up a trade related to where they come from and who their family is. My dentist comes from a long line of dentists, it's like the family business. In some countries it isn't unusual for a son or daughter to take over the reins of government from a father, as we have just seen in North Korea.

It is surely a valuable thing to know what one's roots are, what culture one has come from and how one's ancestors and family lived. But there is another side to that practice. I had a roommate in college for a while who was from India. His father's business was mining: oil and precious metals. His father sent him to the US to study Geology so he could go back to India and assist his father in the business. But when he got to college he changed his major to History. When his father found out he cut off all the funds that were paying for his son's education. The son wanted to branch out, to be a more important person in the Indian government and society, which he eventually did. He didn't want to spend his life digging in the earth for things the way his father had all his life. He wanted to think on a broader plane.

I don't know if he ever harmonized things with his father but his story marks up a potential risk for anyone who takes his identity solely from his roots and thinks he has to do something because that's what the family has always done and therefore it's expected of him.. Those are dangerous ruts that many people fall into. And the result is often wishing that one had spent his life doing something else, something he was interested in way back at the beginning.

I spent my working life as an entertainer. But I'm glad to say I chose it over a lot of other options that were open to me. And it wasn't expected of me by my family. In fact I was discouraged from it by some members. But I persevered and never did I feel I was in the rut of repeating my family's history. No one was paying my way so I felt no obligation to do as I was told. And the end result was that I got to thinking about things in an original way and doing more than I was expected to do and that I expected from myself.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*****************************
This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, the New Year. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 245

2012-01-04T09:52:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #245 "It is innocence, purity and righteousness which torment the mad, not politics."
dbdacoba@aol.com

Guest Author 12

2012-01-03T00:01:00.001-05:00

Guest Author #12

Sunday Dec. 18th, 2011 The Little White Church

The Sleepless Ones

What if all the people

who could not sleep

at two or three or four

in the morning

left their houses

and went to the parks

what if hundreds, thousands,

millions

went in their solitude

like a stream

and each told their story

what if there were

old women

fearful if they slept

they would die

and young women

unable to conceive

and husbands

having affairs

and children

fearful of failing

and fathers

worried about paying bills

and men

having business troubles

and women unlucky in love

and those that were in physical

pain

and those who were guilty

what if they all left their houses

like a stream

and the moon

illuminated their way and

they came, each one

to tell their stories

would these be the more troubled

of humanity

or would these be

the more passionate of this world

or those who need to create to live

or would these be

the lonely

ones

and I ask you

if they all came to the parks

at night

and told their stories

would the sun on rising

be more radiant and

again I ask you

would they embrace

~ Lawrence Tirnauer

Reflection:

As I pondered what I wanted to say to you this evening, to extend to you as gift as we close the year, I found this poem to be one of the most moving and evocative of our entire time together and our listening together to poems. It took me back to one of the lines of the first poem I shared with you last April, from David Whyte in “Faces at Braga,” where he says, “when we fight with our failings, we ignore the entrance to the shrine itself.”

As I listened to these words, and contemplated the fact that we all have a story, as we have said, that lives behind the face of each of us, I realized how this poem, the sleepless ones, meets the story of Christmas – the story of the baby Jesus in a manger, a story that with each passing year, carries the possibility of something fresh, if we look for it. So I want to see if I can make that bridge, from that which is stirred in us, as we recognize ourselves in this poem – our sometimes veiled common ground, our humanity and vulnerability, our collective restlessness, our failings – to the themes and images found in this story we hear every year. A story we know so well, that we might cease to really hear it, and if it is not our tradition or we’ve been hurt or disgusted by what has been made of it, we might even try not to hear it, to shut it out. Someone said to me that they had a friend who felt that Christmas was just something to get through, to get past. And this saddened me, and yet I get it. For many people it is not all about joy and light and family and cheer. At all. I hope that some of what I say might speak to that reality. Perhaps unlatch a lock, open a window.

What is somehow mirrored for me in the poem, points to what was really going on behind the soft lit, cozy little manger scene where Jesus was resting – a sort of human messiness – and all that had gone before the event of the birth – the ordinariness of Mary as the one who is chosen, her fear, her status as an unmarried, pregnant woman, their destitution and poverty and lack of sufficient space for the impending birth...the utter vulnerability and humility that surrounded this birth, yet marked by a star the wise men sought, and shepherds followed.....the sheer earthiness of the hay and the manger and the proximity to the animals as important participants, the smells, the cold, the rawness of it all. And yet, the little Lord Jesus is asleep on the hay – the offer of rest, in the midst of strife. Stillness at the core of the swirl.

oh hush the noise and cease the strife and hear the angels sing

A humble manger scene, and yet this is hailed as the beginning of a new covenant, a new way, the meeting point of the Creator and created, the Light coming freshly into human form. The powerful words – repeat the sounding joy, repeat the sounding joy.....wonders of this love.....and wonders of this love – this little child, who would grow to be a passionate man, who would heal the sick and commune with the broken ones, who would drive out the money changers, one who would embody and look for radical authenticity, and who would ultimately be broken and killed himself for just that, for not fitting in with the status quo, for shaking it up, for showing what is possible . . . a human person, fully alive, on fire, Love incarnate – one who would pray that we would be ONE as he and his source who he called Father were ONE. At the same time that he was vigilant and fiery, he was also acquainted with grief; and he was gentle and tender...those amazing lines from Handel’s Messiah how he would “gather the lambs in his arms and gently lead those that were with young......come ....all you that labor and are heavy laden, and you will find rest.”

We are given here in this poem, as well as in the trajectory of the Christ child and who he became, a juxtaposition – relevant, and worthy of our interest and inquiry – how it is that fire, vibrancy, and sorrow and grief, and tenderness and gentleness and rest can reside together as one whole – and how this bears upon the intersection between our own individual and unique journey, that in many ways can only be taken by us, and at times, by us alone – and the call to community – our inherent need to be seen and welcomed, to share our gifts with one another. And what it would mean for our communities, if instead of pointing to what is wrong out there, we took responsibility for this arduous journey into our full authenticity? If our communities were made of people who are not hiding, but fully, passionately present, would we have fewer communities, groups, factions who seem to require that everyone feel and believe as they do?

Would we celebrate more fully who we are, and how similar we are, and yet how remarkably different at the same time? And, would we find that our fears diminished, the fears that bind and separate us that keep us in a kind of solitude that cannot fully hold or support us? Would we find this both/and for which I am trying to find words ...that our fullest, most fiery participation in life, and the welcoming of that in one another, could also be what brings us rest, peace?

It seems that some of our most difficult, most pressing work is how to welcome ourselves, so that we can welcome each other, even those that are not easy to welcome.

And why do we care about any of this? Why do we see about the wrestling of opposites within us, that tear us asunder, wreak havoc, and drive us to drink and distraction upon distraction, to busy-ness, to small mindedness, to the brink? Why do we endeavor to look at what might be possible, the invitation to which is right here, right now?

We do it for ourselves, for our children, for each other, for our enemies. I resonated with what John Phillip Newell said, as quoted from the Huffington Post after Gaddafi had been brutally killed. “As Mahatma Gandhi said, "brute-force" is incapable of creating true transformation. Hate-force cannot do it. Only action that is based on a true regard for the other is capable of healing what has been torn apart. This is our true "soul-force," said Gandhi, to heal the world through the hard work of love. How do we access within ourselves this deep energy for transformation?

What has happened to our instinct for unity? And how shall we nurture it? Teilhard de Chardin, another prophet for peace in the 20th century, said that once humanity has harnessed the great energies of earth, sea and sky, we will then learn how to harness the greatest of energies, the energy of love. And on that day we will have discovered fire for the second time. I call on us as nations, as communities and as families to harness this greatest of energies. It alone can transform us.”

How do we do this, this harnessing of love.... We look again to the people in the poem, who are us. We risk. We come ‘as we are.’ We are willing to ‘not know’– willing to be a part of the vulnerable, weary world, rejoicing. Willing to step into the fire of truth telling. Willing to let it refine and empty us of what is no longer needed – that in that simplicity, we might rest.

