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[2muchfor2long]

A vision quest is a native American ritual. A spiritual journey into the wilderness to find your spirit animal. It was a sacred right of passage, I think. I don’t really know all that much about it. But I believe in the value of getting away from the metal and concrete, the electric wires, the cell phone towers, the overwhelming, overpowering crush of humanity crammed into the city. All the wires and exhaust fumes electrical emissions interfere with our ability to find reason. All of the money and science put into transportation and communication and we can’t find each other or ourselves. If we do manage to stumble into someone we want to see we have nothing of value to say.

Last night I went to the hardware superstore to buy some modern electrical contraption, plastic, disposable, and filled with all sorts of little soldered circuits and bad karma. I decided to walk across the street to the grocery supermarket. It was a death race, me against the world. Cars zipped everywhere, unconcerned with the pedestrians, barely aware of other cars. It was madness. Angry horns honking, warning, “get out of my way.”

Mechanical madness, it was easy to believe the cars were in control, people were only a byproduct of the iron age, we stopped using the machines and started serving them. And the people were everywhere. The store was packed, shopping carts careening down crowded aisles, it has become impossible to escape wheeled monsters bent on collision.

In the short time I was in the store, just long enough to buy a bottle of bourbon, strictly for medicinal purposes, three cars had decided to settle their differences the old-fashioned way. They ran into each other, shattered plastic, glass and all sorts of fluids spilled all over the intersection. There were fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, lights flashing, chasing away the gloom of the evening. A light rain had begun to fall. The wet pavement reflected everything. Light echoed off everything. It looked sinister and supernatural.

Trekking back toward my car I fell in line between a young woman pushing a shopping cart. In the cart were two small children, a third walked beside the cart holding onto the cage. Walking the other way was a man and woman pushing a shopping cart with a baby strapped into a car seat which was hooked into the seat part of the cart. The baby was crying, loud, a high-pitched sustained wailing, unchanging, constant. They were going into one of the loudest places I had ever been with a noisemaker. I shuddered just thinking about it.

The lady in front of me turned and looked at the couple walking past and saw me.

“Somebody isn’t happy.” She said, smiling.

“No, somebody isn’t.” I replied, thinking ‘everybody isn’t happy.’ But, I didn’t want to show my despair.

After making my way around the accident I fell into traffic and got behind a Mercury Montego. There must have been a short in the electrical system. Every time they pressed on the brake pedal the bright red brake lights would flash several times before lighting solid. It grated on my senses, it burned into my eyes, seared onto the surface of my brain. Flash. Flash, Blink. Since it was rainy and rush-hour they tapped the brakes a lot. I thought about crashing into the back of their car to help fix the problem. But, I love my car, a Toyota Tacoma, and it seemed a little excessive.

Eventually a car pulled in between us and I thought I had it made. Since my car is a pickup I sit up a little higher and I could still see the flashing lights through the windshield of the car between us. Now, it was further compounded by the windshield wipers. It was Morse Code from the abyss, “Don’t worry, take your time, we will wait here for you.” Lights, noise, insanity, all artificial, all manmade, all grating and terrible.

 Last time we made a weekend escape we participated in an “Owl Prowl.” After dark we walked down a dark road with the naturalist. She used a smart phone to call owls. Silence is important. The chill of night teased our ears and tweaked our noses. Out of nowhere an owl answered the call, it was amazing. She called and he answered several times. In the distance a coyote called in the distance to our right and was answered by one somewhere behind us. We were aliens in their world and the sounds were beautiful.

It might be time for another weekend away. Hiking trails, fire pits, steaks sizzling over a charcoal grill. Maybe a bottle of wine and the kindness and gentleness of my wife’s smile. It is where I can recharge, refurbish, renew.  Albert Einstein said, “Look deep into nature and you will understand everything better.” I need a few minutes to look into nature.

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Shameful Secrets: Papa Don't Touch: I grew up in  California. I lived there until 1983. Carpenters and mechanics run on my side of the family. As I grew up my father added a p...

