I do hold back here

I wrote something this morning and read it to my wife, barely making it through as it revealed an aspect of myself that was pretty painful. I thought about posting it here, but realized it was probably going to upset people more than anything, so I have taken the liberty of censoring it - but it is proof that the previously mentioned parasite is very much alive and well. I sent it to a few friends already and if anyone requests, can send it out on an individual e-mail basis. It is saved as a draft here, but not an open post.

A little flea

I wrote about the flea back in my college days in the winter of 1984. I recorded the song here back in February of last year, but I will re-post the words at the bottom of this to refresh your memory at your convenience. I wasn't even 19, and I was already dealing with what Ruiz refers to in his books as "the parasite". I tried to google the words "parasite" with "don ruiz" and got a bunch of different responses - and obviously, would encourage anyone reading this to read any of his books. But I know not everyone (if anyone) reading this is going to, and that's fine too. Maybe this post for some of you who go on reading (and really I am not offended if you stop right here) can serve as kind of the reader's digest version for those who want to cut to the chase without taking the time or effort to read the book. I got two from my local library, borrowed another from a neighbor, and ordered one for cheap on Amazon, so this has not been a heavy duty financial investment for me by any means. I know for the die hards he has meetings in Mexico and San Diego that are a little costly for me, but really I feel like I have no need at all to meet him. Once you read any of his books, you get the idea pretty well what he has to say (especially since he has a way of beating it into the ground, but it is such a good point to beat that it's okay). To me, everything he says is common sense, but a certain amount of self-exploration and awareness (either prior to or during the reading) is required. Our neighbor who loaned me the book seemed to have trouble getting past the first few pages, so again, maybe not for everyone.

But rather than re-hash the point in his book, I am going to use it as a jumping board for my own life. I may not even "get it right" so to speak, but I am going to think about it in my own words and experiences. Now amazingly enough - he says we should not blame our parents for what has happened to us. In the end, they did the best they could, and had their own demons to face, so blaming them and getting angry at them is not going to help. So I am not going to dwell on this too much, but I know for a fact that I did not always hear very encouraging messages as a child. In fact - some of them were very hostile, demeaning, humiliating and destructive and could be interpreted as a basic attack and assault on any hope of having self-confidence. Now granted - there was some genuine love I experienced as well, so it was not all one sided. But - to deny hearing them, or that they never happened - (as some may do) does not serve me either, because that is living in denial - and putting on a smiling face while your internal demons terrorize you inside is just simply not very effective. But on some conscious level - realizing that whatever compelled these adults (and even some kids my age) to say these things to me was a result of their own internal battle, and not personal - helps put things in perspective as well. Everyone is fighting their own battle and living their own dream as Ruiz says, which is why one of the "four agreements" is to not take anything personally.

In chat rooms - as I know first hand - people assume certain names, identities - and some even have individual rooms named after them. Those people can start to feel very inflated, and even tell other members who is allowed to be in those rooms (it is all very territorial - like empty cyberspace has any territorial value to be claimed to begin with). Like anything if you get caught up in it - as I did - you can respond to every word like it is a personal slap in the face, but they are just names on a screen and some times you have no idea if the woman who is saying she is a hot babe is really a 400 pound 80 year old man, or if what anyone is saying is really true on any level at all. It is just a word on the screen, and imaginations are free to run wild as they do. Once you step back, as I have done you can look back at everyone completely caught up in it like they are in a spell and think - wow - how can they really take that stuff personally. But really - it is the same in real life. Everyone is living their own dream, and nobody really sees me - sees every thought in my head, they just see the face or projection that they want to see and apply it to the dream they are having. So I don't need a female to tell me I am beautiful - because I should already know that by now. When anyone tells us anything positive or negative, and we respond to it in kind as most of us do, we are taking it personally. Every thought we are having - including how we personalize others - is an individual dream - and the world is just a collage of all of the dreams combined, "the dream of the planet" as he writes.