Jesus said that his yoke was easy, and his burden was light. LIGHT. Take this upon you and learn of it, this lightness of being, this radiance the poet asks us about at the end, as truth is told, as we lay our burdens down together, as we come, all of us, faithful, to rise to the call of who we are, each one of us and all of us, together.

Sing O COME ALL YE FAITHFULL

Closing words:

In the Beginning by David Whyte

Sometimes simplicity rises
like a blossom of fire
from the white silk of your own skin.
You were there in the beginning
you heard the story, you heard the merciless
and tender words telling you where you had to go.
Exile is never easy and the journey
itself leaves a bitter taste. But then,
when you heard that voice, you had to go.
You couldn't sit by the fire, you couldn't live
so close to the live flame of that compassion
you had to go out in the world and make it your own
so you could come back with
that flame in your voice, saying listen...
this warmth, this unbearable light, this fearful love...
It is all here, it is all here.

*************************

*************************

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, the New Year. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 12 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Wake Up

2012-01-02T00:01:00.003-05:00

Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives.

William Dement
********************
Hello Mark
*********************
"We are such stuff s dreams are made on" wrote Shakespeare. If that is so how can we tell the difference between the sleeping dream and the waking dream? Furthermore, if the sleeping dream affords us the right to go insane, doesn,t the waking dream do so too? And if insanity is what the sleeping dream feeds on why can't the waking dream do the same? Or are we all still asleep while we think we are awake?

When I read the news I perceive many human activities that seem to have no other explanation than that someone, or some group of people, has gone not so quietly or safely insane. How else but by madness can you explain some of the outrageous behavior of humans: suicide bombers, decisions by fundamentalist religions, the plundering of citizens by banks and other institutions, the kidnapping of children, millions of dollars being poured into a relatively small Midwestern state to garnish votes of doubtful worth. legalized torture, rape, murder, cruelty, infidelity, police brutality, nuclear weapons, the exploitation of children, other people being paid a fortune for performing acts of dubious quality, home owners being disallowed to display an American flag on their property, drones. Are we all guilty of this daytime craziness, and do we all need to wake up?

"Keep a level head" the saying goes. How level is my head? Rudyard Kipling wrote about that:
"If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you," and
"If you can dream - and not make dreams your master."

That's the question. Are we letting our dreams master us? When a man blows up a building and says that God told him to do it in a dream or in a vision you can be sure there is a mad man loose.

It seems to me the peculiar type of insanity that people are victimized by is not being able to tell the difference between a rational and irrational act or decision. Where is the buzzer, the alarm clock that should wake us up? Are we still asleep after we crawl out of bed? Do we sleepwalk through the day? And when we decide on the mad act, whatever it is, do the non thinking tools of passion, will power and tunnel vision take over our lives and hold us captive?

It's an odd fact that we spend most of days somewhere between asleep and alert. What we need to do is to understand, first of all, that we may well be still asleep and moving through a dream of life. Then let the cold breeze of reality blow across our thoughts and startle us into alertness. We need to ask "Wait a minute, what am I thinking of. Does it make any sense? Do I really want the results I'm heading for? Are these really my thoughts or do they come from some goblin of the night?" We need to be clear, "level headed," to keep our own heads and not rent them out to some inane fantasy. We need to confine our own inexplicable madness to the night time slumber.

"O dreamer, leave thy s dreams for joyful waking,
O captive, rise and sing, for thou art free."
(Rosa Turner)

DB -Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
************************
This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, the New Year. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 11 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Guest Author 11

2012-01-01T00:06:00.001-05:00

Guest Author #11

My New Year’s Wish

The end of the year is upon us and soon we will have a brand new year --- a year of new beginnings, new attitudes, new introspections, a new journey of 366 days to make of it what we will. I have long thought that life is so very precious and unpredictable. We only get one chance at life, so why would we not want to live it with as much happiness and cheer as we could find.

We all know folks who seem to be perpetually unhappy. They whine, they complain they are never happy with anyone or anything and they continue in a downward spiral to misery, despair and stress. I have never understood why some people prefer to live their life this way suffering from “negativitis”. It is virtually impossible to complain and be happy at the same time…impossible as well to rescue someone from their own attitude. If an individual has time to whine and complain about something, then they have time to do something about it, but they choose not to do that continuing along on their pathway to even more misery and anguish.

People who complain about everything avoid taking responsibility for their life and they operate with a long list of excuses about why they are not successful or able to reach their goals.

Why, when we are genuinely happy to see someone, do they take it upon themselves to dwell on their aches, pains and illnesses and other petty gripes. Does anything happy ever happen in their life and if it does, then why are those times so seemingly unimportant that they are rarely ever mentioned? Is it more satisfying to be miserable and to try to spread that feeling on to others?

The years go by so quickly and I certainly do not want to be on my death bed wondering why I never found any happiness in life. Perhaps I was waiting for “someday” or “sometime” or “if only” and those opportunities slipped by unnoticed or I made a decision not to respond to them.

I do not know the meaning behind it all, but I am pretty certain that human beings are the only animals that can make the choice to be miserable and unhappy. Other species appear to live in the “now” and they accept the moment for what it is.

My wish is that more and more people will find happiness in life and that they will want to share and celebrate those joyous moments of feeling alive and revitalized. It has been said that a truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery while on a detour. I want to be that kind of person and I want to wish that for my friends as well. A new year and a new beginning. Is this the year that we try to bring some happiness into our life and appreciate every day for the wonder that it is? Happy people are in short supply and we do need more of them. No qualifications are needed, just a genuine desire to be cheerful and to want to spread that feeling around to others.

Wishing you heartfelt happiness, joy, and contentment in 2012. May you be the kind of person that others love to be around.

pacifica62

***************************

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, the New Year. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 11 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Ode To Olaf

2011-12-31T00:02:00.002-05:00

It is a happy talent to know how to play.

Emerson
******************
Hello Sue
*******************
Any one who travels around the country is no doubt familiar with the literature written on the walls of the nation's rest rooms. I don't frequent women's rooms so I don't know what sort of wisdom is inscribed there. But in the men's rooms of the land one can find some very interesting journalism.

Some of it is strange. "What's hot and swims?" can be found on a wall in a lower Manhattan bar. Some of it, alas, is downright stupid. I think I might start kicking walls if I have to read one more time "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy." Too many immature men erroneously think that remark is clever. (And some of them don't know how to spell "lobotomy.")

In northern New Hampshire where I used to live Winter means skiing season. There are a slew of mountains around there, most of them with ski slopes. The local people begin skiing when they are a few inches tall so it's a regular sport for them in snow season. But they usually do it during the week, because the weekends are taken up by the tourists, the flat landers, the ski clubbers, the second homers, and the time sharers. Hundreds of them make arrangements and reservations to come up and ski and when they get there they expect to see snow.

But there are some winters when the snow is late in coming and it's a matter of great disappointment to those who spent the time and money to get there. It's like going to your favorite amusement park and finding that all the roller coasters are closed.

The frustration of the out-of-towners spills over in many directions, some of them not so nice. But mostly they will just sit, drink and tell skiing stories or find other more private activites. And sometimes they write their frustrations on the men's room walls in carelessly worded prose.

At one particular cocktail lounge where a few friends of mine and I used to meet for a couple of drinks in the early evening, before the crowds arrived, I read on the men's room wall the following short but blunt remark, "THERE'S NO SNOW !" as if to announce to the unobservant or mentally deficient the important facts of life and weather in the north country.

Several days later when we were again visiting our drinking place, I noted that someone had written underneath that important statement, "Olaf knows why there is no snow." Ah Ha. The plot thickens. Who is this Olaf character and what does he know about it?

Sure enough, a week later, some curious intellectual, caught up in the tension of the drama, had written "Why, Olaf, is there no snow?" Breathlessly we waited to read what our resident meteorologist and ski slope authority, Olaf, had to offer by way of explanation to satisfy the curious and soothe the frustrations of the bereft. But, woe to the skiers, Olaf wasn't talking. His lips were closed. He kept his cards close to his chest. Mum was the word.