[2muchfor2long]

"The activity of interpreting might be understood as listening for the song beneath the words."
Ronald Heifetz


When my knee got so bad it made my wife sick I went to the doctor. It's odd how many of my injuries have had the same opening act. Physical therapy twice a week for twelve weeks and I was walking without a limp. Certainly no dancing fool, but mobile and mostly pain free. Motion was key. Doctors, therapists, nurses, and personal experience all pointed to the same spot on the wheel. I was a believer. You don't need to beat me over the head with a crutch.
I left with a list of exercises that had delayed my inevitable knee replacement surgery. If they worked so well in the short term they might work forever. Or at least until I join the great chorus line in the sky. Everyone can dance in Heaven.
Now, every time I go to the gym I do those exercises. An acolyte worshipping at the alter of movement, and strengthening the supporting muscles. Everybody has to pull their weight. Hips, thighs, hamstrings, calves, everybody all have to pitch in.
Several of the exercises are performed laying on a mat. At therapy it was a table with a padded top. At the gym it is a black vinyl covered mat that lays on the floor, on the gray carpet. Multi tonal patches of salt and pepper that really compliment my hair.
As you get to a certain age getting all the way down to the floor is difficult. Getting back up again is almost impossible. So, I do my exercises and put my foot on a ball and let gravity stretch my knee. It was something they did in therapy. Plus, it gives me a chance to gather my strength and prepare for the long, painful process of standing up.
As I lay there I like to close my eyes and listen to the gym. Let the sounds combine and wash over me. A wave of noise. Uniform, constant, unchanging, complex, and complete madness.

Then I separate them into the component pieces. The careful dissection of sound. Really, there is no difference between the sounds of a gym and the raucous, maddened symphony of the few industrial jobs I've had. A steady drone of treadmills, elliptical machines and stationary bikes, the machinery of aerobics. The clang of dropped weights punctuating the steady grunts, shouted encouragements of the serious lifters. Cable clicking and clunking, a back beat to the music of exercise.
The soft, subtle sound of an oxygen tank being wheeled from one machine to the next. The tap, tap, tap of a cane tip as its owner makes her way around the track.
"Getting old is a fascination thing. The older you get the older you want to get."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Over all the sounds, rising above the fray, are the constant conversations. Bits and pieces of scattered random thoughts. Nothing registers except an occasional word. Sentences form from the colliding words of dozens of conversations. Nonsense, with a divine message. Everybody says the same things. Different plots, different themes, the same message.
Mostly I am grateful to be there, with so many different levels of "athletes." Those that are trying to build muscles, big, veiny, bulging. And those who are just trying, like me.


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On my morning commute, yesterday, things went bad. It started at what is called, locally, the Fifth Avenue curve. A gentle sweeping arc that sends you from a warming southern drive seeming soft and kind casual and kind to a more western orientation looking at the tall buildings of business gone mad. Things get serious. You can almost hear the crackle and pop of an interspace communication. “Red Leader, assume attack formation.” Everything seems to start on the curve. 

Yesterday, after passing 5th Avenue things slowed down. Slowed to a crawl. A crawl broken by stretches of a complete stop. Eventually, I made it past Leonard Avenue, the first exit west of 5th Avenue. A police car came screaming up the east bound freeway, crossed on the overpass and went accelerating down the westbound lanes. I could hear the roar of the engine over my music,  Summer in the City by the Lovin’ Spoonful. Which is one of my favorites, so it was kind of loud. I knew it was bad, then.

And it was. There was a horrible accident, multiple cars, multiple injuries. I didn’t know how bad it was, but it was obviously so bad my first thought was a silent prayer. Not the usual disgust for people who have to drive carelessly and wreck, ruining my commute. In fact it was so bad they closed the freeway, and I was forced to exit and wind my way through the downtown streets crowded with frustrated, detoured commuters.

The sun came up. It was weak, hidden with dark clouds. There was no rain in the forecast and none in the clouds. But, they were dark, ominous, heavy with something. Anger, sadness? Maybe they wanted to shed a few tears for the poor souls. Nothing more painful than impotent sorrow. It was a very uncomfortable morning. And, I have never been so glad when morning ended and the skies finally gave a little break. I know, occasionally, I see things for more than they are, and I am sure this was one of those times. It doesn’t take much imagination to make the connection, though.

I looked online and it doesn’t seem as if anybody was killed. But, once the traffic is cleared it doesn’t seem to be news anymore. Though, I imagine those involved would feel differently. 

