I was driving in silence (in the sense of any outside stimuli) and found myself thoughtlessly reaching to turn on the radio to my favorite classical music station. As I did so, I had the thought that in moving my awareness from myself and my thoughts to my music that “entertainment was serving as a type of brain entrainment.” ‘Entrainment’ in this sense means that I was using entertainment to keep my mind from drifting. I wonder what my subconscious was afraid I was drifting towards. Reaching for that dial was my very personal “lane departure warning system” with the automatic self-correction nudge.
I heard myself say, “It’s gone in a flush” when I meant to say, “It’s gone in a flash.” I smiled because both words work to explain a phenomenon. I like “gone in a flush” better for some reason.
Speaking of flushing, I am astounded by the power of P. As in urine. Every public restroom I enter, when I stand at the urinal and look down, I notice the flooring surface is destroyed. It doesn’t matter what the designers have tried to put under the urinal. It melts stone and concrete, floor tile has absolutely no chance. There’s talk about how a Coke can dissolve rust. I wonder if we are missing out on something that someone could sell. They probably already are; they just call it something else.
Some have asked me about eldering, and how one might tell if they are one. Here is one quick test that I find myself using. As I maneuver through the world, I realize I am an elder because my visual prioritizing is looking for a handrail and scouting for a place to sit in case I need to sit down.
“No one lives his life,” is the first line of the poem. It caught my attention. I wonder what the inherent cost to females and to our culture is, when male writers portend to be speaking not just of themselves, but all of humankind. In this case referring to everyone as a “him.” I wonder what would have been lost if he would have said, “No one lives their lives,” which was the point of the poem, as it turns out. I’m guessing had he considered it, or been aware of it, he would have put “No-One.” Not being aware is exactly the point. Being aware of such things, makes one “woke.” An insult these days.
Someone asked me last night how much difference I saw between Russia and America. “Not enough” was my spontaneous reply.
An interviewer asked about egotism. I blurted out, “The less I think of me, the more I try to impress thee;” followed by “The less I like me, the more I need you to.”
I spent the better part of the week with some of the wealthiest folk on earth. Some of the most vilified names on earth were there. The sole purpose of the gathering was philanthropy. I truly love it when my prejudices in subtle and (not so subtle ways) melt away in the warmth of the light of reality.
A friend was singing the praises of the airline Jet Blue so well, that I wanted to start flying it. That got me to thinking. If Jet Blue changed its name to Jet Green, or Jet Purple, I wonder what that would do to their clientele. How that would change Jet Blue’s image, if at all. What would happen if someone tried to start a Jet Red airline?
It is interesting how we humans can pejoratively infect colors with our ideology. During the last administration, I was wearing a Nashville Sounds baseball cap. Red. I found out later that my wearing that hat had scared some people I knew, because of what a red hat had come to represent. Growing up, red was bad (think Russia, the People’s Republic of China, Communists). Suddenly, Red is preferred by some groups of Americans. Interesting. We don’t stop with colors; we infect animals with our ideology also. Consider the innocent (blue) donkey; and (red) elephant.
In my workshops this year I have asked the participants to share a delight that they experienced during the day. The groups have remained in contact, and I have asked them to continue doing that. I share one too. Mine today, was that as I was walking out of the gym, I was flooded with the knowledge that I was able to walk out of the gym, when countless others who could walk yesterday, wouldn’t today and some will never do so again.
In nature, vultures serve a purpose. An important one as I understand. Cleaning up the results of death. I’m not sure that the human form of vulture-ism (the tabloids) is of similar value, though there seems to be an insatiable hunger for them by some; to be fed by such social pornography.
Feeding on the too often tragic bloody gory details of the human experience and selling it back to us is their thing. For a vulture, the carcass they are feeding is dead. For the tabloid vultures, they feed and are fed on those living survivors of such tragedies that are most impacted as much as on the carrion of the deceased. Hopefully, your living bones will not be picked over.
I’d support the idea that all elected officials be required to wear uniforms that sported the logos of their sponsors while performing their elected duties. As NASCAR and INDY CAR drivers, golfers, tennis players, and others who do their thing and are supported by advertisers. Those ‘sponsors’ who paid the most, would have the largest patches. Some would be switching caps during an interview. Debates and all public appearances would require the same. What do you think?