The following winter the walls of that men's room had been painted and the gripping story of Olaf and the missing snow was gone without a trace. BUT.
When I went in there (to do something that one does in a men's room) I saw written on the wall the following plaintive inscription "Where's the snow?" I couldn't resist the need to try to explain things, so underneath that I wrote "Where is Olaf when you need him?"

A week went by and then came another visit to the bar with my friends. When I went to the men's room, a condition brought on by the vigorous and fun filled consumption of beer, there was the answer. The end of the story, the final chapter, the curtain on the drama, was spelled out in definitive terms for all to see, read and ponder. "Olaf, moved to North Carolina."

In North Carolina they make snow.

Adieu Olaf, and good luck to you.

DB - The Vagabond Journey
Never give up.
**************************
This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The new year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, the New Year. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 244

2011-12-30T13:38:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #244 "It is too easy to be tempted into a state of thoughtlessness."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

Worthy

2011-12-30T00:01:00.002-05:00

A Vagabond's Song

I was baptized by New York City sleet and tempered in New England snow.

I walked among the ancient rocks and pondered nature's hieroglyphs.

I watched the silver snake ford the brook.

I fought. My spear was inscribed with sacred runes.

I gather knowledge from books and birds and children at play.

I respect the mystic myths.

I know when there's love and when there isn't.

I can hear the echoes of my struggling ancestors.

Those who saw me sit and stare and said I was a worthless dreamer are gone.

I survived the silent sirens.

Now I sit and stare and while I sit I think, I imagine, I write, I design, I survive because I can.

There is inexpressible music in my head, poetry in my heart and a sense of humor in my pocket.

I am a child of the universe. ,

I am not worthless.

DB
************************

Vagabondism 243

2011-12-29T11:18:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #243 "Things which must be said, must be said." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Ideas

2011-12-29T00:02:00.003-05:00

A great idea can't be expressed too often or in too many ways.

Dana Bate
**********************
Hello Ken
**********************
It's a question of approach and acceptance. We are all individuals and therefore different from each other in spite of our similarities. Babies are born not knowing everything, although I claim they probably know more than we imagine they do, they are after all thinking creatures. As time goes by they accumulate knowledge and ways to articulate what they see, feel and think. Some sort of language is developed. At last the spoken language becomes writing and other forms of communication.

Along with other developments of a human being come preferences, ways that define our character and impulses that move us in the directions of our lives.

The great ideas of the world exist in many forms but all of them are not ideas themselves but the trail markers along the pathways. Great writers reach into the bottomless well of words to describe what lives in their minds in it's purest form. One may not learn from the written word to seek the true ideas behind them. That is a matter of preference.

A painter has in his hand a brush with which he can stroke the formless truth of things and point the way to its understanding. My favorite painting is "The Piano Lesson" by Matisse. One person may look at it and see the triangles and curls. another will see the tensions of life when the conflict of need, desire and fulfillment cross each other.

Music is another, and perhaps the greatest, communicator of ideas. The poetry that accompanies the melody of a song or the grand interlocking levels of an orchestra will bring a listener on to the trail that the music is pointing toward, the trail that leads to where the music leaves off and the lush forest of pure thought is found.

How we approach literature and works of art determines how close we get to understanding the great ideas that foster them. But it is also important to know that the ideas are there seemingly hidden behind the words. Knowing that means that someday at some time the idea will open up itself and the illumination of one's thinking will happen.

It is important, therefore, to make the right choices. Suppose you go out to buy a chair, You go to the furniture store and look over all the chairs. You sit in a few. The chairs all perform the same function, but one is the right one for your room. One of them provides the looks and the comfort you want. You take it home and it becomes a part of your life.

Suppose you decide to buy a work of art, a painting let's say. You will exercise the same or more care in making a choice about that. That painting will probably be with you the rest of your life, speaking to you every day, leading you to where the trail begins.

Then let's say you go to buy a Beethoven symphony. Now it's not only the music itself but the degree of enlightenment of the conductor and the members of the orchestra who perform the music that determines how much and how true the experience is to the ideas of the genius who was on the trail to them.

It is the nature of Truth to reveal itself. Being aware and observing the world around us in all of its articulations surprises happen and treasures are revealed. And when they open up a door or light up a trail marker the voyage to a better understanding of ourselves as individuals continues and the destination becomes closer.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*******************************
Look here. I am about to close down this invitation if I get no more offerings.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year is upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I think people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out.
All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 242

2011-12-28T14:26:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #242 "It is very hard to maintain enthusiasm in the dark and dismal days of debt and depression, but that is what we must find a way to do."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

What's in a name?

2011-12-28T00:01:00.003-05:00

One must keep ever present a sense of humor.

Katherine Mansfield
**********************
Hello Ernie
**********************
I am amused to find that most of the Republicans who are running for their party's nomination have one syllable names: Mitt, Newt, Rick, Ron. I'm sure it makes good political sense these days to try to present yourself as a real person, a regular guy, an All American Boy or Girl. So why not have a regular guy nick name?

Except for Ben Franklin and Abe Lincoln it seems to be a modern day phenomenon. But think about it. Would our sense of history be different if our Founding Fathers had regular guy names. After George we had Jack Adams. Tom Jefferson, Jimmy Madison, Andy Jackson, Marty Van Buren ("Van").

Later we had Frank Pierce, Zack Taylor, Milli Filmore (does that work for you?), Ulie Grant and the Harrison boys, Bill and Ben, Billie Taft and Woody Wilson. All regular guys.

I don't know what to do with Rutherford, Chester and Grover, but moving toward and into the last century we got to enjoy the Roosevelts, Teddy and Frankie, Cal ("Cool") Coolidge and Herb Hoover. All American Boys everyone.

With the 20th Century things loosened up quite a bit with Harry Truman and Jimmy Carter. But why not Ronnie Reagan and Georgie Bush?

Now we hear Barry Obama, but not very often. And it seems clear that if you want to run for President in the Republican party you have to have a one syllable name. Well that counts me out. Anyone out there named Rip, Rock, Rap or Rump interested in the job?

Dana - The Vagabond
Never give up.
*************************
Look here. I have 10 Guest Author entries since I started offering this invitation. If I don't get some more Guest Authors by January 1st, I'm going to close down this invitation. If you haven't posted one here yet, please do so.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from you? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 241

2011-12-27T11:52:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #241 "Don’t blame yourself for missing the mark. Blame yourself for not aiming at it."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

How's Tricks?

2011-12-27T00:00:00.003-05:00

There is no adequate defense, except stupidity, against the impact of a new idea.

Percy Bridgeman
********************
Hello Ally
********************
I suppose one could say there is a good reason for stupidity. There are a variety of things that could cause it, and maybe in some cases it's curable. I personally believe one should be compassionate with the stupid.

But there is definitely a reason for ignorance. Ignorance is simply not knowing. We are all ignorant of most things. That doesn't make us bad. If we need to know something which we don't know, we are ignorant. And the cure for that ignorance is to find out what we need to know.

Holding on to ignorance, refusing to find out, or being afraid of finding out, or, even, preferring to remain ignorant for social, political or religious reasons, is curable stupidity. Holding on to ignorance. Tenaciously protecting it. That makes us bad.

Clarence Darrow once wrote "I do not pretend to know what a lot of ignorant men are sure of." The first step out of ignorance is to admit it. That is sometimes difficult because there are so many things we think we know, things that have been told to us by those who think they know. Or else we make assumptions on our own. I knew a preacher once who used to say "To assume makes an ass of u and me."

Sometimes our ignorance is kept alive by the legerdemain of advertisers and politicians. A magician succeeds in fooling you into thinking you know where the card is even though he has palmed it into a different pocket by taking your focus off the card.

Politicians can avoid talking about volatile issues by focusing your attention elsewhere on the superficial and general ones. They either say what we need is a change or, as in today's magic show, we need to restore.