This morning, though, I am comfortable, alone, with a cup of coffee, an iPad and my thoughts. I am mapping out the Nancy/Tim Casino Extravaganza. We are stopping at Jungle Jims, in Fairfield, the Party Barn in Louisville and a used bookstore in Dayton.  We may have to stop at Jungle Jims and the book store both ways.

I love used books. For one thing they are cheaper. More important, though, it is sharing a treasure with someone, somebody you don’t even know. In a way you have both lived somebody else’s life. Enter stage left, a new character, three people. Maybe several people owned and read the book.  It is a whole village, really. All sharing a story. I know people who only like new books, hard cover, fresh from the factory books. I like books with character, lived in books, loved books, hated books, books that have been around the block. Like me.

I have two books I have been looking for. It is a quest. I could buy them off Amazon, or Barnes and Noble but where is the thrill in that? They have become my grail. I am almost afraid I will find them. What then? There is always another foolish adventure, another pointless chase through aisles filled with the forgotten relics of modern life. It might be a book, it could be a Bluetooth keyboard for an iPhone, possibly a coffee cup with a particular companies logo. But, it is out there and I will find it, or at least look for it. 

So, next week we are off to spend a couple of days in a casino. Not really in the casino, but in a room in the same building as the casino. We will go hiking through a state park. And, hike through the casino as well. We might even drop some coin on a game or two. Why not? And we will hike through the grocery store, and the used book store. You have to stay active, right? We love to hike. 

And, I will hope the people in the awful wreck yesterday are ok. But, I probably won’t know. And I guess I can live with that, too.

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We decided, my wife and I, to take a little trip, blow off a little steam, let our hair down, indulge in a little spring break leisure. Maybe we are just preparing for our impending retirement. Anyway, we looked around and Louisville is always fun. Louisville is always fun, there are things to do, things to see. Plus, Louisville is only about three hours from Columbus, a real benefit. But, we have been to Louisville several times, and we are on a mission to try new things. So, we went looking. About 12 miles from Louisville is the Horseshoe Inn and Casino. Where, in the words of The Grateful Dead (from Ramble On Rose) we will “be sitting plush with a royal flush, aces back to back.”

We have started a list of places we are going to visit. Stops on the Life Explained World Tour. It is a list of destinations, goals to be achieved before we die. We may have to live forever. Or stay off the internet. Las Vegas is one of them. Maybe this is training. We are not gamblers. We won twelve dollars on a slot machine in South Dakota and four dollars from a slot machine in Michigan, and we were rolling in the dough. But, the room was cheap, and we got a fifty dollar food credit. And the food looks amazing. The way I see it we already won. Vegas here we come.

Plus, I have a new fascination with making videos. A fascination, but not much talent. If you hate my writing wait until you see my videos. One inescapable truth; it takes a lot of time to make a video. So, the first thing I did this morning, after emailing the owner of the company asking her for the days off,1 was start making the introduction. It turned out pretty well. Unfortunately, it is not this video.

Which is just something I cobbled together last night. Sort of an adhoc preview of the real video. So enjoy this and know it only gets better. Maybe.

Plus, there will be a scintillating account of our trip.  Including obsessive description of our stops at Drake’s and The Party Barn in Louisville. You don’t want to miss that. It will be here, or on my new WordPress site (or both).With the shuttering of Google + I began to worry about Blogger so I branched out. Though, I’m not sure it is much ado about nothing, but if you know me, you know I like finding problems that don’t really exist. It makes it easier to ignore real problems. 

Anyway, we may win enough to retire in style. Or we may just have a great time. Either way we are winners. Winning isn’t hard, if you know how to keep score. See you soon, we may stop in a city by you.  Let me know where that is, we are always looking for an excuse to get away.

1 She said it was ok.

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Nobody ever accused me of being excessively bright or technologically competent. I have never figured out how to add a video and an internet link to a Facebook post. I will have to ask Mark Zuckerberg next time I am at his house for dinner. Nobody ever accused me of being too tightly tethered to reality either.

I wanted to add the video of last month's winner in the Let it Snow Jukebox and the link to this month's Head Above Water with more of the foolishness the wonderful members of the Head Above Water Nation have come to love.

So, here is the video announcing last month's winner. 

A song that, as far as I can tell, doesn't even mention snow. But, it has a lot of wind, rain, fog, and thunder. And it is a rockin' little number, too.