But getting back to the parasite again, the reason getting caught up in blame, anger and rage toward the people who raised you or were part of your childhood does not work - is that most if not all of those people are gone now, and the real battle is taking place between the ears. Whatever I have internalized all of those years is now a part of me, regardless of where it came from. I have now made it a part of me. I have a confident, loving, spiritual and compassionate side of myself - and I know that is what has gotten me through to where I am today. Sometimes it is a "voice" that is hidden among darker ones, or comes out in creative writing or song writing, but somehow I have been able to access it. To continue to access it is a constant challenge even today. It is why I try to devote some time every day to picking up my guitar, singing, and getting into a meditational state - because I constantly have to remind myself of that side of me in times when the darker voices seem to be in charge.

My personal parasite can be described by some of my personality traits. I grew up basically "comfortably numb" to a certain degree. I don't have happy memories of growing up, as much as memories of feeling a need to run on auto pilot, do my homework for fear of failing, get good grades, and try to get by on as little available emotional nourishment as possible. I wanted love from others, but did not feel worthy of it - so I had an impossible time asking a girl out (and the one time I tried at 13 and was turned down just re-inforced my own feelings of myself). I would continue to try to psyche myself into approaching or asking out a teenage girl I was interested in who also appeared to be interested, but because of my low self esteem I could not bring myself to do it, which in turn got me even more down on myself (what the hell is wrong with you, why can't you ask her out) and it was like the old water everywhere but not a drop to drink. I blamed myself for not having the confidence, and getting down on myself just made it worse. That is one central aspect of the "parasite" is self-assault. There is already a destructive behavior in place (low self confidence) and then since you believe you are suppose to be something (confident) that you are not, you get down on yourself for not being what you should be - but in fact have little control of at that point anyways, and then the assault is happening not once but twice. That is why for any type of change to happen you have to first accept yourself completely for everything you are, because getting down on yourself just re-inforces the control of the parasite.

I continued on - getting through high school - but my most dramatic encounter with the parasite was in college. It was the first time I was away from my parents. On the positive side, I met some of my best friends who I am still in touch with to this day there, friends who I had never experienced to that level before and for the most part after that time. But the real blow came in my choice of careers. In my auto-pilot mode I had just assumed I could essentially be like my father, become a computer programmer and make a decent living. I had a certain amount of confidence in high school in that I had gotten good grades in everything so far. But, UC San Diego was a different level altogether and coming across "refraction" in my first computer programming class - was a complete threat to me - in that I could not figure it out. My father can blame the class - in that it was a "self paced" class which allowed procrastination to take hold, but ultimately I think what happened is that when I couldn't get it for the first time, I panicked - freaked out and two things happened. I realized that I was not talented in that direction for one thing, and doubted myself. But on a deeper level, I could no longer hide behind the mold of getting a safe career in computers, and had to face the question of "who am I" that I had avoided up to that point - and really look at it, instead of running from it as I had all my life. I was not ready to deal with that question at the age of 18 and 19. When some of my dorm people locked me out of a room as a practical joke, rather than dealing with it in stride, I instead gave it as an excuse to break my ankle, which then set the stage for me smoking marijuana to feel good, withdrawing into myself, and still hiding from that ever consuming want and desire to be with a member of the opposite sex that I could not seem to make happen in real life.

I could look back at that confrontation now as a blessing and a curse - a curse in that financially I could not make the money doing a field that others have that have allowed them to live more comfortably - or a blessing in that it steered me into a less financially rewarding but for me - more enjoyable - career that I have now - but I am glad everything turned out the way it did. I am simply not meant to be a computer monkey staring at a screen trying to figure out a computer program - that is not who I am. I can take that side of me to figure out estimates and use it in the insurance field, but forcing yourself to be something that you are not is also an essential aspect of the parasite - because it goes against your inner nature which ultimately creates more turmoil and conflict, when you try to fit yourself into a puzzle piece that does not fit. To this day my folks still think I should have been a computer programmer, but sorry to say it - I know better.

