How Can You Tell Good Poetry from Bad Poetry?

I have to confess that while I love to write, I have never been able to understand  a good deal of poetry much less write any poetry that I thought was very good.  Over dinner the other night, Karen and I were reading from our book of dinner prayers, and we came across a poem that we both thought was awful.  We agreed that in our humble opinions, it was “Bad” poetry.  

It is very difficult to call anything “Bad” poetry.  I have sat through many writing sessions where someone brought in poetry samples, and I thought to myself “Bad” poetry.  When everyone applauded, I of course felt very humbled and guilty.  Perhaps, I am just a barbarian.  A Luddite who really does not understand what good poetry is.  There seem to be what I might call “poetry snubs” who proclaim poetry as the highest art form in literature.  Only morons and the uneducated and unwashed would call anything “Bad” poetry.

However, being the logical person, I think myself to be, it stands to reason that if something can be good than something can be bad.  I decided once again to turn the question over to my favorite muse these days and ask ChatGPT the question:  “How does one tell good poetry from Bad poetry.”  I actually thought that it might reply, “Stupid question John, there is no such thing as “Bad” poetry. Much to my surprise and delight it answered my question with the following replies.  First, here is what ChatGPT said about “ Good” Poetry:

Signs of Good Poetry

  1. Emotional Impact
    • It moves you, surprises you, or makes you feel something new or deeply familiar.
    • It lingers in your mind after reading.
  2. Fresh Language
    • It avoids clichés and uses original images or phrases.
    • Common experiences are made new through metaphor, simile, or unexpected word choices.
  3. Strong Structure or Form
    • Whether free verse or formal (like a sonnet), it has internal rhythm, pacing, and flow.
    • It uses line breaks, stanza shape, or sound devices with purpose, not at random.
  4. Layers of Meaning
    • It offers depth—something you can re-read and interpret in more than one way.
    • There’s often subtext, symbolism, or ambiguity that invites reflection.
  5. Sound and Musicality
    • It reads well aloud: rhythm, alliteration, assonance, and other sonic qualities enhance the meaning.
    • Good poetry doesn’t sound flat or awkward—even free verse has rhythm.
  6. Precision and Economy
    • Every word counts—no filler. Good poets can say more with less.
    • The language is intentional, not just pretty or verbose.

I was very pleased with the above list that I received to my query.  These made a great deal of sense to me.  Not being a total Luddite, there are in fact many poems that I do like.  I then asked ChatGPT to write me a “good” poem about two elderly lovers, one of whom was dying.  Here is the poem that Chat wrote:

“Still, You Hold My Hand”

We do not walk as quickly now,
our steps are slow, but still in tune—
two shadows stretching side by side
beneath the silver hush of moon.

The clock has softened all our lines,
our hair grown thin, our fingers bent,
but what we’ve lost in strength or speed
we’ve found again in time well spent.

You lie here now, your breath a thread,
the light behind your eyes grown dim.
I hold your hand, recall the days
when we would go on every whim.

Do you remember, love, the spring—
the daffodils, the borrowed car?
We chased the sun across the hills
and kissed beneath a falling star.

Your voice was once an angelic bell
that called me in from any spree.
Even now, though faint and frail,
its echo still brings peace to me.

I talk, though I don’t know you hear;
you smile at things I cannot see.
But when our fingers intertwine,
I feel you’re still right here with me.

So rest, my love. I’ll hold your hand
until the last small breath is through.
And if there’s more beyond this veil,
I’ll walk there slowly… back to you.

I made a few changes to the above poem, but otherwise I thought it was very good.  Now, we come to the part about “Bad” poetry.  The following are characteristics are what ChatGPT said were Signs of “Bad” Poetry.

⚠️ Signs of Bad Poetry

  1. Clichés and Predictability
    • Uses worn-out phrases like “my heart is broken,” “the stars above,” “a love like a rose,” etc.
    • You know how it ends after the first few lines.
  2. Flat or Forced Rhyme
    • Rhymes are predictable or awkward, sacrificing meaning for the sake of sound.
    • It reads like a greeting card instead of a crafted work.
  3. Vague or General Language
    • Lacks vivid imagery or specific detail.
    • Talks about feelings without showing them through actions or concrete images.
  4. Lack of Rhythm or Flow
    • Feels choppy or randomly broken up.
    • The poem’s form doesn’t add anything to the message.
  5. Overuse of Adjectives or Adverbs
    • Tries too hard to sound poetic without real substance.
    • “The extremely beautiful shining golden sun rose splendidly” = cluttered.

I asked ChatGPT to give me an example of “Bad” poetry based on the following idea.  A man who would be king.  Can you imagine who I might have had in mind?  Here is the “Bad” poem that Chat wrote.  I think she did a good job of describing “he who shall remain nameless.”

“Absolutely.  Here’s a deliberately bad poem—complete with clunky rhyme, mixed metaphors, awkward phrasing, forced rhythm, and shallow content.  It’s meant to be humorous in how poorly it’s constructed:”

“The Man Who Would Be King (Someday Maybe)”

He woke up late, ate moldy bread,
Put a chicken hat upon his head.
Declared aloud with mighty tone,
“I think I’ll sit upon the throne!”

His suit was blue, his tie was red,
He dreamed of ruling folks in bed.
“I’ll ride a cow into the war!”
(He’d never left for war before.)

The people laughed and called him Blob,
He called himself “King Corn-on-the-Cob.”
He made a sword out of old ham,
And practiced battle on a clam.

“I shall be feared from east to west!”
He yelled while pounding on his chest.
But tripped and fell into a bush—
A squirrel proclaimed, “You royal tush!”

His kingdom vast, inside his head,
With loyal troops (all made of bread).
He ruled his yard, his fans approved,
Until the cat said, “You’re removed.”

Considering the subject matter, I actually liked this “Bad” poem.  I thought it fit “you know who” very well.  So let me finish with Chat’s “Tips to Evaluate a Poem.”  I  hope all you poetry lovers out there have found something useful in my blog this week. 

👂 Tips to Evaluate a Poem

  • Read it aloud – Does it flow? Does the sound match the subject?
  • Ask what it’s really about – Is there a deeper idea or emotion?
  • Notice what’s not said – Good poems leave room for you to think or feel.
  • Try rewriting it – If you can improve it easily, it probably needs work.
  • Test time – Does it still move you after reading it twice, or a week later?