And here is this month's HAW (or #HAW, which has a nice ring to it, don't you think?).

The Wild Word, magic in the days of science.

Dylan makes his first appearance. It is from "Under the Red Sky" and I know there are people who say that anything after "Blood on the Tracks" is not really worth the time. But, I don't agree. In fact, I think "Time Out of Mind" and "Love and Theft" are two of the best albums ever made by anybody. If you can listen to "Standing in the Doorway" without feeling pain you haven't really lived, or at least lost.  But, that is not what I wanted to tell you.

What I wanted to tell you is; Tomorrow I am going to write a post about my wife. Who is not crazy about being constantly referred to as "my wife." She does, however, like it much better than being called "the wife." Though, I don't think, in all my rambling I ever used the term.

Not "the mountain" but "a mountain."

Anyway, my wife, who is a determined person, has picked a Fire Lookout Post in Montana for our next vacation. It is at the top of mountain. There is no running water, no electricity and you have to park a mile away. So, we are going to have carry three days worth of food and water up the side of mountain. And she is so excited. She hates using a treadmill, but now, she drags me over the treadmills, and raises the elevation and "climbs the mountain." You can see the smile on her face. And it makes me laugh.

But, more on that tomorrow, if "the wife" doesn't deep six the idea.

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Tonight is the Academy Award show. We can barely control our excitement. We, here at Life Explained, have started a pool, not the kind you swim in, of course. A device to make gambling easier and seem more legitimate. Let’s face it, saying I put twenty dollars on A Star is Born to win best picture would sound like a desperate cry for help. Not as bad as saying I put $100.00 on Mary Queen of Scots to win the Oscar for Makeup and Hair Styling. That would sound as if you had a real problem. And, too much free time. And too much money.

But, if you have a “pool” everything is just for fun. Just a good time. Just entertainment, that’s all. Things can get heated, though. We had to break up a fist fight in the laboratory.

“No way Vincente Minnelli deserved the Directing Oscar for Gigi in 1959. Any idiot with a bag of popcorn and a television can tell you it Mark Robson and The Inn of the Sixth Happiness owned the award that year.” Said Bob, from Applied Chemistry.

“What are you, a moron?” Asked Felix, from Physics and Composites. “Stanley Kramer and his stark vision of modern society The Defiant Ones was clearly the obvious choice.”

That was all it took. Soon they were rolling on the floor. Somehow they missed all the jagged shards of broken beakers threatening to leave them sliced and bloody. But, security came, picked them up, dusted them off and told them Richard Brooks and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof was the only choice. Bruised feelings and sprained joints for everyone.

In what turned out to be a real wet blanket none of us had seen any of the movies that have been nominated for any of the awards. We are, it seems, uncultured slobs with the taste of philistines. In fact, unless Bugs Bunny is nominated for best actor, or Transformers is up for best picture we are all going to lose. So, we rented Alien bought some pizza and are having our own Academy Award party. Feel free to nominate your choice by leaving a comment at Life Explained, the Facebook Page.

Thank you,

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We have to confess, we stole the joke at the end from some of the funniest people ever. The geniuses  National Lampoon. Moreover, we could never shoot that dog, he is the foreman on the Reactor Crew, here at Life Explained.   You can vote here.  

https://thewildword.com/caress-of-snow/

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Last night we had the annual new year freak-o-rama The State of the Union address. Shortened for Americans to SOTU, because we don't have enough time to say all four words. It is the time of year when the pres gets to tell everybody what a bang up job he has been doing. The state of the union is never stronger than it is for the hour (give or take) the president spends talking about the strength of the union.

What will it take to get you into this presidency?

I don't watch it, never have. In the words of Bob Dylan "you don't need a weather man to know which way the wind blows." Besides, it is always a little bit reminiscent of a cartoon used car pitch.

"This administration is perfect for you, low mileage, sporty, responsive, with enough style to get you from point A to point B faster and more comfortably than any other car in history. Man, how would you like to get to point B? No place finer, and no better way to get there."

"I don't know, there seems to be a lot of scratches, dents and rust from multiple ongoing federal investigations and numerous indictments and convictions." The nation says, skeptical, and wary.

"That's only character from weathering so many witch hunts." Our intrepid executive salesperson replies.

He shoots, he scores.