But moving back to that time period, that who am I dilemma, the pot smoking, lonliness and frustration with women ultimately led me into a mind blowing depression where everything seemed to fall apart all around me and I had to leave school on more than one occasion. It was the most hellish and miserable point in my life, but I can say this - it brought out a certain side of me into the light that I had never really clearly seen before - and that was a very clear and present self hatred - which to me is the ultimate parasite. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and feeling such contempt and loathing - because I had failed. I thought what is wrong with me, how come everyone else can do it and I can't. I thought of life as something that was meant for people who were stronger than I was, that I was too weak to survive in the game, and I really felt like I was not meant to be on this planet. So - as far as some of the actual physical actions that took place at that time, I won't go into them as most people who know me already know what I tried to do, and luckily I was able to survive that period and come back out of it and get back on track. But I don't look back on it and just say - I was just going through a depression, it was just a phase and distance myself from it - because the self-hating aspects of the "parasite" really came to life then and let me know that a part of me I had in essence denied was very much a part of my life.

Although I was able to get through school, I have carried the monkey on my back to this day. Slowly but surely my life experiences have led me into the battle with myself and shown that even if on some level I did not have any faith in myself, what ultimately happened in the end slowly built my confidence. When I first looked for a job, I was terrified - stuttering in the interviews. I felt a certain connection with one on campus interviewer, and got my first start in retail at a well known department store. I was terrified there as well, but found I could get by, and then was once again tested when I lost my job there. I again encountered a familiar state of hopeless anxiety, and back when I was living with my friend Joe during this time, somehow I tapped into that spiritual side of me, and was able to find some hope and believe that somehow it was all going to turn out right, and that was when I landed the job that almost 17 years later, I still have.

There were several tests there as well. I was completely terrifired at the prospect of picking up the phone to talk to people, but after being thrown into the water a little at a time, I started to realize that I could do my job, and do things that I never knew I could. People at work said I slowly came out of my shell as they knew me, from a very shy person afraid of his shadow, to someone with some confidence. I had a person in charge of me - dealing with his own parasite - who put me in a position reminiscent of my childhood, where his own self-hatred came in a screaming direction toward me - and I at a critical point learned to stand up to him and get him to back off. And I have had my challenges up to this day in asserting myself with others, standing my ground, and realizing that I am more than just a doormat to be walked upon. But every time the challenge happens, it is often in the form of a sleepless night or emotional upheaval, but every time I get through it, I feel a little bit better of myself. I guess this goes against the notion of "don't take anything personally", but I know for a fact that I am damn good at what I do, that I am reliable, conscientious - and efficient - and this is not only reflected in my own feelings, but by others as well. Apparently I have a "good reputation" here. I work hard and do what it takes to get the job done, and I am proud of that.

I love my wife, but as both of us are people who have a self-hating side to us, than it is not surprising that at times we can turn our own rage toward the other. So even now - when her voice starts to sound very familiar to me as the voice of one who raised me, I have learned to see that I am not the one she is describing, that it is her own rage against herself turned in my direction - and that is one of the best exercises in not taking something personally that one can try. Because I know that I am not the person she is describing, and so I have learned as best as I can to tune it out. (As I read this to her, I am sure she is saying - no you really ARE those things, but regardless of what she says - I know better). I can either let the words hook up with my own self-hating parasite, as I have done before, or I can dig deeper and realize that I'm "good enough, I'm smart enough, and darn it people like me" as Stuart Smalley says. I KNOW I am not the bad person being described. But to take it a step further, even if they DON'T like me, that does not matter anyways, because it is ultimatley themselves and not me that they are directing their dislike toward, so ultimately whatever they think of their perception of what I am - IT DOESN'T MATTER!

So - in my view - the parasite to me is the part of me that says I am going to fail, that I can't do it, that I don't deserve love, I don't deserve to live, that I am not worthy of anything - the part of me that falls into fear and anxiety when a challenge approaches. My parasite came to life this morning as I hesitated in even writing this because I thought what do I have to say, Ruiz already said it, so why bother - but this for me is all about putting my own individual experience into words because it helps me. If it helps others on the way, as I have heard people tell me - that is great - but ultimately it starts and ends with me, and this writing as a form of creative writing - just like my songs and writings - has been my anecdote to the parasite, or flea as I write below. It is an ongoing battle which is not over by any stretch, but looking back to what I once was I can see how far I have come - and if I can do it, I bet you can do it too. And if I have come this far, I can go further yet. This song below was inspired by a woman who I was frustrated with, but ultimately 22 years later I can see that it was an internal, and not an external battle. Here it is once again. Feel free to go back to the February 05 archives to listen to me singing it if you are so inclined:

