OFF KILTER?!
It's been rather wild around here this summer.
Everything seems to be spinning.
However sometimes going in circles
can be rather pleasant.
Let's take a whirl...
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Come back little Sheba
Everyone knows the old expression
about house guests. In theory like
fish they stink after three days. After
all, one can easily have their full of
cohabitation post a period of time.
However we recently had a visitor
who could never have over stayed
her welcome. Seven days post her
arrival under our roof we sadly had
to say farewell. And after her exit,
our home and hearts felt empty. All
we wished was that sweet Stella the
Schnauzer was still in residence!
Of course we also enjoyed Stella's
owners ("B" & "J".) Yet if we're
brutally honest, it's their faithful
and furry companion who we will
miss most. When you haven't had
a pet for decades one easily forgets
what it's like to have a mutt around
the house. Stella is the perfect guest
and hence, reminded us of just how
much pleasure and joy man's best
friend can provide. While initially
reluctant to give into temptation,
by the weeks end we were hooked.
Babies provide unconditional love
however as one's children mature -
they move on to build a life of their
own. Whereas a puppy's love only
grows with age. Once part of your
household they are there no matter
what. In good times and bad times,
always ready with a reassuring lick
or wag of their tail. Somehow their
optimistic naivete actually makes
things better. For obvious reasons
we prefer puppy to pussy. So why
isn't there a dog around our house?
Till now the joys of canine cohabitation
haven't seemed worth the responsibility.
After all, having a third mouth to feed
requires a long term commitment. We
love traveling and have no desire to be
guilty parties leaving loved ones behind.
Therefore a tinge of theoretical angst has
delayed our procuring a pooch. Yet after
this past week I'm more more than ready.
Post seven days of hearing my beloved
cooing baby talk to a furry friend - I've
got a hunch Frank agrees. Or once more
am I barking up the wrong tree?
Before anybody starts sending us dog
gifts I want to assure you that we're
not doing anything soon. Anticipation
can be just as satisfying as the actual
act. Therefore we'll think about it for
a bit more. Fortunately said decision
process will be fueled by memories of
a perfectly trained dog who will only
be missed. They say absence makes
the heart grow fonder. Let's hope that
our recent bout of familiarity breeds
a miniature French Bulldog! Now, if
only we could name her STELLA...
Friday, August 7, 2015
MAN UP
For years I've stated "Men are pigs
but I love pork!" A man who loves
men, I know them all too well. My
hands on experience aside, I've seen
the underside of manhood. Boys
will be boys. Hence many males
act rather childish at times. They
want their way and therefore will
do whatever it takes to make that
happen. Guys can be delusional
especially when playing offense
or defense. That's usually when the
trouble starts and man... watch out!
I'm often ashamed at how my sex
behaves in public. If what goes on
in Washington is any indication -
we cavemen have not evolved. In
fact I'm convinced that the majority
of male politicians really do hail
from Mars. Otherwise why would
they behave like aliens sans any
sense of decency. Whether liberal
or or conservative. All I ask is that
you behave like a gentleman. Or...
go back to outer space where you
obvious belong. FLY AWAY!
Some gents seem to feel that killing
is the ultimate of manly pursuits.
Otherwise why would some dentist
from Minneapolis fly all the way to
Africa just to prove his manhood?
Whether mounting hunting trophies
or trophy wives - some guys feel the
need to over compensate for their
shortcomings. Size shouldn't matter
yet many men seem unable to rise
to the occasion Instead they shoot
first, think after. Nothing is scarier
than a coward with too much power.
It's oft said that if you lie with dogs
you'll get fleas. However many men
in leadership positions assume that
being untruthful is the only way to
be top dog. Honesty will always be
the best policy. Sadly some of said
alpha dogs prefer barking up the
wrong tree. Their winning against
all odds means that in the end we
become their bag men - and hence
must clean up their mess. Our lives
would be much easier if we could
send those boys to obedience school.
Now, after reading the above
you probably assume I abhor
the alpha sex. Given I share
my life with another man that
isn't the case. There's nothing
as inspiring, magnificent, nor
moving as a kinder, gentler
gentleman. Unlike macho men
some boys can see beyond sex,
color, or creed to treat all with
respect. And in my opinion
the sexiest of men are whose
who act as real men should.