I normally catch the highlights. And today it was almost impossible to tell if Trump was invoking the royal "We" when discussing the accomplishments of his presidency. "I did this, you can thank me." Or, if he was trying to say, "me and these other guys did this, you can thank me." He does like to take credit for things. So, thank you, president tweeter.

Rational Alternatives

So, I watched a movie. "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." It was far more informative, a lot more entertaining and about the same length.

The campaign is heating up, though. Candidates are massing at the frontier. Every new message brings ill news. We can only live in fear of what next January will bring.

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Seems last night there was a football game of some importance. I wish they would do a better job of promoting these things. No, not really. For the last two weeks all I have heard about was the Super Bowl, the Puppy Bowl, the Kitty Bowl, Super Bowl commercials, the half time show, the match-up between the wily, grizzled head coach and the young genius head coach on the opposite side. A geriatric quarterback facing a pimply faced, wet behind the ears newcomer. On Face the Nation, after hearing Trump crow his accomplishments for what seemed like days (by the way the NFL thanked him) they went to an experienced team of sports analysts who dissected every possible "match-up." "Breaking down" potential outcomes, "the game within the game." Until I began to hate both teams, and football, and CBS. Though out the last few weeks people have been discussing commercials. Even on the local news they talk about impending advertisements.  Super Bowl commercials are big business, friend. Make no mistake. For the price of renting enough time on television to sell beer, or chips, or cars, we could have made real progress on homelessness. But, that doesn't sell snack crackers does it? Look, I like beer as much as the next guy, I suppose that hinges on who the next guy is, but I may never drink Budweiser again. I can't help but think it would be a lot less expensive if they didn't spend so much money trying to convince people to drink more beer. Really, that's all they need to say, "Drink more beer." Right to the point, no horses, no celebrities, no wasteful expensive ads. Maybe, if they want to do a public service thing they could try "Don't Drink and Drive, just Drink." or, for Valentines Day "Feeling Lonely, That's OK, Have A Bud. The Beer That Likes You." I have a big ad campaign planned for Thanksgiving, but don't want to ruin the surprise...  Sorry, I was talking about football. So, the game was last night, and one team won, not to put too fine a point on it, they pulled it out by taking advantage of the other teams inability to score as many points as the winning team did. It was close, though, either team could have won, it just came down to who scored the most points.  See you next season. Don't forget to drink beer.

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In keeping with my efforts to break out of my slump I have decided Life Explained needs a theme song. I thought it might be a good idea to write and perform the song myself. But, I can't play any instruments, read music, or carry a tune in a wheel barrow. And I certainly don't understand the complicated relationship existing between different parts sounds that make a pleasant melody. I guess I don't know music, but I know what I like. Of course, this leaves me at a serious disadvantage when it comes to writing and performing a theme song. Fortunately I have an iPhone, and Garage Band is free.Unfortunately making music in an app may be more complicated than learning to play an instrument. I had a nice beat, really easy to listen to and follow. When I went to add some guitar it kind of fell apart. The whole understanding music problem climbed out of its shallow grave and haunted my musical dreams once more. I thought about hiring a band, explaining what I wanted and turning them loose. But, I'm not really sure what I want, and even if I did I lack the ability to communicate those desires in a coherent paragraph. And, my budget is zero, or slightly less. Which left me with one option. Choosing a song by somebody else. It would have to be groovy. It would have to speak in a language that calls all that is good, rejects pessimism, embraces the mathematics of life and love. It has to be a song that represents everything I have tried to accomplish with this little blog. It would have to be instrumental, music that speaks beyond the ability of words to express an idea. Mostly, though, it would have to be groovy. And I think I found it;

Booker T and the MGs, playing Green Onions. Even my new pen loves it.