How ,amy times has a drug company taken something as harmless as, say, a stiff neck, which can be the result of stress, tension or a bad attitude, all of which are traceable to a mental state, given it a fancy Greco/Roman title, invented a drug with a veiled medical type name to heal it and then entertained you with TV commercials to sell it.

And we are bombarded with news about the misbehavior of famous people. Two stars are spotted together on a beach in Barbados and Wham! a scandal is brewing, "bubble, bubble."

TV is a very successful way to sell cars. It must be or there wouldn't be so many of them. We see them spinning along remote highways or cruising through impossibly empty city streets. But when was the last time you saw one of those fancy cars making its way through rush hour traffic?

It takes a great effort to ignore these magic shows, but it says even more for one's intelligence to say "Wait a minute," find out the facts and blow the ignorance away. Without doing that you can't decide whether a new idea is really a new one or just a newer version of the same old snake oil.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
I will keep harping on Guest Authors until I get some more and I will
Never Give Up
***************************
Look here. I have 10 Guest Author entries since I started offering this invitation. Now I want yours. If you haven't posted one here yet, please do so.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 240

2011-12-26T10:50:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #240 "Believe in what you’re doing. Try harder. And don’t give up."
dbdacoba@aol.com

Live It Up

2011-12-26T00:02:00.002-05:00

We die daily. Happy those who come to life as well.

George MacDonald
**************************
Hello Ally
**************************
Every day is a disaster, to one degree or another. Things explode, or they implode. Things break down and refuse to get fixed. Other things don't work right. Things don't go the way you want them to or expect them to. You tried, you failed. So what's the solution? The solution is: it's another day, another chance, a reawakening.

I used to have an early morning radio program in New York City. I went on the air before most of my listeners were awake. As they came to they relied on me to tell them what day it was, what time it was, what the weather forecast was for the day, to be cheerful and entertaining, to welcome them into a new day, etc. I would also remind them frequently that they had another chance to do great things. I would pepper my announcements by saying "Thank heaven we have another day on our hands." Then, since I was in a big city with a lot of commerce going on, I would say things like "Make that sale!" "Win that case!" "Pass that test!" "Sign that contract!"

People would often write and tell me how much they appreciated those gentle boots in the rear as they were getting ready to leave the home and head out into the roaring jungle.

When you finally get going this morning or tomorrow, or any time remember that you have another day on your hands, and make a mole hill out of that mountain you made last time.
-------------------------------------------
I am still waiting for that magnetic force that moves your fingers toward your keyboard to start making clicking noises that mean you are creating the fascinating piece of writing that will make you the next Guest Author.

DB - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
*************************
Look here. I have 10 Guest Author entries since I started offering this invitation. Now I want yours. If you haven't posted one here yet, please do so.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 239

2011-12-25T11:53:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #239 "There is no life for those who do not dare to live it."
http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Dashing Through The Snow

2011-12-25T00:02:00.001-05:00

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know

Irving Berlin
**********************
Hello Jon
**********************
December 25, 1957. I was in college in the suburbs of Boston, Massachusetts. I had gone down to Stamford, Connecticut the day before to spend Christmas Eve with some friends. During the night a heavy snow storm, that beautiful, quiet menace to all travelers, had crept in like a thief upon all of New England.

After a quick breakfast my friend and I uncovered his car from a blanket of white and he drove me to the train station. Once there it was obvious, even if it had not been announced in a nasal passionless tone, that the train was late due to "inclement weather conditions." No kidding.

During the several hours that we waited more people came through the door who had somehow made it from wherever they were to the Stamford depot hoping to catch a ride to somewhere else. One could clearly see the frowns of concern on the faces of the new comers who, after they had kissed, hugged and shook hands with those they were leaving behind, entered the depot to join the crowd of people, refugees, who were waiting in frustration and worry for the train, any train, to arrive outside the station.

Finally, after too many fretful hours, a train came slowly rolling into the station. I picked up my suitcase and joined the mob at the door. Once on to the train and into one of the cars it was plain that there was no place to sit. All the seats were taken and it was SRO (standing room only).

In those days a train trip from Stamford to Boston took almost 4 hours on the New Haven Railroad. At the speed this train was going I knew it would be a lot more than 4 hours, and I wasn't going to stand for all that time, so I sat down on my suitcase in the aisle. There were so many people aboard the train the conductor never took any one's ticket. There was no way for him to maneuver through the cars.

I couldn't see out the window from where I was sitting, so it was just a matter of sitting and waiting, sitting and waiting. Now and then the train would stop, but the doors wouldn't open, which meant we weren't at a station yet. When we did reach a station there was more delay as those wanting to get off had to wedge their way through the crowd of those who were still traveling. Then the passengers who were getting on had to adjust themselves to standing somewhere. What made it more difficult was that some people got on with boxes of Christmas presents and no place to put them. The overhead racks were full. The few seats that emptied were soon grabbed by those who had been standing. It resembled musical chairs.

Bridgeport, New Haven, Hartford, Springfield, Worcester, Framingham. Slowly we crawled toward Boston. It wasn't until Framingham that a seat opened up near me and I could look out the window. All I could see was snow. No sunshine, no roads, no buildings, just snow. A Winter Wonderland, if you please.

When we finally got to Boston it was very late. I was worried about catching the transportation out to the suburbs. It didn't run all night. The entrance to the MTA at the Boston bus depot was blocked off, due to ice or some other "inclement" condition. So I left the building to seek another entrance. Boston was a complete blanket of snow. There was nothing to be seen anywhere and it was night time, very dark, very cold and still snowing.

I trudged through the snow for a block or two and then, and I will never forget this image, it's branded in my memory, sticking out of a snow bank was a small corner of an MTA sign, just enough for me to recognize what it was. I went to the snow bank and started kicking the snow away until I made a crawl space through the snow to the stairs behind it, and literally slid down the ice covered steps into the bright, open space of the subway station below.

Soon the subway took me out to the suburbs. But the trip wasn't over. I don't know how it is now but in those days Boston had trackless trolleys. They looked like buses with wheels but they took their power from an electrical grid overhead. There were two arms that came out the back of the vehicle and clasped on to the grid above. The problem with that system was that whenever the trolley went over a bump in the road, of which there were many, the arms would often bounce loose from their connection. Then the driver had to get out, pull down the arms and try to reattach them to the grid wires. He eventually would and the trolley would move on.

On this night there was snow on all the streets. They had been plowed, of course, but a lot of snow had fallen since the last plow went through and the driver couldn't see what the road conditions were. I don't remember how many times he had to get out and adjust those arms. He also had to stop frequently to let a passenger off the trolly, until I was the only one left.

The driver was approaching a steep hill. I moved to the front with my suitcase and sat. I asked the driver if he had to drive up that hill. He said he did so, even though my stop was in the middle of the hill, I told him to keep going until he reached level ground at the top and let me off there. He did that, we both wished each other a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and he drove on into the blizzard.

It was still snowing and I had a long, stiff walk trekking through ankle deep snow to my apartment, but at least i knew that i would probably make it there. Which I did.

December 26, 1957. The next day I wrote a letter to my friend saying how much I had enjoyed the Christmas party and that I had no trouble getting home.

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
Never Give Up
**********************
Look here. I have 10 Guest Author entries since I started offering this invitation. Now I want yours. If you haven't posted one here yet, please do so.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 238

2011-12-24T10:43:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #238 "An artist must never lose the courage to dare."
dbdacoba@aol.com

Visions Of Sugar Plums

2011-12-24T00:00:00.003-05:00

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Clement Clarke Moore
or
Henry Livingston, Jr.
**************************
Hello Ally
**************************
Tis the day before Christmas and all through my apartment there is no stirring, scurrying nor hurrying. There is no family around here, no reason to cook and no space for a tree. I will celebrate Christmas as I usually do, quietly and gracefully by myself. I will dine on a bowl of grits and some clam chowder. Don't feel sorry for me, I can afford the chowder. Because I cooked the grits I can now afford the chowder. It's a matter of simple economics, something Congress seems to have some confusion about.