FLEA (1984)

A LITTLE FLEA AS DARK AS NIGHT, JUMPS UP ON ME AND TAKES A BITE
IT NEEDS MY BLOOD SO IT CAN LIVE, AND LOVES TO TAKE, BUT HATES TO GIVE

IT JUMPS AROUND FROM HERE TO THERE, TO PROWL FOR SIGNS OF FUR OR HAIR
AND LEAVES A BITE IF YOU'RE AROUND, AND THEN SEEKS OUT SOME OTHER CLOWN

THE LITTLE FLEA, IS DUMB AND SMALL - IT REALLY IS NO THREAT AT ALL
FOR THOUGHT IT STEALS MY SO BLOOD SO BRIGHT, IT ONLY LEAVES A LITTLE BITE

BUT LET THAT FLEA INSIDE MY BRAIN, AND IT COULD MAKE ME GO INSANE
SO FREE TO TRAVEL SECRET PLACES, COLLIDING WITH MY DARKEST SPACES

BUT I HAVE A MIND, AND IT HAS DONE, WE'LL FIGHT IT OUT UNTIL IT'S DONE
AND ONCE I GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD, I'LL SMASH IT DOWN UNTIL IT'S DEAD

Believe

Believe

Seems like everyone has it and you feel so left out
Their families, education, careers, and a two story house
You try to live up, but you don’t compare
..to what they have, are you even there?

Everyone’s trying to win the best score
Just the world we live in, doesn’t have to be yours
But none of it gets you through heaven’s door
There’s no way to have less, no way to even have more

It’s your spirit that makes you a work of art
Stop beating yourself, it’s a perfect place to start
Just start to believe, and that’s all that you have to do
Believe in yourself, the way I believe in you

People will want you for what you are
For that glowing compassion that shines in your heart
Your love for others, that shines through your skin
For your beauty without, and your beauty within

Put one foot in front, the other follows behind
See your beautiful heart, and your beautiful mind
Pray to the goddess, for your closed eyes to see
You are everything now you’ve ever wanted to be

Just be who you are, it can be the only way
Speak from your heart, and you’ll know just what to say
Just start to believe, and that’s all that you have to do
Believe in yourself, the way I believe in you

Just look at that massive bald spot - I am getting old! 

A feast of friends 

Surrendur to the schwag

This post may be a little out there, so for anyone who just reads this to see how I am doing - I am doing fine, you are excused now. If you continue to read I can't assume any risks for how this may or may not affect you. Some of you may not be familiar with the term "schwag" (no intentional resemblance to the slight familiarity in consonants to the original last half of the last name of my sister in law). Well - along with Mr. Liver, we became familiar with this term after seeing a series of Phish shows in the Denver Red Rocks Ampitheater, about 10 years ago. The term is a reference to illegal drugs, and those of you who finish reading this may conclude I was on drugs when I wrote this, but in fact it has been a good two decades since marijuana has been any part of my regular lifestyle, and almost a decade since I have even touched it. For an actual definition, let's go to some highlights from our friendly online urban dictionary site:
schwag: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=schwag

"adj. Term used to describe low grade marijuana. This type of marijuana is usually brown, seedy, dry. The term is also used by many pot heads to describe anything that is low grade.
noun. low grade marijuana
adj- Ewww this schwag ass weed tastes horrible and it didnt get me very high.
noun- I hate smoking schwag, but i cant get any dank right now so i guess i'll have to.
Poor quality brown marijuana. The cheapest variety available, the least potent. Also sometimes jokingly referred to as schwiggity-schwags or even schwaggles.
Schwag is the antithesis of kind
This schwag won't get me high, but I keep trying.
fucking shitty ass weed
this is fuckin schwag!"

In other words - schwag is the opposite of "kind" or "dank". Some people not familiar with the drug culture do not know that there are various grades and qualities, just as there are with wine, beer, or just about anything else that makes you feel temporarily good at the expense of your brain and body. But now that we are familiar with what it means, I will spend the rest of this post using the term in a metaphorical sense, and I did write a song about it a while back, but I will refrain from recording for the time being.