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We, here at Life Explained, have been in a rut lately. It might be the polar vortex, the low pressure (or high pressure) really bends perception, or increases acuity. Plus, the cold slows blood flow, hearts labor under the increased load, trying to keep all the extremities warm and safe, And the shorter days twists all of our internal clocks into odd shapes and days seem to play on endless loops. Wake, work, eat, sleep. Over and over, trapped inside, no hope of escape. Recently, we found the camera we use on the kayak. A cheap GoPro imitator, but it is sturdy and comes in a waterproof case. Moreover, it had the real world benefit of being cheap. Plus, it was on a clearance site so it was even cheaper. We don't get too extreme about anything, so it seemed like a good idea. And, it has been, kind of, on and off, in a way. For one thing, we never do very much that requires an "action camera." We could probably get by with a "relaxed camera." Which doesn't make for thrilling video to begin with. And, since we are more relaxed in our pursuit of activity sometimes I can't find the camera. Then, when you aren't looking for it there it is.  Maybe it knows when you are in need of a little reminder of what warmth looks like. Or maybe I was just looking for something else and stumbled onto it. Either way, I was happy to see the little movies of kayaking. The promise of things to come. Of course, it is not an expensive camera and it the movies are saved as AVI. This causes problems since I use an iPhone and it is not compatible, at all. You would think converting them to another format would be easy, and it might be, but it is consuming my life. I've tried different apps on my phone, the internet, so far nothing. But, I haven't given up. I have, lately, become obsessed with making videos. Below is my latest to announce the winner of last month's Holiday's Edition of Tim's Jukebox. It isn't much, but it is a big improvement on the previous attempts. Practice makes tolerable, right?

If you like it and want to see another one go vote, after you read my column.here. Even if you don't want to see video this month's songs will cheer you up. To further improve my outlook my wife gave me a new pen/capacitive touch screen stylus. Just looking at it makes me happy. So, in the words of the Grateful Dead, "nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile." Kind of like my new pen.

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The midterm elections are over and both sides are claiming victory. Maybe both of them won. It is so hard to say.  We will only see if America won over the course of the next two years. We have a chance for bipartisan cooperation and accomplishment or petty, childish bickering, gridlock and international humiliation as progress grinds to a halt. We are taking bets right now. In Ohio things were heated, accusations made, terrible things were said. Fingers were pointed, and claims of unholy alliances with "Pelosi" or "Trump." I kind of miss the days when our local politicians just made promises that had no intention of, or ability to keep. "I will make the days more pleasant, and reduce anxiety." Things I could really support. But, this is like the preseason. An introductory course, "campaign observation 1A." Now we come to the big boys, and big girls, and big promises, and big accusations, and giant piles of unbelievable crap. The super bowl of American politics, the presidential primaries.

There must be hundreds of democrats lining up for a place on the dais. Anybody who has ever been elected and involved in one of the numerous congressional investigations into almost anything except how our government has so much time to go off investigating things that aren't really all that significant. But, it is a unique opportunity to try out some presidential scowls and grimaces while asking some pointless questions, in a way that makes them seem important. And what else can we really expect out of our president, meaningless gestures, and self important posturing? On the other side of the aisle, as they say in Washington, hardly anybody. Everybody seems a little cowed by the Mighty Oz. Nobody wants to be on the wrong end of that tweeting machine. Though, Mitt Romney seems as if he is willing to take another run at it. He has never been a fan of Trump, and lately has been pointing out what everybody already knows. Trump acts like a child, a spoiled child. Man, I miss Mitt Romney. I would never vote for him, unless he was running against Trump, but Trump has changed the whole political kaleidoscope, everything looks worse. Of course, I think, and this is just speculation, Paul Ryan, P90x fitness machine and now retired congress person is secretly building a campaign platform around the considerable personality trait that he is not Donald Trump. A feature many people find appealing. Plus he can claim that he was not involved in the longest government shutdown in history. And, he looks a lot better with a beard than Ted Cruz. So, we have a choice to make, not much of a choice, but it is the only one we have.

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Suppose you woke up tomorrow, your first cup of coffee steams on the table beside you, the paper sits in your lap.  A perfect morning as you open to the front page. Now, imagine if the first article you see is a huge announcement from mega corporation Coca Cola*. They are going to stop using plastic. No more plastic bottles, no more six pack rings, everything will be biodegradable and made from renewable materials. You would think that was significant, or you might need more coffee.

Now, imagine if they claimed, mega corporation Coca Cola**, they were going to hire an army of janitors to go out and clean up the world. They were going to send people into forests onto beaches, into cities to pick up all the trash. You would think it was fantastic. Or you might worry that you had too much coffee. And it would be fantastic, and there may not be any way to drink too much coffee, so don’t worry about that.