Christmas is one of those days, like Thanksgiving and July Fourth, when we can forget the way we behave the rest of the year. The holidays usually just mean to me a day when the mail doesn't come. But this year Christmas is on Sunday and the mail wouldn't come anyway, so what's the difference?

Since I'm not affiliated with any church I'm not bound to the traditional rubrics of liturgical Christmas celebrations. But if I am anything, if I have to be categorized to differentiate myself from others, I'm a Christian. What I definitely am not is a Conservative. Any thinking Christian would know that Christianity and Conservatism is an emulsion, two things that don't mix. Any earnest Bible scholar, which I am (though not exclusively to be sure), would see why that is true.

Christmas day is the traditional celebration of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, a most remarkable man who brought to the world a clearer, more liberal, more spiritual interpretation, of the Jewish theology. He was often homeless, worked on the Sabbath, had compassion on the poor, ill and destitute, got angry, hungry and thirsty, and sleepy. He had friends, enjoyed parties, loved kids and had a sense of humor. (If you don't believe that read John 1: 45 - 50 (Stick around, you ain't seen nothing yet.) or John 21: 4 - 6.)

Jesus never involved himself in politics, he never joined any party, association, committee or group, he stood up to and rebuked the priests, scribes and Pharisees, the conservatives of his day. And, like Socrates before him, he refused to break the law to save his life.

This is a time to celebrate, to love, to roam through pleasant memories,and to delight in new experiences. It's a time to renew bonds and to remember why we come together. I will celebrate Christmas in my own quiet way. And if you are celebrating it I wish you a day of joy and merriment and great blessings for the year to follow.

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*********************************
*********************************
Look here. I have 10 Guest Author entries since I started offering this invitation. Now I want yours. If you haven't posted one here yet, please do so, or Santa won't come down your chimney. (I know he won't anyway, but that's beside the point.)

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 237

2011-12-23T14:29:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #237 "Style is the joining of grace and enthusiasm."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8

No Limits

2011-12-23T00:05:00.001-05:00

The well of providence is deep, it's the buckets we bring to it that are small.

Mary Webb
*******************
Hello Rose
*******************
Someone once remarked that every time human beings discover something pleasurable and enjoyable to do some government will pass laws to regulate and limit it. Why should there be any limits to life?

Why should there be any limits to good? Where did we get the idea of "going too far"? It is those who go too far that stretch the limits. The sour notes sung by the negativists are simple challenges to the spirit of the adventurers, the ones who do what can't be done or "shouldn't be done."

Just over 100 years ago the automobile became the mode of travel for those who could afford one. It was said by great authority that it was impossible for the human being to travel faster than 8 miles an hour and survive. "Holy cow, look at us now." Some of us travel through space faster than the speed of sound. "Yeah, but you can't travel faster than the speed of light and survive." Well, we'll se. Won't we?

Why should there be any limits to wealth? Those unfortunate millionaires who hoard money think there are. "If I don't have more than enough I don't have enough."

Why should there be limits to happiness? There are no limits to technology and engineering. Do we measure our happiness by the number of gadgets and machines we own? If so we are limiting our happiness. There will always be another, better gadget. I read about a robot that has another robot attached to it that makes repairs on the first robot. How far can they carry an idea like that? As far as they want to. There are no limits.

"Well, you have to draw the line somewhere." Oh? It's the drawing of unnecessary lines that keeps our buckets small.

Why should there be any limits to evil? There should be no evil and therefore no limits. The only measurement of evil is how long it takes to destroy itself.

'Whoa! Slow down. Back up." No. Look forward and go that way. Enjoy the life you have, even with its limitations, and find ways to make it better.

DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
*************************
Look here. I have 10 Guest Author entries since I started offering this invitation. Now I want yours. If you haven't posted one here yet, please do so, or Santa won't come down your chimney. (I know he won't anyway, but that's beside the point.)

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post an entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have things to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your own journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Guest Author 10

2011-12-22T00:01:00.002-05:00

Guest Author #10

We've waited and waited for this day. Thirteen years to be exact. When my husband John was 36 years old, as most of you know, he was diagnosed with Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma. It was unusual how John's physician, at the time, found the cancer. Dr. Hall was doing surgery for a hernia correction when he found a tumor that happened to be the lymphoma. It was both one of the worst things that could happen during a hernia surgery, yet a real blessing -- if the surgeon hadn't opened John up, he never would have found the tumor and John would have never started to fight the dreadful cancer he had, which, as I stated, was Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma. John had more than one tumor, and was staged at 3B. And the cancer was in his lymph nodes. The surgeon stated that if he had not found the cancerous tumor when he had, John would have been dead within six months.

Back 13 years ago, blood cancer doctors (hematologists/oncologists) didn't have a lot of hope for patients with NHL. John was told that even if he was put into remission, he probably wouldn't live. He was advised to be proactive, choose a method of treatment and do everything he could to fight. This would extend his life for only a few years, they said. And this, the hem/oncs (blood cancer doctors), told John, could buy him enough time until enough time for another treatment or cure came along, so that if it happened enough time, John would be able to live.

I have asked John how he could live like this. He has told me, "You do what you got to do. If you were going to die, you would do what you had to do. There was no other option. Everybody keeps calling me brave. An inspiration. I am not an inspiration. All I did was survive."

On the contrary, I believe John is an inspiration. I'm not sure I wouldn't have gotten depressed and quit. I'm not sure I would've been able to last the 13 years, before I was declared OK, and worked so hard. But then again, you never know. As John says, "You do what you have to do."

Okay, this post has gotten long, so I am going to finish it tomorrow. I hope you come back to read the rest. Meanwhile, I've got a question for you:

I think John was an inspiration. I think the fact he did work hard to survive is an inspiration. I think he did "more than survive" and he's a true hero, trying and trying, until he finally got into remission. I will explain how his remission, and how Dr Claxton is actually calling it a "cure", came 13 years later, in the next post or two. But for now, I want to ask you this:

Did John just do what he had to do? Or is he an inspiration to you? Just wondering. I am going to be showing him the answers!
************************
************************
Look here.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 10 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can I hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 236

2011-12-21T12:46:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #236 "The idea of “heaven,” “paradise” or “other worldliness” should not be thought of as compensation for the life you live." http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Winter Wings

2011-12-21T00:01:00.001-05:00

Winter comes in on eagles' wings.

Dana Bate
********************
Hello Jon
********************
During the past decade I spent one Christmas in sunny southern California, one in frozen northern Vermont and all the rest in unpredictable eastern Pennsylvania. Being an incurable northeasterner I enjoyed the Vermont Christmas the most, I think. The people, the cats, even the snow covered back yard.

I don't know what the reason is for actually looking forward to the winter months. Maybe it's age, experience, the robust challenge of dealing with cold weather: snow, sleet, freezing rain and temperatures below any human comfort.

Winter is a time for learning lessons. How strong am I? How adroit am I at getting over snow banks and down icy sidewalks? How prepared am I at putting up with the slap of brazen winds? And how well, when the end of the year festivities are over and the last lifeless bit of champagne from the New Years Even party has been tilted from the bottom of the glass, will I deal with the dregs of the long winter to follow, it's depressions and it's relentless lack of colors? The shortness of the daylight and the length of the darkness? The emotional temptations of the attacks from the nasty angel on my aloneness?

I do look forward to Winter in spite of all those things because I know how strong I will prove myself to be. And in spite of my cane and my geezerness (geezerality? geezership? geezerosity?) I shall face the flapping, predatory wings of Winter with cheerfulness. And I will do that because I want to.

DB - The Vagabond
**********************
Look here.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 8 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can i hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Guest Author 9

2011-12-20T00:02:00.002-05:00

Guest Author #9

I remember the hustle and bustle of dressing up in my finest before the mad dash to grab one of the last parking spots in the church for Midnight Mass. How early did people arrive to get a seat, I would wonder, as the clock just struck half past eleven. Still thirty more minutes before the service and the place was packed to the rafters.