Let's start with the concept of wanting to get high to begin with. Why would someone want to do that? Well - for myself, speaking probably for others as well, I was in a mental rut at the time, kind of stuck, could not feel good naturally - and so I chose artificial means to do that. So when you want to get high, but you can't - to me schwag is a perfect term to capture that sense of being stuck in a rut, depressed, stale, flat, uninspired, down and out - you get the idea. Now that opposite state of feeling good - which can be accomplished by the dank or kind, I will to make things simple, refer to that elevated state as a term some of you may be familiar with - "cheese". So - to sum up - there are two essential states of existence, the flat, frustrated, uninspired down and out "schwag" and then that glowing state of happiness and inspiration that I have often shared with you here - "cheese". Now my experience with these states as well, is that unless they are in their extreme states as I experienced in my college days (even then, they lasted a long time but eventually faded, they are ultimately temporary. The Buddhists try to teach us that through meditation, we should not get too attached to either one of them, because neither one of them will last, so we should not get too attached to our fleeting emotions. There may be some who have transformed and meditated to the point that the scwhag like states are a thing of the past for them, but I think that most of us do experience them both.

As far as "cheese" goes - we need to experience it, at least some times. I don't think anyone of us choose to or want to be in a schwag like state forever, and when we get stuck in it for too long, some of us do desperate and destructive things in a desperate attempt to re-unite with the cheese. These include putting things in our body that are not good for us. I may be above drugs and alcohol now, as they both no longer interest me any more, but I struggle with my weight, eating things I should not, and at 205 and 5'11, I always seem to have a little friend above my waist that never quite goes away. Then there is the "natural cheese" that is less destructive - the inspiration of nature, our spiritual feelings, love of family and friends - and this can be beneficial, but like I said before - getting too attached can be a problem, because at some point the cheese and schwag go back to back, and where one is, the other may not be far away - kind of like the classic "ying and yang".

And now this brings me to the whole concept of romantic love. Nature really messes us up in my opinion. We are inherently programmed to want to mate, reproduce, and then raise our children, but then this little devil voice in our head tells us to stray outside and get some "fresh" cheese, so to speak. And our own western culture does not help us here, because as Robert Johnson states in his "We" book, we are a culture that believes in romantic love. And in my experience, romantic love is fleeting. No matter how much I love and adore my wife, I cannot stay in love with her to the extent of when I first met her. I would like to say we experience the same passion of our first days - and maybe at times it comes back, but ultimately, we are both 10 years older - and even though SHE may want passion all the time, I have a hard time keeping up with her (okay - you can apply the opposite rule to that one). So like the hundreds of millions of married people this has happened too, there were times when we were both drawn to members of the opposite sex outside of our marriage. Our culture tells us we should expect romance in our relationships, but unless we go from one relationship to another, which can be pretty lonely, than the reality is we have to live in an un-romantic relationship if we want it to last - hence the term "surrendur to the schwag".

Our own culture does not help us here. All the love songs, romance novels, all the cheesy influences of the American commerical realm tell us we should be in love, damn it. I happened to suffer through some Great American Country TV at the gym the other day (GAC of all things, abbreviated for a vulgar term - Jim Rome - Bill Clinton "gacked" Monica's dress). Even though I was spared the volume of having to actually listen to that crap, I could see the blond haired bimbo Barbee singing into the camera with longing looks in her eyes, followed by the perfectly handsome Kens doing the same thing - and I thought - no wonder we are so screwed up here. Even my favorite groups like the Beatles spent their first years writing about this (I'm in love with her and I feel fine) and it took the much less influential artists like Frank Zappa to point out how impossible this is in reality, in such unknown classics as "I have been in you". So many couples that are doing fine, but feeling that missing longing romance in their lives, fail to "surrendur to the schwag" and in that search for temporary elusive cheese, they blow the whole thing and become part of the staggering divorce numbers in this country. And I guess I am kind of old fashioned, because I believe that unless you are physically being abused (I guess emotional isn't great either), but if you are in a relationship with mutual respect - why screw it all up - especially if kids are involved?