As fantastic as that would be it ain’t gonna happen, not in a million years. Despite the ruling of the Supreme Court corporations are not people. Sure they are huge collections of people, dissimilar people, many of whom have only one common goal. Making Money. Lots of money. And mostly they are not too concerned with the consequences of their actions, unless it affects profits. And committing to renewable resources and hiring people to clean the planet is liable to alter the bottom line in a bad way.

So, it is up to people, working in small groups, or individually, to clean up the planet. A thankless task, with little reward, unless you count a cleaner world as enough incentive.

But, (and here is the good part) the owners of a small, private Yoga shop in Berlin have decided to tackle the hopeless, impossible task of cleaning the world. Sure, they can’t afford to hire an army of mercenary custodians, but they are giving you a chance to earn a reward. All you have to do is pick up some trash and have someone snap a photo of you doing it. Post the photo on Instagram using the hash tag #littlebylittlecleanup and tag @littlebylittlecleanup and you are entered for some great prizes.

Imagine that, you might win something for doing the right thing. Wow. How cool is that? Very cool! As an added bonus I will write a glowing testimonial to your outstanding efforts (suitable for framing), right here on Life Explained. I will make you sound better than you are, even if I have to lie. So, what do you have to lose? Get out there and pick up some plastic and take a picture. You might be the big winner, we might all be the big winner.

*It could be any mega corporation, I just like Coke products so I am throwing a little advertising their way. You can insert your favorite mega corporation. If you are reading this Coca Cola let me know and I will send you my PayPal information.

** Or the mega corporation of your choice.

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Lately I’ve been wrestling with a cold, the cold has been winning. But, it is only a matter of time before I gain the upper hand and vanquish the virus or bacteria, or whatever. Or it will change into something worse, maybe pneumonia or bronchitis, and my doctor will have to intercede on my behalf, and together we will win. Or, it will slowly worsen, changing, worsening in imperceptible ways until it consumes me in feverish exhaustion and sends me to live with my ancestors. They probably aren’t all that keen on having me hanging around whining about a minor illness and are overtly rooting for me to make a full recovery.

But, such is the meat of the cold. It isn’t as if you are sick, not really sick, but not really well either. You can’t spend all day in bed. You have to carry on as best you can. 

Today that means shoveling snow. It is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. It is over two weeks past Christmas so the timing is a little off. And I have a cold so the timing is terrible. But, I am in the middle of a Fit Bit challenge and am getting my almost sick butt kicked up one side and down the other. So, some time shoveling snow might move me from bottom to middle. Ah, the joys of not being last. 

I am currently 4th out of five people, despite making a trip to the grocery store last night. It is impossible for me to go to the store without making a few side trips. I have to check it out. Who knows what kind of progress they have made in groceries since my last visit. Grocery display technique is a fast moving field, and I refuse to be left behind. Even if I am almost sick, or a little sick, or just a whiny little baby, as has been suggested.

Unfortunately I was too preoccupied to really enjoy my trip to the store. It was cold, snowy and slick, and all I could think about was getting my new car home before some careless, malignant bastard smashed into it.. The streets are filled with cars driven by people on their phone, sending texts, maybe answering an emaill, all just seconds away from sliding into the side of my car. “Be careful,” I want to scream, but they wouldn’t hear anyway. They are too busy.

Colds do have one redeeming feature. “Feed a cold.” It may be an old wive’s tale, but it is gospel to me. Of course, I also believe in feeding a fever, or a sprained ankle, or osteoarthritis. So, I may not be the best source for treatment advice. Unless you are looking for an excuse to have pizza rolls for your breakfast appetizer, and then huevos rancheros for breakfast, with a side of tortilla chips covered in chili and cheese. Then I am a great place for all of your food as over the counter medicine advice.

[2muchfor2long]

Nothing is easy. We got a new iPad Pro for Christmas. We don’t really have computers, the iPad is enough. More than enough in many ways. I can do anything I want on my iPad, more than I want, really, sometimes not as much as I should, if you get my drift. I need a keyboard, though, and it it between the Logitech Slim Combo, and the Apple Smart Keyboard. 

I know there are people who hate Apple and I have no quarrel with that. I know there are people who hate Microsoft, and I’m ok with that, too.

In fact, I read a theory that Bill Gates is secretly funding a program (pogrom?) to reduce the population to a more sustainable level. It provided a number, though I don’t remember what it was, and I assume it provided a reason, but I didn’t read the whole thing, just the tag line. It seems a little suspect that a man who made his fortune selling software to the masses is trying to eliminate the largest majority of his market. 