How to Use Product or Service Reviews to Get the Best Deals

Everywhere you look today there are reviews telling you how other people feel about a product or service that they have purchased.  A good friend of mine refuses to read reviews.  She argues that it is a little like going into a restaurant and asking a server “What is good today?”  I see her point to some extent.  What do I care about what others think about something?  How do I know the server likes the same thing that I like?

Growing up on the East Coast, I love seafood and spicy food.  Relocating to the Midwest in later years, I found half the population in states like Minnesota and Wisconsin where there are thousands of lakes and millions of fishermen who say, “I don’t like fish.”  I used to ask them, “why?” I don’t anymore because I already know the answer.  “They taste too fishy, they will say”  I want to reply, “Oh, do you dislike steak when it tastes too steaky?  Or hate potatoes that taste too much like potatoes?”   But it would be useless.  About the same use as challenging someone to eat something spicy when they say it will give them an upset stomach.  Somehow, millions of Americans believe that spicy foods cause upset stomachs.

The opinions that inhabit the brains of other people should lead all of us to be very cautious when reading reviews.  Let me give you two examples of bad or stupid reviews I have read.  Then I will tell you the secret for finding useful information from reviews.  Information that will lead you to be able to make purchases nearly 100 percent of the time that provide the quality and reliability that you are looking for.  You see there is both art and science to reading reviews.  Most people merely rely on one or the other and obtain less than optimal results in their choices.

The following are two reviews I have actually read myself.  The first deals with my searching for a new pair of running shoes.  Most reviews unless noted are based on five stars with five being the highest rating.

“I gave these shoes a two star.  They looked good but they did not come in a wide range of colors.  My wife said though that they make me look like a super runner.”

I am a functionalist when it comes to running shoes.  I have been running for nearly fifty years and used more pairs of running shoes than I can count.  I have bought just about every brand of running shoe ever made.  When I buy a running shoe, I buy it according to the type of running that I will be doing.  Will I be on the street, then I want a shoe with more cushion.  Will I be on wooded trails, then I might buy a more minimalist shoe like a Vibram Five Finger Sole.  Will I be on rocky mountain trails, than I want a shoe with more support and a rock sole plate inside like the Merrill’s that I recently bought.

I do not find a correlation with quality and price when it comes to running shoes.  The only correlation that exists in the running shoe industry is with price and fashion.  Many people who run like to look stylish and wear the latest most popular running shoes.  They will pay two or even three times for a new fashionista shoe than it is really worth.  They are often more interested in the colors available for shoes than the quality of the shoe.  Hence, it is buyer beware if you are looking for shoe ratings.

The next stupid review I want to describe was for a book that I was looking at on Amazon.  I was surprised that someone rated the book with a one star until I read the review.

“I gave the book a one star as soon as I saw the title.  No book with a title like this one could be any good.  The cover was also very dumb looking.” 

The only thing dumb about this book was the moron giving the review.  I do lots of reviews on travels and places that I have visited.  I review tours, hotels, concerts, train rides, restaurants etc.  I would never ever want to tear someone’s place or product down with a review that is incompetent and downright mean.  Yes, I think it is mean spirited to write a one-star review unless you can document or back it up with some facts that support your rating.  Facts and circumstances that would justify a one-star review.  Furthermore, I think it is always imperative that you try to deal with the provider before you leave a nasty review.  Speak to the owner or manufacturer or manager before you leave a review that can hurt their business.

The world of reviews is full of problematic reviews that tell you little or nothing about the product or service.  On the other hand, many low rated reviews can provide a wealth of information that will be useful.  Similarly, many high rated reviews can either give you good data or be a waste of time.  The review by a runner that says “I do not run but I rated the shoes high because they came in a wide range of colors” is not likely to be useful to anyone running twenty or more miles a week on hard rocky terrain.

Lets look at the two elements of a review that you should take into consideration.  The first I will call the “Science.”

Simply, how many reviewers have reviewed the product and what is the mean and distribution of data around the mean.  A product with too few reviews could be biased for a number of reasons.  Friends or even employees might have been talked into writing reviews to make the product look good.  I do not trust reviews based on less than 100 reviews and generally I want to see a review with more than 500 reviews.  I trust a larger sample size more than a smaller sample size.

Next, I look at the distribution of ratings.  It is not enough to know that a product received a 4.5 rating overall since the distribution might be lots of high ratings together with some very low ratings.  The average is not always a good figure to rely on.  As the saying goes, if you have two people in a room and one is starving to death with no food to eat and the other person is enjoying an entire chicken to eat by themselves, than on the average there is ½ a chicken per person in the room.  I want to buy a product with a rating that has less spread than a rating with an equal number of ones and fives.

The second part of finding your great product or service is the “Art” part.  It is the reading of the reviews to discern what people liked and disliked about the product.  No one should be buying a product or service without some idea of what they hope or expect it to do for them.  You want to have some expectations of what you are buying in terms of quality and reliability and sometimes style or fashion.

Reading the bad reviews as well as the good reviews can give you invaluable information on how the product performs and what it is capable of doing.  If there are videos that have been submitted showing the product being sold (These can also often be found on YouTube), I will always watch these videos to get more information about the product.  It might be a great product or even a fantastic product, but it might not be great or fantastic for me.  I think it is imperative to match the product or service to your own needs and wants.

I may reject high ratings as well as low ratings for a variety of reasons.  Often, people have unrealistic expectations about the product.  When it comes to movie reviews such as those on Rotten Tomatoes, good reviews might be useless if the movie does not fit into the genre of films that I like.  I tend to like movies that have more plot and character development.  Movies that are short on car chases and action shootouts and high on interesting dialogue.  My choice of movies does not reflect mainstream attitudes today with the current penchant for horror and action flicks.

The major categories of products and services that I purchase include the following.  I will briefly provide a few caveats concerning each of these areas.  A lot more could be said but a few comments should suffice to give you some thoughts.

  • Books

Books are very trendy and fashionable.  Always read a review to see if the content matches your interests and not because it is the “book of the month.”  Popularity does not necessarily equal a good read.

  • Movies

Rotten Tomatoes has its ratings based on two categories.  Critics and Viewers.  A movie might be high in one and lower in the other, high in both or low in both.  I tend to look for the high in both categories but sometimes I have found a great movie that was low in both categories.  Many very popular current films will be high in both categories, but I do not like very many of the current films out there.  I try to look more into the aspects of the film and plot and characterization that resonate with my film choices.