Growing up Catholic in a predominantly French-speaking part of town (even though I was of Hungarian/Ukrainian background), meant that the Midnight Mass service was nearly two hours long, interspersed with Latin, French and English verses. I got by with my rudimentary French from high school and would mouth out the words slowly and deliberately to the hymns.

It would be so stuffy in the pews with the smell of alcohol and strong perfume, along with mothball scented fur coats way past their prime - that often left me nauseous and looking for a quick escape route, only to be brought back to my senses when it was time to kneel and pray for forgiveness. I always prayed that I wouldn't faint before I got up to accept the host and repent my sins.

After the long procession of yet more "Hallelujahs", everyone would forget whether they were supposed to stand or kneel or make the sign of the cross, that I would give a scowl or two to those that appeared to make a mockery of one of the most sacred nights of the year. This was the event that I had waited for, the booming voices of the well-tuned choir belting out "Silent Night, Holy Night" and someone off key always shouting louder than the choir.

I remember the hairs on my arms standing straight up when an Angelic voice would ring out in time with the chimes rung by the alter boys. Everyone would go silent to let the Priest dismiss the congregation and I could almost feel the spirit of a higher power brushing by each and every one of us. "Merry Christmas", "Peace be with you" we would shout in unison to all as we squeezed into our lines to depart. The parking lot was a chaotic mess of tangled red and gold lights blinking in turn as we snaked our way to the road. The neighbouring streets were alive with lights that shone brighter than before, and I would always gaze into the sky looking for that one special guiding star to lead me home.

Once home, it was time to put the last minute presents underneath the tree. I would stay up longer than anyone else just to soak in the silence of Christmas Eve. "Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring..." would play in my head.

This year, I cannot bring myself to go to church. If I do, I would cry my eyes out at the thought that my Dad is no longer with us, and my almost 90 year old Mom is too frail to stay up that late. I know she misses the excitement I often felt, and also - my Dad. I will watch Midnight Mass services on the television, gaze at the golden stars that have often guided my faith and fill the stockings with trinkets for my daughters and husband.

Christmas morning I will wake up early and pour myself a cup of coffee to sit in solitude, and watch the birds feast on the food that I have hung up for them. And I will ask them, "where are you Christmas?" and wait for a reply.

Always, Rose~*
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*************************
Look here.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 9 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can i hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Put Your Armor On

2011-12-19T00:02:00.002-05:00

The only thing needed for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing.

Edmund Burke
********************
Hello Geo
*********************
The advocates of error
Foresee the glorious morn,
And hear in shrinking terror
The watchword of reform:
Ir rings from hill and valley,
I breaks oppression's chain.
A thousand freemen rally,
And swell the mighty strain.
(Anonymous)

In the North, Winter is slowly approaching like a company of silent tanks. And before it, to announce it, are the cold biting winds of ignorance. This is a time for holidays, joy, festivities, families and happiness. But, as one guest author pointed out, it has become a time for the frenzy of shopping, trying to get the latest game or gadget before the store is sold out. Beginning on Black Friday where people, who should have been enjoying the echoes of Thanksgiving for harvest, were lined up in the cold ready to participate in the mad mob wrestling match of bargain shopping.

As the Winter comes in it is not enough just to be armed with coats, gloves. boots, hats and scarves. In the dark and hidden places are the pockets of poorness and despair that grip the world even worse than the season of ice. And galloping behind Santa's reindeer is a herd of vicious, mindless beasts whose only purpose is to destroy.

Those who claim the homeless refuse to work should not have their homes taken away from them by a compassionless bank. That sort of revenge would do nothing. The should be educated out of their prejudice. Those who say if you don't have a job it's your own fault should not be laid off from a secure position to walk the streets in this shaky economy looking for any nonexistent job. That sort of revenge does nothing. They should be educated out of their ignorance. Those who hoard their wealth should not be reduced to poverty. That sort of revenge would do nothing. They should be educated out of their greed. Those who rhapsodize about America being the greatest country in the world should not be forced to live in the places where it isn't. They should be educated to know those places are there.

For centuries, the world over, civil disobedience has been a powerful means for bringing down the tyrants. It helped to establish the labor unions which protected the working person from the tyranny of insecurity, exploitation and unfair and unhealthy working conditions. Civil disobedience brought about the Civil Rights legislation. It brought about the American and other revolutions. It has brought down monarchs and set up national self government.

So now the Occupiers of the world, risking safety, harm and their lives, are sounding "the watchword of reform" and, as usual, it is met by the strong arm of the tyrant. But, also as usual, it will be heard by those who are terrified by ignorance or guilt.

To pass safely through this Winter we need the armor of righteousness, honest endeavor, persistence and faith. We need the coats and hats that allow us to stand sturdily against the cold blasts of ignorance. And we need to never give up as we work for the "glorious morn.".

Let the culprits run and hide if they will ad leave the world for the real people to bustle in.

Dana Bate - Vagabond Journeys
Never Give Up
************************
Look here.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

I have 8 Guest Authors so far. Check them out. Can i hear from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America? All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Guest Author 8

2011-12-18T00:03:00.002-05:00

Guest Author # 8

The best of my Christmases were those of very early childhood - when life was pure, uncomplicated, blessedly innocent: the enchantment of silver tinsel, colored lights, reflections in Christmas balls. The anticipation of Santa and new toys. And snow. Falling soundlessly in the magical night. When I was five, we moved three thousand miles away to the Pacific Coast. My first Southern California Christmas was in the sleepy town of Glendora. In the fertile foothills of the mountains amidst orange groves, lemon trees, date palms. Snow-capped Mount Baldy in the background. Postcard perfect in those days. Christmas decorations shimmering uncomfortably in the warm, eternal sunshine.

Later, the magic of Christmas vanished along with the innocence of youth. Somehow the holiday season regressed to nothing more than a time of overwhelming sadness, which only served to reflect the chaos and unhappiness that was suffocating my existence. The endless battle with my father's insane violence which, ironically, often peaked at this peaceful time of year.

There were Christmases that I can hardly bear to remember: the cold, foggy Christmas Eve when we had to hide in the farthest depths of the yard, scarcely daring to breathe, for fear that my father would kill us in his drunken rage. The terror. The beatings. He'd locked my mother and I out of the house and there was nowhere to go. Nowhere.....
Yet another Christmas Eve when my father left us penniless. We had no clue where he was or if he'd ever be back. Somehow his absence was a blessed gift........a rare gift of unobtainable peace. But I was very sick with a high fever and a cough that rapidly developed into pneumonia. In a hospital, an adverse reaction to penicillin almost took my life. When I awoke from unconsciousness, I was strangely sorry to be alive......

Other Christmases pass in distant memories (like a faded Christmas card packed away in a forgotten place). Christmas Eve alone on the mist-drenched streets of Hollywood. Me, nineteen and pretending to be tough. With a bottle of whiskey in my coat pocket and a switchblade in my boot. Chain-smoking. A fallen angel in a midnight cowboy disguise. Later, quenching the loneliness in the arms of yet another stranger......
Merry Christmas, whoever you are.........

But there were other Christmases, much more gentle and easily remembered: Los Angeles winter nights that were warm with the richness of golden memories. The opera, the ballet, concerts at the Music Center. Me, playing the harpsichord in a lavish production of Handel's Messiah. Me, performing an endless succession of piano recitals. Wonderful friends, unforgettable lovers. Some of the most interesting people I've ever known. Los Angeles at it's vintage best.

Later, in another time and place, an exquisite Christmas Eve in the mountains of New Mexico. A classic adobe church, the altar ablaze with candles, reflections in stained glass, the angelic sweetness of the choir. Soft, feathery snow falling in the depths of a blessedly peaceful midnight.