So my answer here is to "surrendur to the schwag" and be grateful for what you have. You can still feel the romantic feelings when they come - and they don't even have to always be with the one you are with, but feel them without physically acting on them and responding to the call of the siren, so to speak. Because behind every tempting piece of cheese, a deeper schwag awaits - and after the passionate affair falls apart - as it ultimately and inevitably will, then you are left with even less than what you had before. And this applies to drugs too - that fleeting feeling of feeling good is replaced with a stupid head, hangover, crappy feeling - that can only be replaced by doing more of the same, and feeling even worse in the end. I once flirted with gambling and had the sense to back away from that too, but in the end that can destroy everything too as has been documented, and one of the complaints I have about the great state of Nevada which to a certain extent sells its soul to the devil by being acquainted with such a destructive force.

I know some of us get caught up in the "grand pecking order" and fall trap to the cheese of material possessions, what Buddhists refer to as "samsara" which even has a resemblance to the scwhag term. And I know money is essential to survival, but I still think no matter how big your house is, no matter how much you show it off and the implied size of your genital organs the size symbolizes, that ultimately our material possessions can only do so much for us, and as the analogy goes in the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, it is like reaching for a glass of water and drinking sand in return. Any physical item is just a block of material, and the thrill and rush of one wears off, and only more purchases of temporary fleeting satisfaction can live up to that same rush. Part of my job involves visiting many million dollar homes, and I always seem to sense that no matter how elaborate, grand and definite the cheese is on the outside, that the same schwag pokes through and equalizes every home, from a run down one bedroom apartment to a million dollar two story home.

So in short, my surrendur to the "schwag" philosophy is this - as long we have what we physically need to survive, we should be grateful for what we have, for the companions we do have, whoever they are, even if they don't give us that elusive thrill of cheese. The grass is not greener on the other side of the hill, and we are meant to be exactly where we are standing, and nowhere else. Our paths bring us to every portion of the trail for a reason, and even if they bring us to some depressing shwag like states, that the best way to get to the other side is to embrace them, and let the natural cheese embrace us when it does, and do it in a healthy, not destructive way. This is your friendly "Captain Cheese" signing off for now.

With a little help from my friends 

by the shack 

One happy Valentines party in first grade 

Got the shade in mah face 

Everything's a little upside down 

Love is a flower you got to let it, you got to let it grow

(John Lennon - Mind Games)

Today is Valentine's Day - and although it may be a celebration of romantic love I think it is a good time to pay tribute to love overall. So at the risk of going overboard with cheese (you have been warned) let me do that. I want to express the love I have for everyone in my life - all of my friends, family, my wife, and everyone who has come into my life, past and present. Maybe I have been upset at you at one time in the past, but I still love you anyways. I have held some anger, resentments, and grudges in the past - but other than getting myself real worked up about them, they ultimately don't do anything but keep me from sleeping real well. If you have ever done anything to upset me, you are hereby forgiven - even if you never apologized. I in turn hope if I have done anything to upset you, that you can find it in your heart to do the same. Peace is a much better way to live life than war, and harboring anger is almost like containing a virus - all it does is make you sick. So maybe there is a self-interest in my hippie like sentiments, but what do you want, perfection here? (if I was real hip I would say "lol" but I did get a laugh out of my own statement there)

My life is not perfection. Sometimes I resort to sadness - a very familiar state for me. Some times I freak out over stupid things. Some times I worry about things that really aren't worth it. But in spite of my shortcomings - I am at a point where I am very grateful to be alive, with two full time companions that add so much meaning to a person who has lived much of his life alone. Between the full moon rising over the Pine Nut Mountains yesterday, bursting like a white sun from the palm of a hand into the desert sky, the glowing mountains around me, a beautiful wife, a beautiful daughter, sometimes I wonder how I was able to arrive at a point where there is so much beauty in my life, but here it is - and it continues to inspire me every day. To anyone who has ever come into my life, you were part of made this possible - so I am expressing my gratitude and love for allowing my life to be such a magical place at times (I continue to aim to make those magical times in the majority).