We each have a responsibility to make
this world a better place. Most women
that I've had the privilege to know and
love take that literally to heart. We've
come a long way baby yet some gents
still rebel against equality. However
man caves, shots, and arrogance do
nothing to prepare us for the future.
Isn't it time we boys "man up?" To
humbly step forward and do what's
right rather than grandstand for self
aggrandizement? C'mon gentlemen
it's time to walk the walk like men!
Thursday, August 6, 2015
I HAVEN'T ANY IDEA...
It's rare but once in awhile there comes
a day when even I can't think of a thing
to say. Usually a subject or idea pops up
and inspires a missive. Often one image,
word, or experience fuels an entire day's
diatribe. But occasionally I draw a blank
and today is one of those days. So... what
should we do about it? We could sit here
and stare at each other. Or both of us can
walk away from our computers and hope
that some sort of inspiration will follow
shortly. I don't want to waste your time.
So I've got to think of something NOW.
Personal expression is the most natural
of art forms. When inspiration hits -
fabulousness soon follows. However
try as I might this morning nothing as
of yet has piqued my interest. I search
the Internet for inspiration and so I did
just that. Not even an inkling of an idea
popped up. However... I did find several
odd images that if nothing else gave me
something to think about. Given I'm at
a loss for words I've decided to share
them with you so that we can finish
today's blog before I start tomorrow's!
I find this snippet of a snapshot rather
intriguing. Who is the happy couple?
Were they on their honeymoon or in
the midst of a clandestine clutch?
Does she or doesn't she? And where
did she get her pink peignoir? Is that
a smoking jacket he's wearing? I get
the sense that both dressed up with
the anticipation of quickly taking it
all off. If this photo was taken today
they would be dressed in sweats and
tees while looking at their phones.
Let's go back to 1962 for some fun.
This book cover grabbed my attention.
Apparently Esther Friesner, it's author
is if nothing else prolific. This Vassar
graduate has written over two hundred
books. Whether I'd never heard of Ms.
Friesner or her tomes doesn't matter.
What does matter is that this prolific
writer obviously earns a decent living
writing fiction. So why am I wasting
my time trying to write this blog when
I could be cashing in by creating some
"mirthfully mystical" missives?!
Meet majykal Esther here.
I adore album covers from the past.
They provide audible insights into
historical entertainment interests.
Apparently some folks liked to yodel
or vicariously listen to others doing
so via "high fidelity". Given the duo
pictured appear amply able to give
Heidi a run for her money I wanted
to hear their cat calls for myself. And
so, post some googling I discovered
this link to Rudi and Inge Meixner 's
album. Wonder if it went platinum?
You won't believe what you hear...
Our political process can be equally
entertaining. As the candidates line
up for consideration in the upcoming
election one can't help but be amazed
at what comes out of their mouths.
However in the past stranger things
have happened. Whoever coined the
phrase "You can't lick our Dick" for
Richard Nixon's re-election campaign
must have been an idiot or genius.
Remember that America voted Dick
back in office. If that alone doesn't
scare you - See Dick run here.
Naivety aside, one can't help but
look at this advertisement and
wonder how anybody took it
seriously. Does anybody look
good in a mustard colored shirt?
What grown man would be brave
enough to utter "Boy how keen"
to another gentleman holding a
lethal weapon? This poignant
plug is proof that most people
will do anything for some cash.
Now... if you want a real laugh,
watch The Golden Blade here..
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
DOWN and OUT in LEWISTOWN
When did you last go downtown?
Every town has it's heart - nucleus -
epicenter. Yet sadly our community
g-spot is often forgotten. Some think
it's much easier to hop into the car,
drive to the outskirts, and park on a
macadam expanse. Our compulsion
with easy in/out has led to the decay
of conventional downtowns across
America. When did getting together
in a place that we're proud of become
passe'? Have we all lost our sense of
community camaraderie?
Post the second World War most
Americans fled their urban centers.
Rather than live above the shop
they moved on to a dream home
in the suburbs. Said exodus slowly
destroyed the delicate balance of
commerce, entertainment, and life
that made most downtowns tick.
In a community like Lewistown
Montana - our downtown slowly
dwindled away until phenomena
like big box stores and the internet
virtually decimated it.