  • Hotels

This is a very difficult product to judge because a hotel is more than just a room.  It is convenience to other areas, amenities, staff, food, service, clientele, ambience and location.  It is very difficult to find ratings on hotels that are very high, and it is one area where I might concede a correlation between price and quality.  That said there are many bargains out there when you get away from the big chain hotels and find small independent operations.  The one that we stayed in called the Zags Hotel in Portland fell into this later category.  It was relatively inexpensive but one of the most fun hotels we have ever stayed at.

Many people are very critical when it comes to hotels and motels.  Some want walk in showers and feather pillows and others don’t care about the showers or pillows.  You must read between the lines when selecting a hotel or you will be very disappointed.

  • Restaurants

Ratings on restaurants are also very problematic.  I blame restaurants for this to some extent since they often create their own problems.  Even the best restaurants in the country have days when everything is just off.   Service is bad, food not up to standards and ambiance bad.  One common review I have read goes as follows, “Used to be great place to eat, food and service have gone downhill.  Would not come back again.”  This review might be followed by another that reads “Great place to eat, food was excellent, service was beyond expectations.”

Two things that restaurants cannot control are the expectations of diners and the behavior of staff both in the kitchen and out of the kitchen.  Many diners act like they are monarchs and should not have to wait five minutes for any service.  I have read so many bad reviews on restaurants where I have had great meals and service that I can only wonder at what happened to the other diner to cause such negativity.  Having been in the customer service sector myself, I can tell you that there are customers that you could never satisfy in a million years.  Thus, I would take any restaurant reviews with a dose of probability.  What are the odds I will get a good meal and good service tonight?  Like with the weather, it will never be a one hundred percent accurate forecast.

  • Cars

I have never made a bad purchase with a car.   I also put car salespeople on my list of top unreliable people to deal with.  I realize that they are in a very high-pressure business and that this is part of the problem.  They don’t get the sale then little Andrea goes hungry.  This means that they are liable to exaggerate claims on what they are selling.  A worse problem is that due to the myriad complexities of the vehicles they are selling you, they will probably be a let less informed about the vehicle than you would expect.  I have hardly ever been sold a vehicle new or used wherein the claims provided by the salesperson matched later expectations.  Despite this discrepancy, my tendency to research the cars I am going to buy and to spend a great amount of time looking at comparable vehicles has helped me be very satisfied in my choices.  The few discrepancies have been irritating but ultimately very negligible in the overall product choice.  One example is a follows.

In 2018 we were shopping for a car to replace our 2009 Honda Civic that had 235,000 miles on it.  We decided to buy a new Honda Accord as it came stock with the new safety package that Honda had developed.  All the new bells and whistles for braking, cameras, adaptive cruise control and other safety features.  One thing I wanted for sure was the built in GPS system.  The salesperson assured us that GPS was standard on the Accord we were looking at.  We bought the car and two weeks later we still had not figured out how to get GPS on the console.  The salesperson had assured us that all we had to do was download the right software.  Turned out that the car did not support GPS regardless of what software we downloaded.  When you buy a car, it is always “Caveat Emptor.”

  • Merchandise

We purchase a great deal of merchandise on Amazon these days.  It is very convenient to peruse their products and their shipping and return policies are excellent.  Since January of 25, we have placed 129 orders with Amazon.  There is such a range of merchandise that it is very difficult to give hard and fast rules about reviews.

Certainly, the science of reviews as I described should be paid attention to.  The number of reviews along with the distribution of ratings is very important.  As to the art of the review, it is imperative that you have a good idea of what you want and that you research the various product options as thoroughly as you can.  This means that if you are buying clothes, check other online sellers out.  The same goes for furniture, appliances, hardware and pharmaceuticals.

The range of ratings for many items prohibits a simple decision.  For almost every product, you will find many people who love it and many people who hate it.  Know the features and benefits that you are looking for and select the product where people rave about these features.  If style is not important, then you may not care about color choices in running shoes.  On the other hand, if reliability is important than look for reviewers who have used the product for several months or even years.  I have seen too many reviews where a product such as a running shoe worked great for two weeks and then fall apart.

Conclusions:

It is not easy wading through myriad reviews to find anything bordering on absolute “truth” about a product.  I like to say that fifty percent of drugs work fifty percent of the time with fifty percent of the people.  The same might be applied to ratings and product reviews.  Some will love the product and swear that it cures old age, and some will swear that it was garbage and not worth the money.  Who is right is the mystery that you will need to solve.  Using ratings to help decide on a product choice is a great adventure in the swamp land of American consumerism.   Think of it as the last great adventure in life.

Celebrating Easter with a trump Protest Rally

Woke up this Saturday (April 19th) morning and got dressed to head to Casa Grande for a trump protest rally.  It seemed like something worthwhile doing on Holy Saturday.  The rally was to be held at the corner of Florence and Colorado streets.  It was slated to start at 9:30 AM and continue until 11:AM or whenever.  I arrived early at 8:15 AM and was the first one there.  Fortunately, there was a Dunkin Donuts near the same corner.  I went in and ordered an extra-large pistachio iced coffee and my favorite Old-Fashioned Donut.  Coffee and donut came to $7 dollars and about 800 calories.  This would have made Dr. Petra my PA very unhappy.  She said that I needed to cut down on my sugar carbs since my LDL levels were very elevated.

Ate my donut while watching the street outside.  I could finally see that people were coming to the corner.  Many had signs and some had chairs.  People were taking up positions on both sides of the street.  I grabbed my coffee and went out to join the other protesters.  I regret that I did not have a sign, but I had worn my USAF hat and a protest shirt that you can see from the picture below.  I soon met several people that I knew from Karen’s church.  This finding pleasantly surprised me.  I jokingly said that we had a church contingency there from First Presbyterian.

Over the course of the next two hours, the protestors grew almost in pace with the street traffic.  Florence is the main drag in Casa Grande and there are four lanes of traffic going down the street.  Many people waved at us.  Many honked.  We wanted to believe that their honking was a form of approval.  Some threw the finger.  Others gunned their cars and roared by us.  These later two efforts were clearly not signs of approval.  I walked up and down the street talking to other protestors and taking pictures of the signs that many people were carrying.  I have included pictures of these signs below.  They tell the story better than words ever could.

We are going to continue massive protests in this country.  It was heartwarming to see so many other people out there willing to give up a part of their day to signal their distaste for the immoral and unethical individual that now claims to be POTUS.  Some people have asked if we are going to make a difference.  My response is that I do not know.  I think the odds are against us.  However, when you buy a lottery ticket, the odds are also against you.  You do not know whether or not you are going to win.  Only one thing is certain; if you do not buy a ticket you have absolutely NO chance to win.  I am buying a ticket every chance I get to unseat or at least prevent trump from getting away with destroying the country that I was born in and that I fought for.  America is not exceptional to me.  Neither is it the greatest country in the world.  America has always offered me a chance and a promise to try to be better.  I have not always taken her up on this.  As Martin Luther King so famously said,

“In a sense we have come to our Nation’s Capital to cash a check.  When the architects of our great republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir.