Thanks to all the females in my life. I have never stopped loving anyone I once knew on an intimate level, though our paths have mostly separated (although I am still in touch with one of them). I love the female energy, the female face, (not too mention the body). Although I love my wife dearly, to some extent I am in love with all women - what the hell would my life would be without women in it anyway? Doesn't mean I am running off to have relations with them, but I can appreciate their beauty, the sound of their voices, their clothes, their looks - their presence - and just stand in awe of how beautiful a woman is. Out of all the wonders that nature has to offer, a woman is still the most beautiful and inspiring of all of them. And yet in my universal appreciation of women in all shapes and sizes, I can still come home to my dearly beloved wife and know that my home is with her, that she is my love and best friend, and that out of all the lovely women in the world, my true place is with her - to the point of "death do us part" and maybe even beyond that.

I love my friends too - and most of them are guys. I know - once you say I love you to a guy, it is immediately assumed you are dying to jump in bed with him, but I can say it without feeling like I am a flaming homosexual - and even if I have any unconscious tendencies in that direction at all (as one of my songs may suggest) I am too taken by women to ever really consider acting on them, unless I either get thrown in prison and am surrounded by them, or all the females drop off the face of the earth, but until that happens...oh never mind. But I do love my friends - the ones I have stayed in touch with for close to half of my life, but even the ones I have known much less than that - my friends add so much depth to my life, even if they are not around my actual home town - reading e-mails, talking on the phone - my friends have put up with me over the years - and at some point or another we have told each other to f*ck off, but we have come back around anyways - and thanks for being there, wherever you are - I won't mention your names, and some may not be reading this but you know who you are.

I have today off to spend with my beautiful wife, and to meet up some friends. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!

Every fear i swallow makes me small

(Peter Gabriel - Darkness)

I was brave enough to actually run the program to post a few pictures as it did not agree with my last computer, but as soon as I posted them, I un-installed it to hopefully prevent any future problems. Because I have to install the program each time, I will not be posting pictures so much. As you can see at the bottom, our house no longer looks like and unidentified flying object, and looks more like a normal house. We took the drive to Wilson Canyon south of Yerington yesterday, an all day trip covering over 100 miles. Now that Chicago appears to be out, Victoria wants to move to Yerington instead (whatever). But anyways, pictures don't really do it justice, but it feels like the entire earth opens up at one point with the mountains surrounding on two sides - and it is quite an amazing place.

There is one spot where the only way to cross Walker River is on an old rusty metal bridge. It is not exactly inviting and a little intimidating, but as long as you hold the rail and try not to think too much about the sharp rocks underneath you that you would fall into, it is somewhat safe. Sara took one step on it behind me and said it felt like Shrek, and she went running away crying, but then she saw me go across and realized she could do it too. After that, she was fearlessly climbing the rock slopes - she has turned into quite the adventurer. Well, after going back and forth, she decided she wanted Mama to come with her. I did not think Mama would be up for it, but somehow she made it across. Because the bridge has open metal grating, the kind like you see at a cattle divide in the road, my dog would not come anywhere near it. So Victoria made it all the way across, but once she got to the final step, at that point she was paralyzed with fear. You have to take a step up onto a rock, and Victoria already blew out her ankle while walking Amit in San Diego the year before Sara came along, and that one final step seemed too much. I shouted out to ask if she was okay, and she nodded her head no - so I told her I had to walk the dog all the way back to the car before I could walk across and assist her. So I was starting to take that long walk back, when Sara of all people stumbled down the embankment to assist her. 7 year old Sara came down, guided her, and assured her it was okay to take the step behind her back onto the bridge - and essentially rescued her from her state of paralyzing fear and allowed her to walk back safely across the bridge.

I kicked myself for not getting a picture of it, but not only was I a little concerned as well, I also could not believe it was happening either.

just look at that smile 

where's the confounded bridge 

Has anyon seen the bridge? 

the next Miss America in 11 years 

"Try to beat the masses...and"

go get yourself some cheap sunglasses 

Who's that funny looking dude.. 

the two most important females in my life 

"Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?"

the love of my life.. 

"I drag them from the mountain top"

you'll need a two car garage 

Our house

in the middle of the street 

Wilson canyon

king of lizards 

This is my street...