And it inevitably comes full-circle: another Christmas, a West Texas Christmas. A time to cast aside the unending burden of life's trials and tribulations and find the peace that was always within me. A time to savor and be thankful - - truly thankful for the friends and family that I have. A time, not for the accumulation of monetary gifts, but rather of spiritual gifts. Christmas is merely a grand illusion. It is what we want it to be and what we will it to be. It is in our hearts........

by Jon
www.lonestarconcerto.blogspot.com
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This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
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Guest Author 7

2011-12-17T00:02:00.001-05:00

Guest Author #7

Christmas was always a special time as I was growing up. My first recollection of Christmas was probably in 1945 or 1946 after my dad came home from WWII. The old photo albums show pictures of decorated trees and a young me, sitting on the floor in front of the tree with my Christmas gifts.
When I was 10 years old we moved to a smaller house while a new house was being built on the front of that acreage. There was only room for a small tree, standing on a card table in the corner of the living room. But the decorations were lovely and as always the tree was loaded with lots of silver tinsel. My mom loved tinsel and she wanted it hung on the tree one piece at a time. I remember when I was a teenager, she gave over the tinsel hanging project over to me and my younger brother. We opened the packages and hysterically threw handfuls of the stuff at the tree. Mom was not pleased.
At this point in my life my grandmother and great grandfather were also living on the same property. So of course they were always part of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Frequently my aunt, uncle and cousins would travel across the mountain pass to spend the day with us.
My grandmother and my dad both worked for the railroad. Grandma worked the graveyard shift, and my dad worked the afternoon shift. I remember he always had Wednesday and Thursday off so unless Christmas fell on one of those days, he had to leave for work at 3:30 in the afternoon. Mom always figured a way to have Christmas dinner or Christmas brunch around grandma sleeping and dad leaving for work.
My great grandfather passed away the first week of December 1958. He had all his Christmas gifts wrapped and ready. My gift from him that year was a decorative tin filled with pennies. I still have the gift tag he had taped to that tin.
Besides all the wonderful, happy family memories I also remember the memories of Sunday school Christmas programs. At one point in my life I was the tallest and had to stand in the back row behind everyone-I didn't like that very much. But I'm thankful that I learned at an early age the reason we celebrated Christmas. I knew that Jesus was not actually born on December 25th but that's the day that was chosen many, many years ago to celebrate his birth. I remember hearing the story of his birth over and over, read from the Bible. I still read it every year at this time. I can't remember when I didn't know the words to 'Away In A Manger' and 'Silent Night'. And when I became a mother, I sang 'Away In A Manger' as a lullaby to my children.
For me and my entire family.....Christmas is a time to be with family and friends but also a time to stop and remember that precious babe born in a stable all those many years ago.
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This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
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Guest Author 6

2011-12-15T23:59:00.002-05:00

Guest Author #6

10 tips

Requested by a woman at the women's way conference. After asking me if I was a writer, she gave me a project in which she asked me to write down 10 things I would give as advice to someone going into 2012 homeless, as she works in advocacy with a variety of populations. I think it can apply to everyone.

1. YOU have value. Whether you know it or not - someone needs you and needs what you have to say and share.

2- Do not be afraid. It's hard but it will be ok

2- Smile - others need that and it will get you out of your head and affect another's life.

3- Listen just enough. Share what you must. Sift through the rest.

4- Sometimes things aren't fair or just. Sift, process and move through them. If you can - try to just be. Ck out 4a. .

4a. If it's not right, fair or just - you should probably try to enact that point.

5. Should be #1 - believe, because you can. Have faith.

6. Realize the value of your contributions. Just a smile goes a thousand miles.

7. Listen enough - but not too much. Trust your instincts.

8. You owe nothing to noone but yourself and your creator. Interpret that in your own way - you know.

9. Faith does move impertrenable mountains.

10. (borrowed) Don't think - just do it.

CM
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This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you wish or associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
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Vagabondism 235

2011-12-15T11:37:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #235 "The best use of philosophy is to open doors and invite a walk in the garden of thought."
http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/

Windmills

2011-12-15T00:00:00.004-05:00

To read a book for the first time is to make the acquaintance of a new friend, to read it a second time is to meet an old one.

Selwyn Champion
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Hello Ally
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In Giacomo Puccini's opera "La Boheme" there is a short but poignant aria in the last act. Colline is going off to sell his overcoat to buy some medicine for his roommate's girl friend, Mimi. He sings a farewell to his coat which has been his friend for years, with philosophers and poets living in its pockets. That sad aria has always had a special place in my heart.

Thank heaven I never had to sell my overcoat but when I lived in New York City I never went out without a book in my pocket. Most of the time in was "Don Quixote" by Cervantes. Even though I had read the book through, it was a pleasure to dip into it again at odd moments, waiting for a subway, or sitting at a table having lunch.

Sometimes it was a different book, but it was always and old friend. People who knew me knew there was always a book in my pocket and would sometimes ask what it was. "What's in the pocket, D.?"

An important book must be read more than once, even more than twice sometimes. Each time, like an old friend, it reveals more of its secrets, its mysteries and its love.

Now I'm retired, live alone and rarely go out. But when I do there's Aristotle's "De Anima" in my pocket. Otherwise I'm surrounded by books. I've never counted them but there must be over a hundred. They've all been read or partially read. I am surrounded by friends, new and old.

I still have that "Don Quixote." It's just over there, under "The Dead Sea Scrolls."

Dana Bate - The Vagabond
(Never Give Up)
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Here you go.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you want or is associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
***************************

Vagabondism 234

2011-12-14T09:49:00.000-05:00

Vagabondism #234 "Come with me and let us try to find that time and place where nothing bad ever happens to anyone."
http://vagabondjottings.blogspot.com/