This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned.  Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given its colored people a bad check, a check that has come back marked “insufficient funds.”

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.  We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation.  So we have come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and security of justice.”

Those of us who are marching or walking or writing are not coming to make “America Great Again.”  We are coming to help restore the promise of a check to immigrants, minorities, women, disabled, LGBTQ+, Veterans, poor people, lonely people, hungry people, middle class people and even rich people.  We are coming to restore the ideas of the Founders of this country.  To restore their dreams and hopes that they laid out 250 years ago.  To restore an America that all of us believed it could and should be.  To make an America that is always getting better and better.  The dreams of a democracy which prides itself upon uplifting people and not destroying people.  We have had too many battles in this world where no one wins.  We need to foster a belief in WIN-WIN where both sides come out ahead and there are no losers.  We need an America that walks hand in hand with other people across the globe to make “The World Great” and not just America great.

The Orgasm of Life

Life is one big orgasm.  From the day we are born until the day we die, we experience joy, pain, love and suffering.  We go down endless passages to hell and climb endless staircases to heaven.  We have mega highs and minor lows and sometimes the other way around.  We have experiences that we cannot describe and others that we would sooner not.  We lay in bed at the end of a day that was beyond our wildest dreams.  We silently  pray that tomorrow will be the day when at least one of our wishes comes true.  Or we pray that the present one will never end.

Some of us discover ecstatic orgasms.  Earth shaking, mind blowing, out of body experiences that rival anything we ever saw in a movie, but just as transient.  Some of us go through life faking fantastic orgasms.  Some of us never take risks, never open our hearts, never open our minds.  We seek shelter from anything that might excite our senses or become moments of rapture.  We hide behind large oak trees where no one will see us.  We play hide and seek with life from the time we wake up until the time we go to sleep.  Why, oh why the muse in us asks?  But there is no one there to answer our whys.

Mysteries like orgasms assail us at the most inopportune times.  An orgasm has been described as something we think that we can never get enough of.  Endless feelings of bliss fuse our bodies together in a symphony on earth.  However, life does not provide a never-ending chorus.  Like the seasons that come and go and go and come, our  experiences are fleeting.  We wish that we could hold onto them forever, but our efforts always prove that it is  an impossible dream.  There is a satanic spirit  who lurks in the shadows ready to snatch our happiness from us.  God fiddles while we are tormented.

My fantasies of endless orgasms always proves too much for my feeble body.  In truth, it may just be one or two that I want, but that is more than enough.  I need to undergo a superhuman rejuvenation before even that is possible again.  The movies show stars having incredible sex that never stops.  The reality is that most marriages in Hollywood break up before the movie is over.

Our lives are full of blond goddesses and studs with six pack abs who promise orgasms that not even Buddha could not imagine.  The world sells us on the idea of one big orgasmic oyster, just waiting for us to open the shell and swallow.  Alas, we eat the smaller than expected oyster and find that we cannot afford another one.  Have you seen the prices for oysters these days?

Well, tomorrow is another day, and the cycle of life goes on.  We run after joy like rats on a treadmill only to discover that it evaporates as soon as we find it.  There is no endless joy or happiness or pain or suffering on earth.  It is all a mirage.  As Shakespeare said, “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.”   We are nothing but brief candles that flicker for a short time and then go out.  Our hopes for endless orgasms are as delusional as the love that often accompanies them.

Pack up your fantasies my friend and move on.  Perhaps an endless orgasm awaits you just around the next corner.

Are You a Little Weird?

“Are you a little weird?”   “Of course not you would say.”  No one wants to be thought weird.  Not little babies, not adults and certainly not teenagers.  But I don’t think being weird is really such a bad thing.  In fact, I think the world needs more weird people.  If you look at the so called “normal people” in Washington these days, it would be great if we had more weird people.

I want to be weird.  Weird people do strange things and do not try to be like other people.  Weird people are not conformists and dance to their own tunes.  Weird people do not look and dress like other people.  Sometimes, weird people come from other countries.  Weird people eat weird things like lefse, lutefisk, snail salad, Kim Chee,  Hákarl, chicken feet, Hagis and Rocky Mountain Oysters.  Weird people dress strangely as well.  They don’t all wear ripped blue jeans and t-shirts.

If I call you weird, you will probably not take it as a compliment.  Isn’t that sad?  Why are we so afraid of being weird?  Weird people don’t want to fight wars in strange lands.  I never had a fight with a weird person.  Weird people seem to believe in live and let live.  Weird people don’t want to hurt other people or rape the environment.  Isn’t’ that strange?  You never get flyers from weird people saying, “Please send me money, I am running for office.”  Or “send me money now and I will stop sending you spam mail and hacking your credit cards.”

Weird people are probably Un-American.  You never see weird people wearing t-shirts that say, “These Colors Don’t run.”  Or “Send all the Immigrants Back.”  For some reason, weird people are not very patriotic.  They seem to endorse the view that “Patriotism is the Last Refuge of a Scoundrel.”  I spent four years in the military during the Vietnam War and I met very few if any weird people in the military.  I never met any weird Captains or Colonels and certainly not any weird Generals.  It is considered quite normal in warfare to bomb the hell out of anyone you want to save.  Ergo, the phase “Ours is not to question why, ours is but to do and die.”  Weird people might challenge that phrase but then they would be put in front of a firing squad.

I know that when I grew up, parents did not want their kids to be weird.  They wanted them to play sports like other kids.  Go to school like other kids.  Go to college and get a good job like other kids and watch the same TV programs as other kids.  Most normal families want their kids to fit into the American dream.  They want their kids to be rich, famous, successful and have lots of money.  They don’t want their kids to associate with weird people.  “Watch out for that weird guy on the corner!”  “Stay away from those weird girls.”  “Don’t dress so weird or you will not be liked.”  “Why can’t you be like all the other kids.”

“Don’t do anything weird” is the secret to success in America.  Play golf on Saturday, go to church on Sunday (none of those weird religions please like Jehovah Witnesses, Zen Buddhists or Hari Krishnas) stick to churches that praise our war efforts and preach the “Prosperity Gospel.”  Let’s all gather in the Rose Garden and pray for success in our next war.

