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The Columbia River Gorge: this is a tributary following through a little canyon before flowing into the  Columbia River. My friend and I hiked, through the water of this canyon one hot day, fully dressed. The water came almost to our waist, and my leather sandals, became stiff images of their former self.  It was wonderful. I still remember my friend's perfectly manicured pink fingernails clutching the mossy rocks and we guided ourselves along the rim of this canyon. She was game for just about anytime she could be in water. She's swimming in heaven now, but that day was a mighty close second to it.

 

Have you noticed that some speakers and writers write better than they speak, and some speak better than they write?

One writer I positively adore reading, but not listening to.

Another, a teacher, I love hearing, but fall asleep while trying to read her books.

I suppose it's a rare soul who can achieve both writing and speaking to the reader’s/ listener’s satisfaction. Yet, we expect them to. I know one agent who will not take on a manuscript unless the author is a speaker. Well, that’s a bummer.

There is a phenomenon where a blogger, especially a blogger or a columnist, someone who writes regularly, wears out. “Jumps the shark.” That expression came from the TV show “Happy Days,” when Fonzie, while water skiing, jumped over a shark. That phrase "Jumping the shark," became known as explaining that something has reached it's end, actually it means something has gone a little too far. 

That show should have ended slightly before that episode. Yet, no baseball batter hits a home run every time at bat. It could be that they stay in a rut, or the reader has moved on. Either person can change their interests, become bored, or fall into a cliché.

We either grow together or apart.

So, what is your interest today?

I read a commenter who said she was 70 years old and had weathered many storms, and was tired of people telling her she needed to change. Change this, change that. Another writer said she had it up the kazoo with spiritual truisms, although she was spiritual.  

Maybe stop reading it and live it.

It’s time to declare our greatness and get on with it.

Be selective with what you read. It is so easy to get into something depressing, doom-and-gloom. Hey, give us a break here with you trying to over shock the other writers.

I try to add value, not just listen to my head rattle. Some say you are writing to get attention. So?!! We are all little kids at heart, Mommy, look at me.”

But we grow up and say, “What do I want to share?”  “There is something stuck in me itching for a way out.” This comes after the basic needs are met, like breathing, eating, drinking, shelter, and some modicum of financial security.

We aren’t meant to go through life harvesting fruit only to have it turn to glop in our pocket. In the movie Yentl, “Where is it Written,” Barbra Streisand sang the song, Where is it Written? “Why have the taste if not to drink the wine?”

There comes a time in one’s life when there is a genuine desire to express, to be creative, to contribute, and to have a dialogue with one’s fellow inhabitants. And it doesn’t have to be in words. Have you ever viewed a painting that so inspired you that you wanted to run out and do something creative? That happened to me once with a lounge singer in Las Vegas. I don’t know who he was, or the name of the song, but somehow his song, or his voice, or his rendition of it got to me that evening, and I wanted to go out and write something.

Nature can do that.

Go out and take a forest bath— with awe, not water. (Water works too.) 

Have you ever felt the brush of a horse’s mane, soft and fresh smelling against your cheek, and felt his lips gently nibble-kiss you? Have you ever buried your face in your dog’s fur and felt that gentle curve of his neck as he acknowledges your embrace? 

These are the moments that take our breath away.

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What?! Beauty before the Beast

 

Four days ago I snapped this Magnolia beauty on the way to my truck. Two days later the blossoms were almost all on the ground. The trees seem as frustrated as we do.

 

I have an attitude—so if it comes through, forgive me, but maybe you have one as well, and perhaps when we get “MAD AS HELL,” we will get something done.

Someone wrote the other day that she was sick of spiritual goodies coming her way; she had heard up the kazoo about creating her own reality —that she has it all within—hey, true statements, but becoming cliché and annoying. Like people try to tell you to wake up and be happy while Rome is burning.  The Substack writer said she just needed to get on with her own damn life.

I understand, and Thanks for sharing.

See, we need someone who shares our values and throws rocks at our enemies.

Word rocks, folks. Be reasonable.

Reasonableness—oh yeah, has that been lost too?

Yep, that’s what the controllers want—keep the populas stirred up, afraid, annoyed, disgruntled, separated, so they can get what in the F* they want. Cloud the Epstein files so we will forget about them. Start an illegal war without the approval of Congress, to get us worked up and afraid. How can that man in the White House do that? Why do we let him?

Have we lost all of our senses?

I’m frustrated and angry that we, the people, can do our little marches, eight million of us can come out, oh, the count is up to 9, the last I heard. And I know there are many more who agree with us but don’t go to marches, and others who want to march but live away from the big cities where the action is. Folks have asked, “Is there a No King March close to where I live?

Hey, I know folks who would walk as the Monks did, 2,300 miles to change some of the things they want changed in this US government, LIKE BOMBING! SHOOTING CIVILIANS, ICE IN OUR CITIES. THE PRESIDENT.

I feel frustrated that we can march--all 9 million of us, we can declare that we will not have a King run our country, and the government goes on business as usual. He’s still there.

La do da, go golfing, build a “Ball room, with a bunker beneath (oh that’s the reason it costs so much)—for National Security. We can bomb countries for National Security. We ban foreigners, even the foreign Routers for our WiFi and thus disrupt ‘we the people’s” home WiFi ’networks—for National Security. Continue to produce Roundup even though we have declared it dangerous to health, for National Security. Round up Immigrants—for National Security. Hook up AI to the military, when even the  programmers don’t think that is a good idea. not with Idiots at the controls. and some are talking about a “supercomputer” that can learn faster than we can compute—for National Security.

If we would stop being the f-*ing aggressor we wouldn’t have all this need for “National Security.”

“He’s toast,” some say, but he’s still there.”

“We must wait until the midterms,” they say. Really? Yep, I know he is frightened of them and tells his cabinet, “I Must Win,” or I will be arrested. So, folks, how can we assure a safe, sane, and accurate election?

We humans are wreaking so much havoc that the animals are drinking alcohol. They deserve a happy life. They came here to eat, drink water, make love, find shelter, raise their young, and be happy. We owe them the opportunity.

Hey, we’re animals.

What about us?

 

 

Trump’s dementia is a threat to the world-he must be removed from office! Humanity is at risk Dean Obeidallah Apr 5

On Sunday morning, Trump wrote a threat directed to the Iranian regime that read, “Open the Fuckin’ Strait, you crazy bastards, or you’ll be living in Hell--JUST WATCH!” He then bizarrely added, “Praise be to Allah.”

Allah? We’re under Allah now? I though T wanted us to be Christian. Oh well, whatever suits his fancy.

 

From Ray Bradbury:

“I’ve had a sign over my typewriter for 25 years now which reads ‘Don’t think.’ You must never think at the typewriter, you must feel, and then your intellect is always buried in that feeling anyway. You collect up a lot of data, you do a lot of thinking away from your typewriter, but at the typewriter you should be living.”