However many communities are
seeing a revival of their formerly
flailing urban centers. Kids who
grew up in the suburbs now know
the pleasures and conveniences
that close proximity provide. We
empty nesters are returning to the
fold to escape the isolation and
responsibilities of suburban life.
And suddenly... many downtowns
are alive and kicking! So why isn't
our city core experiencing rebirth?
The problem is... YOU and WE.
Tonight there's a new world waiting
for you on Main Street and Second
Avenue. Starting at 4:30 p.m. Don's
Store parking lot transforms into a
Farmer's Market. Given our growing
season is brief it's best to grab the
freshest local produce in town while
you can. Plus handicrafts, preserves,
and other goodies. Brooks Market
will stay open for the dinner hour
so you can also grab a sandwich,
salad, or homemade soup! Or you
can dine at The Bistro!
Did you know that every Wednesday
evening many downtown merchants
are now open late? After squeezing
your melons you can shop till you
drop at Don's, Country Junction, The
Connection and whoever else opts to
keep the lights on. At seven p.m. -
the Brook's Market lot transforms
into the ultimate jam session. Local
musicians from all over move and
groove. And trust me, the result is
more than worth getting out of your
recliner for! So why stay home?!
If you snooze - you lose. The best way
to "save" our downtown is to actually
use and enjoy it. Rather than stare at the
boob tube - hang with your peeps and
listen to some tunes. It costs nothing
to sit, listen or dance. And given our
summers are brief we must make hay
while the sun shines! More important -
being there shows your commitment
to our downtown's success. So, what
are you doing alone in your room?
Reading roue'? Come hear the music
play... Life is a cabaret old chum...
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
DON'T SPRAY IT - SAY IT!
Self help
Most of you know that I'm really not
a health nut. However my personal
commitment to ingesting organically
grown foods only grows stronger
with age. Many are crossing over
not only because said approach is
good for you. It tastes better! Yet
living in an agrarian area makes
one realize just how prevalent the
use of chemicals are in American
farming and hence - how important
it is to watch what you eat. Or.. else
cleaning your plate might kill you!
The other day I popped into a shop
to grab some goodies. Upon arrival
it was obvious that I'd walked into
a rather intense discussion between
the proprietress and her customer.
Post his departure she explained that
their dialogue was not about what
she was selling. Rather is was about
spraying pesticides on a plot of his
land that she wants to lease and farm.
When she told him that if he sprayed -
she would stray - he seemed baffled.
After all, what's wrong with poison?
To elaborate. Said lady and her hubby
are organic farmers. Passionate about
preserving our earth's resources they
try to do what's best for all concerned.
The gentleman in question wants to
eliminate invasive weeds on an empty
plot so that his adjacent lawn will stay
pristine. His solution is to douse it with
Roundup - a popular poison out here in
these parts. Obviously while that's the
easiest way to weed, it's not the best
for all of the rest of us, including him!
The problem is he doesn't think so...
My organically committed compadre
explained that Roundup poisons not
just weeds but people. She talked of
protecting future generations through
the proper use and protection of our
earth's assets. His response? "As long
as it makes my life better now, I don't
care what happens when I'm gone."
Hmm... and we wonder why we're in
trouble. The fact is while the people
who are eating are now starting to get
smarter those who grow what we eat
seem to think there isn't any problem.
The more I learn about our food supply
the heightened my sense of concern.
Many locals belittle those worried
about what's going down at the farm.
Between pesticides, chemicals, added
hormones, and genetically modified
organisms (GMO), it's more than scary.
Agriculture has become big business
and hence it's all about maximizing
yields at all costs. What worries me is
that something is very wrong. Yet few
are willing to admit it. Sadly fewer
are trying to do something about it.
My youngest "M" had a little boy just
over two months ago. Quickly "H"
developed an adverse reaction to her
milk. After giving up gluten and dairy
suddenly he was perfectly fine. So my
question is why?! "M" eats in a very
healthy manner - including organically
grown foodstuffs. However something
was bothering her and the baby. And
it's so invasive that the only way to
deal with it was to do without. Did
our mothers have the same problem?
Or do we live in a different world?
Our friend Mr. "V" recently attended
a meeting where GMO (genetically
modified organisms) were discussed.