Weird people are not wanted in America.  Weird people stick out like sore thumbs.  Who wants weird people living on their street or in their gated communities or their RV parks.  Weird people often come in a variety of colors and even genders.  Some weird people say that they are not male or female but are really neutral or transgender or nonbinary or some other weird categories that normal people cannot pronounce.  Weird people often have weird ethnic affiliations that are hard for normal (White) people to understand.  Her mother was from Ethiopia, but her mother’s parents were from Malaysia and Indonesia.  Her father was from Nigeria, but his parents were from Scotland and Nova Scotia.  Hard to send weird people back to where they come from since some of them come from such weird places.

Well, that is all for today folks.  If you spot any weird people, please be tolerant, kind and compassionate towards them.  Whatever you do, please do not call Trump’s “Office of Normal People Only Wanted Here” to report them.  They will be happier if you just ignore them.   By the way, where I live in Arizona, Mexicans and Canadians are actually not considered weird. 

 

Rhythm and Writing:  The Beat of Life

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Allegro:  a brisk lively tempo

What does the beating of my heart have to do with my writing?  What does writing have to do with making love?  Can the changing of the seasons be compared to a concert overture?  What is the relationship between T. S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets 2: East Coker” poem and Stravinsky’s “The Rites of Spring?”  What does musical rhythm have to do with writing?

unnamedOn some primal level, we all live by an unseen law of rhythm.  The rhythm of the universe controls an eternal dance between the atoms and molecules that make up our existence.  This natural rhythm imparts an inexorable symmetry to all of life.  A regulated succession of strong and weak elements of opposite and contrasting conditions that becomes the master of all that we do.  Buddhists call it the Yin and Yang of being.

Springtime is upon us.

The birds celebrate her return with festive song,

and murmuring streams are softly caressed by the breezes.

Thunderstorms, those heralds of Spring, roar, casting their dark mantle over heaven,

Then they die away to silence, and the birds take up their charming songs once more.  — (From Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons:  Spring”, Concerto in E Major) 

DrumsticksIn countless ways, we observe that there is fundamentally no difference between writing or between a piece of choreography and the changing climate.  Creativity is carved out of the passion that is in everything we do.  The body and mind embrace in a never-ending minuet.  The music ebbs and flows.  Our love is gentle, restrained, then wild and feral. Mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights fuse with the seasons of spring, summer, fall and winter.  The harsh gales of November resonate in the refrains of Tchaikovsky and Beethoven.  “Summer Breeze” by Seals and Crofts ushers in the scorching days of July.  Poetry rings out in the rap music of the streets while the mellow voices of choir singers comfort the soul.  All things are one say the mystics.  If my writing is one with all things, will the tempo of my words cool, heat, soothe or disrupt the fashions of life?

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Adagio: a slow and stately tempo

Far be it for me to confuse philosophy with art.  Greater men than I have acknowledged that there is a unity to life.  We travel down our different paths often blind to the journeys of others who walk side by side with us. This one a carpenter, this one a computer scientist, this one a teacher, this one an artist and this one a hero.  Some of us have a long journey and some of us have a short journey.  For some the journey is rough and chaotic and for others the journey is smooth and predictable.  There are slow times in our journeys and there are fast times.  The rhythm of life is never the same for any of us.

Oh, it’s the same as the emotion that I get from you

You got the kind of lovin’ that can be so smooth, yeah

Give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it — (From “Smooth”, by Santana)

For some, life is poverty and for others it is uncountable wealth.  The rich man longs for the anonymity and slower days of the poor man.  The poor man can be heard singing, “If I were a rich man, lord who made the lion and the lamb, would it really spoil your cosmic plan if I were a wealthy man?”

9781780231075We are all dust in the wind but our rhythms echo through the halls of time.  The most unforgettable and amazing repetitions will continue as long as humans walk the earth.  Coded in the numerous ways we have of capturing the rhythm of our lives.  Some code in music, some in text and some in clay. Some codes are dynamic, some peaceful, some violent and some sad.  We write our lyrics, pen our verses, create our stanzas, and design our choreography.  All efforts guided by the unseen law of rhythm.  Now we are hard, now we are brittle.  Now we roar and now we snore.

Scherzo:  a sprightly humorous movement commonly in quick triple time

Love is kind, love is considerate, love is not selfish. The waltz was a creation of times when love was more restrained.  Centuries of constrained love making has been supplanted, extending our beings, becoming our challenge.  The Tango alternates patterns of space and closeness with syncopated rhythms of violence and passion.  Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go.  Rock and Roll ushered in a wild abandonment of morality to a tune of conspicuous sexuality.  The rhythm of music exhibits striking harmonies with the rhythm of our love lives.  Can I be soft and gentle like a warm breeze but also wild and unrestrained like in the pulp novels?  Shall I make love to the William Tell overture or would Shakira’s lyrics work better?

Baby I would climb the Andes solely 

To count the freckles on your body 

Never could imagine there were only

Too many ways to love somebody  — (From “Whenever, Wherever,” by Shakira)

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Should my love making follow a classical structure or should it be more jazz like?  Is it enough to alternate patterns of tenderness with patterns of spontaneity or should I begin with an allegro, then an adagio, followed by a scherzo and conclude with a rondo?  And what of those who expect love to end with a crescendo or those who enjoy more syncopated jazz?

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Rondo: a recurring leading theme often found in the final movement of a sonata

Whether goes my writing.  I have written this concerto to writing in four parts to reflect the universality of the rhythm of life.  We form, norm, storm and then perform.  Spring is the opening that brings fresh growth to our world before the bloom of summer.  Summer brings the maturity and ripeness of life.  Fall brings the storms and winds that signify our frailty and insignificance to the universe.  Winter ends our symphony with the closure and solace that our work is done, and our day is over.

Blog+Image+-++Seasonal+RhythmsThe rhythm of life runs through our heart beats.  It runs through literature.  It runs through music.  Great music has rhythms that exhibit great variation.  Fast, slow, moderate than fast again.  Interesting speakers have a sense of rhythm in their talks.  Have you ever heard a lecture or a sermon without rhythm?  It will put you to sleep in less than five minutes.  Writing and speaking, just like music, must contain elements of rhythm.  A heart without rhythm ceases to beat.  Writing without rhythm is boring.  Life without rhythm is death.

To feel the rhythm of life,

To feel the powerful beat,

To feel the tingle in your fingers,

To feel the tingle in your feet. — (From “Rhythm Of Life,” 1969 Motion Picture Soundtrack, Song by Sammy Davis Jr.)