Guest Author 5

2011-12-14T00:01:00.002-05:00

Guest Author #5
I've always wanted to write a blog, but somehow life always got (and continues to get) in the way. I "dabble" in poetry and some personal diary stuff, but mostly I keep my inner-most thoughts to myself (and my therapist of course). For me, life has been a roller coaster ride - I've been up, down and even sideways at times. Several years ago I was fortunate enough to get to know someone very special, and unfortunate enough to lose him to cancer. I wrote a little story about the relationship which I'd like to share here. It is called "Unhappily Ever After."
Once upon a time, in the vast reaches of cyberspace, two people reached out and found each other in a place both assured the other they had never visited - a chat room. They hit it off from the first word and became great e-mail friends. Both were married, neither wanting to cause any hurt to anyone, but both were missing something in their lives. They talked about everything - life, work, children, feelings, desires, hopes, dreams - anything that came to mind. The extraordinary distance between them (she in USA - he in Sydney, Australia) didn’t make a difference in the feelings they were beginning to have for each other. After a while, they shared personal information and real names, phone numbers, etc. were revealed. With the time difference, he was arriving at his office as she was ending her day - but nevertheless, he called her every day when he arrived at work, just to hear her voice and inquire about her day. They wrote letters, sent cards, photographs and an ongoing barrage of e-mails. They chatted often online - her just awake in the early morning hours of her time - him, tired and sleepy in the late night hours of his time. And their friendship began to grow into something stronger. In his job, he traveled a great deal all over the world. Finally, he had cause to come to the USA on business. They talked about it, planned for it and arranged to meet after his business was finished. She arranged a five day “business” trip and the plan was set. She was so nervous and anxious about this meeting and didn’t know quite how she would react. She was to pick him up at the airport when he flew in from New York and was there waiting with anticipation. When he came through the gate and looked at her with those incredible blue eyes and smiled - all nervousness disappeared and she instantly went into his arms. They spent five glorious days totally wrapped up in each other - talking, making love and laughing together - he laughing at her southern accent, she laughing at his British/Aussie accent. It was as if they had known each other forever. Over the next three years he made several more visits to be with her - and the relationship was perfect. While both felt guilty about the affair, they both knew that they had found something truly special. On his last visit he told her he had not been feeling very well and was going to have some medical tests when he returned home. They talked at length about both making major changes in their lives and turning their worlds upside down to be together forever. Both promised to give it very serious thought, although in their heart, both knew it would never happen. He returned home, underwent testing and his doctor began treating him for what he thought was the problem - inflammation of the spine, problems with his back, etc. After several months of treatment, he was no better so specialized testing was ordered (finally!!). On a dreary day in October he sent her an e-mail to say he had a “large dose of cancer in his pancreas,” it had spread to his liver and was inoperable…. and she cried - alone - as she had told no one of the affair. A few days later he called her and they both cried. He was to begin chemo immediately, and it was decided that it was time he take someone into his confidence about the affair, someone who would keep her informed if he ever became too ill to contact her. So he told his long-time friend about her and how important she was to him. And the battle against the cancer began. He began the chemo and through all the sickness from it, he tried to continue to work part-time just to keep some form of normality in his life. He called and e-mailed when he was up to it, but he was continuing to grow weaker. She prayed, sent him “love and strength vibes” to help him get through it - he told her he would think about her and feel her in his arms to help take his mind off the terrible pain. She took long walks - found a nature trail she loved - a place of solitude to be alone, to cry and to think about this man she loved so dearly - as she had no one she could talk to about him. By March the doctors had told him that the chemo was not working and the tumor was continuing to grow. They gave him only weeks to live. He called her, they talked a long time, neither knowing that it would be the last time they would speak. A few days later he sent what would be his last e-mail, telling her of his love for her, asking her to always smell the roses and think of him and letting her know he would be in touch again soon - either personally or through his friend. By the following week he was bedridden and very ill. His friend visited him often and then called her with reports of his condition and she would send her love. Finally, in late May, the friend called her to say her beloved had died at 1:00 a.m. that morning - she was devastated, couldn’t control her tears. She made excuses at her work of feeling sick and left for the day - to go to her place of solitude and weep. For she knew, that although she was dying inside, she had to maintain a normal appearance at her job and at home. The friend called her every day for the next few days just to make sure she was o.k. - she said she was fine, that she was glad his pain had ended, and she would always love him. She had to find her own way of grieving and dealing with her pain that was eating away at her - as she thought about it, she thought of their “roses” conversations and how appropriate that would be - so she began to always keep fresh roses on her desk, to remind her of him and to remind her to keep her promise to make time in her life to “smell the roses” and make time for herself. They sit next to a little sign she made that says “Don’t cry because it is over. Smile because it happened.” She closes her eyes, remembers his smile and is comforted by its warmth. The friend still calls her from time to time - he promised he would always do that - just to inquire about how she is doing and to see if she needs anything - and she is thankful for this. She has moved on with her life now, but this man she loved is always a part of her, in her heart and often on her mind. She knows how very lucky she was - to have found that one true soulmate in her life and to have loved him so dearly, if only a little while………………and she lived unhappily ever after.
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Look here.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
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Guest Author 4

2011-12-13T00:01:00.002-05:00

Guest Author #4

Christmas…………………….

I remember when Christmas was a fuzzy feeling that started around the beginning of December and warmed its’ way through all the days of the holiday season. I looked so forward to Christmas, not for the presents, but for the chance to be outside in the snow. I could barely wait for the last day of classes when we got to exchange small gifts and bring our lunch to school and then freedom for about ten days. Where I am from, there was always snow and all of the kids would head down to the park and toboggan all day and half the night. No fancy waterproof clothing then, you just layered on what you had and went home soaking wet. Sometimes we skated on the rink the neighbour had made and there was always a game of hockey being played on the street. The Christmas tree in those days was a real one that had been freshly cut. I loved the bubble lights and the angel on top and all the pretty balls and tinsel. The tree smelled wonderful. Whenever I heard the song “You better watch out, you better not cry…..Santa Claus is coming to town” I took that to be a warning and I would never want to be on Santa’s naughty list. I am sure I believed in the magic of Santa Claus till I was about ten or eleven years old, and even then I was very careful about not believing, just in case he was real.

My mother was from Scotland where Christmas took a back seat to First Night. She did not celebrate Christmas with fancy foods and cookies. The recollections I have are of seeing chocolates in the crystal dish, and the scintillating smell of Japanese mandarin Oranges. Those, in themselves, meant Christmas to me and still do even if they are available year round. Christmas dinner was a turkey and Grandma came down for that as she lived only a few miles away. No other family close and no company so we were always free to be outside with the neighbourhood kids and we took advantage of that.

I do not remember specific gifts that I got for Christmas except for the one year I got a bride doll, but we had only a few gifts and were thankful for what we got. They really were not that important and we never presented our parents with long, greedy lists. It would never have occurred to us to do that. We were always excited about the time we got to spend outside with our friends and free from having to go to school.

Christmas now seems to start about the end of August with the arrival of the first Christmas catalogues. By mid October the commercials are starting and the day after American Thanksgiving all hell breaks loose and we are bombarded with ads and pleas to buy this or that for our loved ones. People run around in a frenzy driving themselves into the poor house trying to keep up with what their children have on their Christmas wish list. It has become commercial insanity and the meaning has been so diluted as to render it meaningless. Somewhere in there was a message that a baby was born in a manger, but that barely rates a mention these days.

Now Christmas can be a sad time thinking of friends and family who are no longer here to celebrate with us and makes the lonely feel even more lonely. For many years I worked on Christmas Day, and another time when I had the day off, I had one of the nicest Christmases ever all by myself.

I do think more of the Winter Solstice and the celebration of Yule. The longest night of the year in deepest, darkest December. I enjoy hearing about the pagan rituals from which many of our Christmas traditions are founded. I do enjoy the lights and the special displays. A million Christmas lights can illuminate the December darkness so beautifully.

I used to enjoy the warm blanket of Christmas spirit that wrapped itself around us and when people always seemed to be a little nicer to one another. Not so easy to come by today and the holiday season does not always bring out the best in us. Christmas seems to have changed from a season of fun and festivity to one of obligation and dread and a nightmare to weary people already too busy trying to keep up with life.

It has been said that nothing is sadder in this world than waking up Christmas morning and not being a child. Sometimes we have to find the child within us to rediscover the magic and spirit of Christmas.

My wish for you is that you can find the magic and spirit of the holiday season and that we can all be of good cheer to one another.

pacifica62

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This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
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Guest Author 3

2011-12-12T00:01:00.001-05:00

Guest Author #3

At this late stage of my life, between 50 and death (stolen from Vera in "Auntie Mame") I am still searching for my purpose. I know what I love: children, family, performing, baking,and doing what I can to ease some fellow creature's pain. I believe we are all connected and we are here for each other. I am not a fan of the Republican Party as it shows itself to be without compassion for those without resources. I could ramble on and on about the injustices in the world but then I begin to bore myself.

Thank you, Dana. I do enjoy reading your essays.
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Look here.

This is an invitation for anyone and everyone to post a entry of their own on my journal, Vagabond Journeys http://vagabondjourneys.blogspot.com/.

The end of the year holidays are soon upon us and since it is a time for celebrations, remembrances, resolutions and plans for the future I know that people have a lot to say.

Not to take away from the postings on your journals, but to add to the joy of my own celebrations is why I invite you to write for mine.

I want to read what your thoughts are about this magical time of the year. This invitation is open to everyone: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, Agnostics, Atheists and the Uncertain.

Tell me your thoughts on Chanukah, Christmas, Ashura, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, New Years Eve. or any subject you associate with this holiday season.

There are no limits in regard to length. The only limitation is that, for reasons so far unexplained to me, my blog does not take photographs, animations, videos or pictures of any kind. I deal in words.

Please accept my invitation. Send your entry to my email address dbdacoba@aol.com I will copy and paste it into my journal and it will be displayed promptly. You may sign your name or not as you wish, and you may leave a link to your blog or your email or not, as you wish. I will do NO editing or censoring. Eloquence is not necessary, mind or heart or both is all.

All are welcome. Admission is free.

DB
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Vagabondism 233

2011-12-11T08:02:00.001-05:00

Vagabondism #233 "What some call foolishness, others call courage."
http://tinyurl.com/6xvgzz8