This is my street, and I’m never gonna to leave it,
And I’m always gonna to stay here
If I live to be ninety-nine,
’cause all the people I meet
Seem to come from my street
And I can’t get away,
Because it’s calling me, (come on home)
Hear it calling me, (come on home)

Ray Davies/The Kinks - Autumn Almanac

I hate to sound dramatic, though I have a flare for that - but the way I feel about where I live comes down to this - other than leaving this area in a body basket, that is the only way I will leave it. I love Victoria and Sara more than anything, and I would do ALMOST anything for them, but leaving this area and moving to hell is not an option. After doing some research on the area, calling someone I vaguely know who lives in the area, checking on line with real estate prices - first of all, I simply can't afford it - that is - unless we want to severely drop our current standard of living - but more than anything - I belong here. Maybe it is completely irrational and it does not make much sense to someone who can't relate to this, but I feel like I live in an area which is paradise ("Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light,rising up to paradise, I know I'm gonna shine")

I am often a person who tends toward the depressed side (as I was on a typical Saturday yesterday) and my own wife and some of my friends have placed the irrevocable "fragile" label on me, and I need to be here - that simple. Maybe my loved ones need to be somewhere else - and I can get that too. "Whatever makes her happy, I won't stand in the way (B Dylan)" - if Victoria needs to live out there to be with that ever elusive and all supporting "family" of hers - the same family that quite frankly has not DONE SHIT for her EVER - well - so be it. I hereby extend a life time pass for her to be there as much as she wants and needs to be, but in the words of John Lennon "don't you know that you can count me out". At this point our future is now as it always has been in the hands of fate. I can only do my part, and no more. I cannot rescue her from her dilemma - although quite frankly, I have been praying frantically for her - but my own self-decapitation is not the answer to her problems. Our relationship - like death itself - is always one day away from arriving at its final destination - life on the edge so to speak, but I guess that is what makes its fun in its own little way.

But getting back to this area - "I can't explain, I think it's love", "statements just seem vain at last" why I love it so much. Maybe it borders on the manic and irrational side of me, but there are times when I am walking my dog in the valley here, or driving through the area - the mountains, ever expanding blue skies, pine trees, valleys, waters - and I feel just completely inspired - and for me that is church - inspiration ("move me brightly") whatever you want to call it. It kind of feels like having died and gone to heaven ("but even the rainbows will end"), and I feel completely at one with my surroundings - and I have never really felt that anywhere before this (some times during my "manic" phase in San Diego, but this type of "mania" is much more manageable to be certain) - and every instinct in me tells me I belong here - now and forever to my dying day. My next song I am playing with is on the notion of wanting to spend my dying day here, whenever that may be, whether it is tomorrow or 50 years away - I want to die where my dog Amit died, here in this valley with the mountains and desert air surrounding me. Whether this is "selfish" or not because it does not tie in with the views of this place with my wife, well - who knows - all I know is we all are where we need to be - THIS - is where I need to be, and she is going to have to decide for herself where she needs to be on her own. I can only live my own life, and be there to support her in every way I possibly can, but not to the point where moving to another place away from the home I love would make me borderline suicidal - that is not going to accomplish anything for anyone.

A little change from the topic here, but my prayers seem to have done something. One of our valued friends, who we tend to clash with at times (her name is also a musical instrument and she is an admitted reader of this blog) finally came around and realized that I was right and she was wrong (okay not exactly like that) but bottom line is our cold spell appears to be over and we are all friends again, and maybe my prayers had something to do with that. Who knows - but we are glad to have her back - she is one of our best friends out here and we are very fortunate to know her. We love you - thanks.

Victoria also has met a Colombian friend from the gym and despite her attempts to scare her away (telling her in a joking manner that she was "on drugs" was not a good move at all) they still seem to be civil, they even had lunch together. Never mind that this woman is highly materialistic and traditional, you can't have everything. We also met a nice lady at a neighbor's house who seems to be another free spirit and there is potential there too - so maybe prayer works after all. I heard from an old friend from my gas buddy days who has followed a similar path to mine - she fell in love with someone from the site also, it almost threatened her marriage, but like me - she went into counseling and was able to save her marriage from the wrecking yard. It is also encouraging to know that others have been down that same dark road and managed to come out on the other side.

Well - that is about enough for Sunday morning. I am hoping we get to go out to a beautiful canyon by Yerington today, as it never happened yesterday - but I did discover there is an amazing topper for a mattress at Costco which makes an amazing difference in comfort for sleeping.