Our work, our art, our thoughts, and our lives are concluded with a hope to be reborn again.  We wish that someone will see the need to resume the rhythms that we have started.  Never a finality to our rhythms.  Only a continuation that started before us and will continue long after our memorials are put up.  Your headstone may simply have one verse on it or possibly it will be like the newest greeting cards.  They will walk up to your grave and press a button.  You will appear with a menu of options, and your visitor can select a video of you either singing or dancing or perhaps reading one of your writings.  Everything will have a four-part harmony.

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Time For Questions:  

Does music teach you anything about writing?  Does music speak to you?  Can writing be like a symphony?  How do you hear music?  Does it speak to you like a good poem or a good verse? What is your favorite kind of writing?  Do you ever think that the writing you enjoy could be like music?  What would it take to transform the music in your life into writing or the writing in your life into music?

Imagine if I Lived in Another World?

I woke up this morning trying to imagine what if I lived in another world in another place in another time.  What if I lived in a world where no one hated anyone else?  A world where loving others was the norm.  What if I lived in a world where everyone helped others with no thought of benefits to themselves?  What would a world be like with no greed, no selfishness and no narcissism? 

Then I thought of John Lennon’s song “Imagine.”  I can’t say I am too familiar with the lyrics from this song, but I realize I am treading on ground already imagined by many others.  Here are the lyrics from “Imagine” by John Lennon.

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us, only sky

Imagine all the people
Livin’ for today
Ah

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too

Imagine all the people
Livin’ life in peace
You

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one

Where could such a place be?  In a multiverse of possibilities, where could I find another world where peace and prosperity are guaranteed for all?  Surely, in a universe of all possibilities somewhere else people live in harmony with their environment and do not force others to live according to their standards.  Surely, there is some place in the multiverse where tolerance and respect for all is the norm. 

I would like to imagine a place like the planet Vulcan with the famous Vulcan IDIC.  Infinite Diversity through Infinite Combination.  I would like to imagine a place where people who talk about diversity and equity and inclusion are not treated as pariahs and outcasts.  I would like to imagine a world where sexual preferences are the norm and people are not expected to conform to simple dualities. 

I would like to imagine somewhere exists maybe over the rainbow where there is no homelessness and no starvation.  I would like to imagine a place where rape and child abuse are unheard of.  A place where anyone of any color or sexual orientation is free from abuse and threats and fear for their lives.  I would like to imagine a place where little children and women can walk freely at any time of the day or night without worrying about being murdered or assaulted. 

I am nowhere near the dreamer that John Lennon was though I think dreamers should be sacred in our world.  I would like to see a place or country where people dream more and hate less. 

I woke up this morning feeling like I am in the wrong world at the wrong time and in the wrong place. I don’t belong here anymore.  I can’t read the news or listen to the radio or watch tv because they keep shouting to me over and over and over again that I don’t belong here anymore.  I have outlived my time and my usefulness.  I can only mourn for a place that is beyond my imagination. 

I want to live in a world where kindness and compassion and respect for all human beings is the norm.  Somewhere, I keep imagining that there is a place where violence and jealousy and revenge do not exist. 

Perhaps if I go back to sleep, I can return to reality.  I can stop imagining things that only bring me tears and heartache.  Things that make me loath my own humanity.  I wonder if I can ever find a brotherhood or sisterhood of love again in this world.  Perhaps in my dreams, I can find the place I want to go to. 

 

The Rich Young Man and the Novice Nun

The following story was related to me in a much briefer format at my Jesuit Retreat in July of 2024.  The Retreat Master told this tale to show the virtue of generosity.  In the story that he narrated, it involved a beggar and a nun.  I have embellished the story by changing the nature of the characters and the activities somewhat.  I do not know where the original tale came from but if anyone has an inkling, I would love to receive the name so that I can give credit to the author. —- John P. 

Once upon a time there was a young man named Ethan who was born into a very affluent family.  Ethan was brought up with all the goodies and toys that a rich family could afford.  Ethan was an only child to an elderly couple who could not believe their good fortune in having a son and heir in their later days.  To say he was spoiled would be an understatement.  He was the epitome of the privileged child who thought he deserved everything he got.  He treated the family servants like dirt.  Servants in his mind were not deserving of any respect. 

Perhaps because of his privilege, life was very easy for Ethan.  He did not bother to try to get good grades or worry about going to college.  Ethan expected to live with his elderly parents until they passed away and then the family fortune would be his.  However, life often has other plans for us.  Both of Ethan’s parents died in a private plane disaster.  Ethan was only twenty years old but their deaths did not really trouble him very much.  He assumed that he would now be rich and inherit their fortune.  Which is exactly what happened.

Now on his own, Ethan took to wine, women and gambling.  His father’s financial advisors tried to warn him that he was burning through the family fortune at a prodigious rate.  Ethan would heed no warnings.  The more warnings he received the more women he bought.  The more whiskey he drank and the more he gambled.  He thought nothing of buying a diamond ring or a new car for a girlfriend.  The new girlfriend would be tossed out of his mansion in a few weeks only to be replaced by a new gold digger. 

Finally, the inevitable happened.  Ethan’s advisors told him that he was broke.  Everything he thought he owned, cars, mansion, and boats would have to be sold to pay off his debts.  Ethan was astounded.  It took a few weeks, and an eviction notice before Ethan realized that he had no skills, no trade, no education and no money.  Indeed, he had no real friends either as he soon found out.  Attempts to borrow money from the bank and friends went nowhere.  He was on his own. 

Ethan went to a casino one night to see if he could win some of his fortune back.  He ended up stone cold drunk and tossed out of the casino when they found out that he could not pay his poker bets.  Homeless and penniless, Ethan hit the streets.  In the next few months, he learned to live in a cardboard shack and find leftover food by dumpster diving.  He learned to beg to get extra money for the gin that he was still addicted to.  The other beggars and street people hated his guts.  Ethan treated other homeless people as though they were inferior to him. 

In the area where Ethan now lived, there was a monastery.  Each day, the nuns would serve a hot meal, soup, or sandwiches to the street people.  These meals were served between the hours of 11:30 AM and 1:30 PM.  Whenever Ethan would go there, he would try to arrive as late as he could so that he did not have to associate with any of the other homeless people.  He regarded them as bums and still saw himself as superior to them. 