I’m sure there are people who hate Google, and I can live with that. I don’t know much about Google. I do “google” things but mostly I use Safari, or Microsoft Edge. I still call it “googling.” I hope that isn’t violating some copyright law. I did see thee the big Kahuna from Google, I can’t think of his name, facing the Senate version of an inquisition. Which really turned into a partisan free for all and blame fest, which accomplished nothing but made for excellent facebook videos. It is hard for a minor associate of a small company (me) to say how much responsibility is carried on the shoulders of the CEO of Google, but he had to find the whole thing an enormous waste of time. I was impressed with the dignity and restraint he showed during the circus, though.

There are a lot of people who hate Facebook, too. My friend, who has never had a Facebook account, told me that “Facebook is for sheeple.” I’m not sure how he formed this opinion, or what the qualifications for inclusion into sheeplehood are, but I like Facebook. I think I might like it more if it was only a little better, and maybe I just don’t understand how to make it work. Sometimes I see things I don’t want to see, and sometimes I see things that make me smile. I’m just not sure there is enough balance. But, I do remember when the CEO of Facebook had to face a congressional grilling.  I thought he handled it very well. 

It wasn’t that long ago, thinking back, that congress “looked” into performance enhancing drugs being used by Major League Baseball players. Man, they gave them a good what for. Thank God our government is on the job. Think of how bad things could be if they weren’t taking care of all the important stuff. 

Anyway, I think I will go with the Logitech Slim Combo. Mostly because of the backlit keys, and I do somethings the morning or in the evening. Thanks for helping me decide.

[2muchfor2long]

A while ago I wrote a post about how a brave little girl helped me learn to face my fears, some of them, anyway. Honestly, I don’t really want to face all of them, I think fear is a good thing, aerobic, cardio. Smart, brave people jump out of airplanes, ski down the sides of mountains, run from the bulls in Spain, go deep sea diving, and invite catastrophe at every turn. No thanks, but, I faced an orthopedic specialist and six weeks of physical therapy, like a boss!!! There is a lot to learn from the youth of the world.

Yesterday my wife had a cold, it has run rampant through the family. It settles into the sinuses and produces a nasty headache. I decided the best treatment was something spicy. And I hadn’t had enchiladas in a long time, and I love enchiladas. Nobody had any better idea for dinner. We decided our time honored New Years Eve enchiladas was a great idea. A tradition one year in the making.

We needed a few things, so I went to the store. A light rain fell as I drove the short distance to the store. It was warm for December and almost pleasant. I like to park in the far reaches of the lot. Away from everybody else. Less chance of some starving, frantic, crazed shopper with low blood sugar slamming their door into my car. And, I can always use a few steps. Plus, driving through all of the pedestrians milling around, pushing shopping carts filled with heavy bags of groceries, bottles of juice, cases of soda, and canned goods, always reminds me of something from Mad Max, or The Walking Dead. 

These people have just been through Meijer’s and are pushing a barely controllable bartering ram. From the look on their face they would have no remorse about smashing a person against the back of a minivan, leaving a broken, bleeding, expiring body sliding slowly down the lift gate. What do you think happens to all of the windshield wipers hanging limply over the license plate? I can walk in between cars, down center lines, in the words of Micheal Herr in Dispatches, I’m a “moving target survivor subscriber.” You have to keep your eyes open, be aware of your surroundings. And, I need the steps.

To keep you up to date on what’s happening folks, we were having enchiladas for dinner and needed some stuff from the store, it was warm for late December, raining lightly, and I parked at the far end of the parking lot. 

When I finished shopping and came outside it was raining much harder. It didn’t really bother me that much, it is Ohio. I just pulled up my hood, accepted my fate and walked toward my car. About halfway there I heard a child walking with a parent, singing, stomping through the puddles, enjoying life, enjoying the rain, living as large as possible for such a tiny package. And I thought life should be lived that way, all through life, rain is a gift, puddles are made for stomping, and singing in the rain is not just a movie from a forgotten time but good advice. I was happier all the way home. And I found my New Years resolution. Enjoy life more.  I don’t know who the child was, but I owe that little person a thank you.