The lecturer was a fourth generation
Minnesota farmer who is as worried
as we are. So, he tried an experiment
using soil from his farm. In one tub
he planted traditional seeds, in the
other genetically modified seeds.
Post the growing season - there was
no doubt that the GMO plants were
bigger and better. But how did that
growth spurt happen and why?
He decided to dig deeper and discovered
something quite disturbing. Earth worms
living in the old fashioned seed tub were
long, plump, and healthy. Yet under the
GMO surface lurked a colony of oddly
deformed, stunted, and hence somewhat
scary looking worms. Hmm... they say
you are what you eat. Thus whatever
happened to them... could happen to us.
The problem is we really don't know
where, when, or how food is grown.
Nor if what we think is good for us is
actually more than bad for our health.
I'm no Euell Gibbons. Nor am I some
PETA person fighting for the rights of
force fed geese. I am a human being
who wants to live a long and healthy
life. More important, I want my kids
and their kids to live even longer! If
we don't each assume some moral
responsibility - if we all simply defer
culpability to future generations - then
what will become of us? Isn't it time
we put our money where our mouths
are and ate responsibly? I don't know
about you but it's eating at me...
Monday, August 3, 2015
HELLO POT!
Recently someone dear to me accused
me of being myopic in my perspective
on this blog. Given most of us like to
hear ourselves talk - the big difference
between you and me is that my rants
are written rather than spoken. While
my repartee may seem quite one-sided,
in reality it's absolutely not. Many of
my readers respond, react, and at times
rebel post reading the day's missive.
Whether that's via e-mail, Facebook,
Linkedin, or Google - I hear them loud
and clear. And usually... listen...
One of my dearest buddies "K" has a
favorite expression - "HELLO POT!"
Obviously a derivative of the adage
about pots, kettles and accusations
related to tonality - it's really a bitch
slap back to reality. You see, even the
most humble of souls can at times be
delusional. If for no other reason one
maintains relationships for the benefit
of contextual commentary. In other
words - if you're my friend - please
tell it like it is. Feel free to take the
occasional pot shot. Turn up the heat!
I love living in rural Montana versus
urbane Manhattan. That's because a
town like Lewistown puts everything
in context. In New York one can get
rather delusional if they never stray
west of Broadway, above 96th street,
below 42nd, or cross the East River.
Not everyone is bored with Bergdorf's
windows nor have they ever even seen
them. Few think brunch at The Mark is
mundane and most prefer not to nibble
foie gras. It's a real world out there
filled with real people. Imagine that!
Am I stirring the pot? Of course I am.
At some point one has to face facts a
la the Madwoman of Chaillot. Almost
everybody is at some point taken off
guard and hence has to dabble in parts
previously unknown. For most what
in theory is beyond belief ultimately
reshapes our beliefs. And makes us
better post conflict. That's what living
in a real, unaffected, unpretentious
place like tiny Lewistown, Montana
offers. Here I've finally found my pot
of gold at the end of life's rainbow!
Underneath I'm just a homebody.
I've never liked parties, clubs, or
standing at a bar doing shots. In
fact, I really don't like crowds
and prefer intimacy versus group
activities. Those who know me
well know that I'm actually down
to earth. Hence when entertaining
my preference is to serve you a
pot-au-feu or chicken pot pie. At
this point I've got nothing to prove
therefore why not set life's table
with food everyone actually loves?
Given my liberal consumption of wine,
cream, and butter, there are more than
obvious reasons why I've literally gone
to pot. How did I get this bump that
now lies before me? Somehow I've
become the type of man I historically
loathed - a fat, opinionated, over the
top queen in a loud sport coat. With
a shelf always available to catch all
wayward scraps and spills said mass
is constantly adorned with stains. For
many reasons I'm rather a mess most
of the time and yet... beyond happy.
By now you probably assume that
I must smoke pot while writing this
blog. However let me assure you
that between Manhattans, Cote de
Rhone, and Cognac, I'm more than
self medicated. Hence I've no need
for weed. Unlike former President
Clinton, I've never puffed the stuff.
Life itself is more than intoxicating
for me - how about you? Whatever
floats your boat - DO IT. However
you get a thrill, reach out and grab
it. And whoever keeps you in line...
THANK THEM PROFUSELY!
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