One day, Ethan arrived at the monastery too late for lunch.  He had fallen asleep under a tree in a local park and did not wake up until about 3 PM.  Nevertheless, he showed up at the monastery to try to get some food.  He banged on the door until a young novice nun opened the door.  “What can I help you with,” she inquired.  “Took your own sweet time to get here,” he belligerently replied.  “I want some food.”   “I am sorry,” Sister Regina said, “but the kitchen is closed, and we have no food prepared.”  “Don’t give me that bullshit, you have food, you are just too lazy to help another human being.  I thought your Jesus said to feed the hungry.  Well, I am hungry now and I want some food now.”    

Sister Regina thought about it for a minute but just then another Sister came to the door.  “Go away,” said the other Sister and “come back tomorrow at the proper lunch time.”  “No, that’s all right,” said Sister Regina, “I will try to find something for him to eat.”  She asked Ethan to “please wait here while I fix something for you to eat.”  Ethan agreed but warned her to hurry up as he was really hungry. 

Sister Regina went to the kitchen refrigerator and found some different lunch meats.  She located some bread and mayonnaise and made a nice cold cuts sandwich.  She grabbed a small lunch bag and put the sandwich in the bag.  Just as she was headed out of the kitchen, she noticed a candy bar on a shelf.  She thought this would make a nice desert and proceeded to pack the bar in with the sandwich. 

When she arrived back at the door, she opened the door and Ethan was waiting there. She told Ethan that she had found some cold cuts and made him a sandwich.  Ethan grabbed the bag and replied that she had taken her damn sweet time about it.  He went away without saying another word. 

Ethan walked to his private place in the park under his favorite tree.  He sat down and plucked the sandwich from the bag.  He took his time to eat the sandwich which he thought was very good.  He was about to throw the bag away, when he noticed that there was something else in the bag.  He reached inside the bar and found the candy bar.  At that point, something very mysterious happened.  Ethan thought “Well, I wonder why she gave me a candy bar?  Perhaps she was being nice to me. I wonder why she would do that?”  That is when it struck him. 

She was nice to him when he was a jerk towards her.  She did not have to include the candy bar.  Maybe I have been a jerk my whole life, he thought.  The more he thought about it, the more ashamed he was of the way he treated her and other people.  Somehow, sitting under that tree, Ethan resolved to change his life.  From now on, he was going to be kind to other people and to help them out when he could.  He would start today by going back to the monastery and apologizing to the young novitiate.

It was getting late and around about supper time when he arrived back at the monastery.  He knocked gently on the door and waited.  The door opened and it was the other Sister who had told him to go away before.  “What do you want,” she asked?  “I would like to speak to the young Sister that made the sandwich for me,” he said.  “Wait right here.” he was told, “I will see if she is available.”

Sister Regina came to the door and greeted Ethan.  “What can I do for you,” she inquired? “Nothing,” replied Ethan.  He than got down upon both knees and said “I am so sorry for the way that I treated you before.  I did not even deserve a sandwich and yet you took the time to make it for me and even add a candy bar.  I want you to know how grateful I am to you for that.  You have helped me to see the world completely differently.  From now on, every day I will come here early to help make lunch for the other homeless people and to help out any way I can.”  Sister Regina recognized that Ethan was sincere, and she told him how happy they would be for his help. 

Ethan did just as he said he would.  He showed up every day early to help prepare food and left late after the dishes and the kitchen had been cleaned.  Within a year, the Sisters voted to hire Ethan as a cook and custodian.  He lived in the monastery another fifty or so years until he passed away.  Before he died, he asked to see Mother Regina who had now become the head of the monastery.  Taking her hand, he told her how blessed he was to have had her come into his life.  He had lived a life that he wanted to and had no regrets.  No amount of fame or fortune could ever equal the happiness that he had found by helping others. 

“I want a president with a record of public service, someone whose life’s work shows our children that we don’t chase fame and fortune for ourselves: we fight to give everyone a chance to succeed.”  — Michelle Obama

What is Life without a Song to Live By?

Sometimes my mind simmers with proverbs or aphorisms.  “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you may die.”  “The test of courage comes when we are in the minority; while the test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.”  Hardly a day goes by when one or more of these pithy sayings does not assume authority over my daily life.

On other days, I am more guided by messages embedded in some song.  For instance, the idea of “Tradition” is a theme in the musical Fiddler on the Roof.”

Who, day and night, must scramble for a living,

Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers?

And who has the right, as master of the house,

To have the final word at home?

The Papa, the Papa!  Tradition.

The Papa, the Papa!  Tradition.

My blog this week is simply a mélange or medley of some of the songs that give me inspiration.  Messages that without being invited often invade my life.  There is no particular order or priority to the songs in this blog.  I don’t know why or how these musical pieces pop up;  but suddenly, some extraneous words, activities or events trigger them.   Before I know it, I am humming a refrain in my mind. (If you care to hear the songs noted below, just click on the title which is hyperlinked.

Respect: Aretha Franklin

All I’m askin’ is for a little respect when you come home

(Just a little bit) Baby

(Just a little bit) When you get home

(Just a little bit) Yeah

(Just a little bit)

Isn’t this something we all want?  Just a little respect!  Sometimes it seems so hard to find these days.  The idea of a “Righteous Person” or a Mensch does not seem to resonate with modern society.

Ambition: Wale

The time is now on everything

Took my heart away from money, I ain’t interested in fame

And I pray that never change

Ambition is priceless, it’s something that’s in your veins

What is ambition?  When is it good and when does it corrupt our lives?  The Greeks had the concept of the “Golden Mean” and it certainly should guide our ambition or we become totally corrupted.

Trouble:  Robert Preston

We’ve surely got trouble (we’ve surely got trouble)

Right here in River City (right here)

Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule

(Our children’s children gonna have trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble)

A cute song but it reminds me constantly of the need to be on the lookout for politicians that use hyperbole to sow fear in the polis so that they can reap their rewards.

Dreamin:  Johnny Burnette

Well, I’ll keep on dreamin’

Keep right on dreamin’

Dreamin’ ’til my dreamin’ comes true

My entire life often seems like one big dream.  Dreaming is more of a process for me than an end state.  I like to think that I am a Realist but more often I am an idealist.  I dream of a world defined by the words of Martin Luther King.

“I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right down in Alabama little Black boys and Black girls will be able to join hands with little White boys and White girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.”

Camelot:  Richard Burton

The snow may never slush upon the hillside

By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear

In short, there’s simply not a more congenial spot

For happily ever after in than here in Camelot

Is there a place on this earth where peace and justice reign?  Where I can live happily ever after.  Where there is no fear or evil.  I am still looking for this place.  It exists in my mind.  If only I could find its physical manifestation.

Lonely Teardrops:  Jackie Wilson

My Heart Is cryin’, cryin’

Lonely Teardrops

My pillows never dry of

Lonely Teardrops

Who among you has not felt the pain of loneliness?  James Bond said that “Boredom” was the worst curse of all.  I disagree.  Loneliness is the worst curse of all.  No physical pain is as great as the heart ache of loneliness.  No man or woman wants to do battle with loneliness.  Sadly, it must come to all of us someday.

Satisfaction:  Rolling Stones

I can’t get no satisfaction

I can’t get no satisfaction

‘Cause I try and I try and I try and I try

I can’t get no, I can’t get no satisfaction

Sounds like a whine!  But we all have those days when nothing seems to go right.  We call our insurance companies, or we call our bank, or we call our hospital and we “Can’t get no satisfaction.”  I often wonder if anyone really cares about our satisfaction.

Old Man River:  Paul Robeson

Ah gits weary

An’ sick of tryin’;

Ah’m tired of livin’

An’ skeered of dyin’,

But Ol’ Man River,

He jes’ keeps rollin’ along!

I’m sitting on the bank of the Mississippi watching the river flow or I’m watching the tide roll in on the “Dock of the Bay.”  I am sick of tryin and I am sick of livin.  Suddenly, every problem I have just melts away.  My problems are mostly in my mind.  The river doesn’t care.  The ocean doesn’t care.  The river rolls.  The tide comes in.  Life goes on.

Well, that’s all folks!  I have dozens, maybe hundreds of other refrains.  Many of them will remain hidden until suddenly the right chord is struck, and I will be humming them in my mind.

So long, farewell

Auf Wiederseh’n, goodbye

I leave, and heave

A sigh and say goodbye

Goodbye

From — The Sound of Music

 

My Final Will and Testament —Things That I Loved in Life —Reflection #1

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Last year at my 40th Demontreville Retreat, one of the exercises that we were given by the Retreat Master included a very challenging set of thoughts.  The worksheet for the activity was labeled as “A Testament.” I took the worksheet and instructions home with me.  It had fourteen tasks or reflections to complete.  I did not desire to complete them during the retreat.  It is now almost a year since my retreat, and I have decided to make the mental and emotional effort necessary to complete this “Testament.”

I am going to complete one or two reflections every other day for the next few weeks.  I would love it if you would do these tasks along with me.  If you would like to share your thoughts, that would be great, but I am not expecting anyone to do so.  I would like to know if you find any benefit in completing these activities.

The worksheet started with these instructions:

Imagine that this is the last day of your life on earth.  In the time that you have left, you want to leave a “Testament” for your family and friends.  Each of the following could serve as chapter headings for your “Testament.”

 1.These are the Things that I have loved in life.

Wow, where to start?  The effort brings tears to my eyes.  I fear that I have loved and lost too much.  In Alfred Lord Tennyson’s famous poem “In Memoriam A.H.H.” he writes:

I hold it true, whate’er befall;

I feel it when I sorrow most;

‘Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all.  —- Canto XXVII

If only I could agree with Tennyson.  My soul does cry out for remorse and forgiveness but giving it to myself seems hard to come by.  The people that loved me and cared about me that I scorned in my life are mostly shadows now of another era.  An epoch that I want to forget about.  Can we really change?  Have I really changed.  I am ashamed to list what I have loved because I was so careless and thoughtless with so much of it.  If only I believed in a God of Forgiveness, it would make this effort so much easier.

I won’t say I have ever loved a thing.  I have never loved money, cars, or possessions.  I have loved the thought of fame and fortune.  I have never completely let go of the idea that around the next corner awaits my vindication.  Fame and fortune will anoint me as the true Knight that I dreamed of being.  When I was ten years old, I wanted to be an astronaut.  I wanted to fly into space on a rocket ship years before Captain Kirk was even born (at least on TV.) I loved the idea of adventure and discovering new places, things and ideas.  But my dreams were dashed by reality.  I was too short to be an astronaut and my eyes were not good enough to be a pilot.  Biological requirements that were set by who knows and for what reasons that dashed all hope of my dreams of going to the stars.

I have loved a few people.  Similar to my relationship with God, I am an Atheist when it comes to love.  Can you really love a car?  Can you love your new house?  Love seems to me something that must be reciprocal.  Only humans can really reciprocate love.  Even pets are only capable of licking your face.   However, with humans, most of the love in the world is a misnomer for lust.  Love at first sight is the most egregious example of lust to ever exist.  I see a woman with nice legs or nice breasts, and I fall “IN LOVE.”  Another idiotic phrase that should be stricken from humanity.  Six weeks later, we are married and promise to “Love and Cherish” each other for life.  This bliss or LOVE may last for a few months or years until the lust has all but disappeared and reality has set in.

I have never ever fallen in love with anybody much less anything.  I love Karen.  I love my sister Jeanine.  I love several old friends.  Love for me has to be earned.  It has to develop over time as with the “Velveteen Rabbit”,  “It’s a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.” — Margery Williams

Can I child really love a stuffed toy?  The logician in me says NO.  The cynic in me says NO.  The realist in me says NO.  My heart says YES, thereby negating much of what I have probably already said about love.  Love is in one sense logical and rational.  In another sense, it is emotional, illogical, and irrational.  I still question loving your car or loving your house, but I do not question the love that some people may have for their pets or even an inanimate object.  Reason tells me that a pet stuffed rabbit can somehow personify “love” much better than my desire for a Ferrari ever could.  I still can’t imagine in what warped dimension I might live where I could fall in love with a Ferrari or even cry when it was gone.

I shall add to my list of “Loves” the following:

  • Books
  • Ideas
  • Writing
  • Music
  • Food
  • Travel
  • Adventure
  • Adversity
  • Challenges

Number 2 of 14 Reflections in this Testament exercise is as follows: 

  1. These are the experiences that I have cherished.

I am posting this as a sort of “heads up” to give you some time to think about your own experiences.  I will reflect on mine in my next blog:

Here are some of my favorite quotes on love:

  • Jesus said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13
  •  “I hope it’s okay if I love you forever.” — Ally Maine, “A Star Is Born”
  •  “Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.” — Zora Neale Hurston
  •  “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” ― Martin Luther King Jr.
  •  “Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.” ― Robert A. Heinlein
  •  Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies. — Aristotle

 

 

 

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