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Weekend marriage licenses: Shenanigans


Do we as a modern society need to regulate sex? We are not talking about prostitution here. All though, when government gets involved to a point to suggest a type of contract between partners who are about to have sex…then all that is missing is a price, and a list of expected responsibilities of each partner to cover every eventualities in the act.

California legislators are proposing new regulations, in regulating casual sex.

While the bill appears to be motivated by noble intentions; we can’t regulate all of society by good intentions alone, without also taking into account results, and unintended consequences with said regulations.

From Breitbart News:

SB 967, amended last week by state Sen. Kevin de Leon (D-Los Angeles), would mandate that college students obtain “an affirmative, unambiguous, and conscious decision by each participant to engage in mutually agreed-upon sexual activity.”

Can we for the sake of simpler terms and greater understanding just call it—A weekend marriage license?

the slippery slope of such regulations are that such bills of this type could open the door to the prosecution of a partner for rape, if the other partner regrets having sex with them the next day, even though they had no problem with it before or during the act. It’s an attempt to control the upswing of college rape claims. But because there is also a problem with underage partying and drinking, activities that could also lead to lowered inhabitation, or even taking advantage of people under the influence / unwanted sexual encounter / rape, why wouldn’t there be any needs of farther regulating the laws and activities already on the books pertaining to underage drinking and the supply of alcohol to people under the age?

Why you ask? Because alcohol makes people do stupid stuff!

Impaired people make mistakes, doing all sorts of stupid stuff; most of all impaired people aren’t in a position in making good judgments. Thus escalating, by astronomical odds the likelihood of a life changing event to take place in their lives.

I’m not in support of anyone taking advantage of another person sexually, under any circumstances. But most of all we shouldn’t also turn the table on true rape by painting with a broad brush, and making someone’s conscience regrets the new future rape case.

If we need to go down that road as a society of legislation and creating what simply would become a “Weekend Marriage License” type of contract between sexual partners. Does that also mean that we need new and expanded Monday morning divorce court to dissolve said contracts? Maybe for a fee / new tax collected? All in the name of public safety of course, and how is that all that different from legal prostitution.  Obtain the proper licensing, and all is good. Refuse to obtain said licensing, signed sealed and delivered by all parties, you become a sexual predator / rapist.

Look let’s not make too light of a serious subject, let’s not exaggerate to the level of being absurd. But let’s not allow the government to regulate our lived to that level of absurdity either.

It just seems to me that if kids in college; many of whom had never had to live on their own before as adults, are then also expected to write their own house rules, to deal with the pressures and demands of higher learning, and recreational use of drugs, alcohol or even casual sex; if society feels the need of playing the part of parent to protect them from all of that? Then we need to regulate every aspect of the college student’s life and recreation in the same name of safety, right? At what point do we let our children grow-up, and allowed to develop into outstanding adults, to develop the attitudes of being able to be independent people, instead of embracing the helplessness existence of victimhood?

A society without boundaries has no value. But a society with too many boundaries, or regulations, suffers paralyzes, and stagnates.

There is no real surprise then that all good judgments will come from experiences. And all of that comes from individual bad judgments. Government can’t regulate people from entertaining thoughts, good or bad, or acting on them. Creating a so-called weekend marriage licenses doesn’t remove risks, but promotes distrust between the genders, and relationships in people’s lives.

I’m just not sure that its governments job in becoming society’s regulatory condom, protecting it from that unwanted transmitted disease which is government regulation between the sheets.

California Liberals Pass Bill to Regulate Sex and Show America the Control Freaks They Really Are http://www.ijreview.com/2014/06/144860-california-bill-criminalizes-dating/

Walking just off the beaten path


Walking just off the beaten path

It seems the only memories that adults have of childhood fun is too often caped by their negative experiences. Just imagine back when you were a kid and when you first stepped into dog crap! What exactly where you doing, or what thoughts were going through your mind right up to that point when you took that step? You probably don’t remember? Or you don’t know or have forgotten the whys or even the where’s to those times. Were they were happy fun times that then suddenly changed? Being so much younger than, then now, did you change your views of having fun in grassy fields, despite the uncomfortable memory and feeling of yucky on your shoes?

Why is it as adults we constantly look for the hidden crap in life? Can’t we just except there are risks in life? Shouldn’t we be more in tune with our attitudes towards these uncomfortable risks? Because our attitudes are the only obstacles in getting to that land where the impossible is possible finely arriving at happiness? We should all be more accepting at times in working hard in achieving our goals, remembering you have to get your hands a little dirty once in a while because every kind of success both big and small like grassy fields have hidden crap along the way!

I had this opportunity to go to a public event where there was plenty of diversity. Young and old from the ages of brand new to 100 years, represented by every type of ethnicity the world had to offer. There was singing, dancing, games, food & drink, and all kinds of other fun in the sun. For the kids plenty of toys—things to climb, swings, and small hand toys (balls etc.) to play a verity of games with. It was a good time for people watching, as well as friendly competitions like the pie eating, or watermelon eating contests. This day had all of the essential ingredients needed for the well-designed machinery of an all-around good afternoon lubricated into a well running social event sustained with the suns warmth, suntan lotion, and cold drinks.

Watching some young kids I noticed out of the corner of my eye. A girl talking to another girl, not so surprising to see all by its self, but these two were different kinds of different, not to say ethnicities as well. Again no real shock here for me but for the intolerant type, I’m sure they were thinking “what gives”?

I notice the kids were playing around with all the different toys, following each other, encouraging each other even challenging each other to some games that they made-up on the fly. Other kids soon joined in to the fun, turning into a real cornucopia of ethnicities while interacting peacefully sharing in that thing we all could use in our life once in a while called… fun!

I was beginning to think of this day, or this place as just a dream that I was having. It seemed too much like that impossible dream Marten Luther had in his speech “I have a dream”, where he hoped that people would judge people not on the color of one’s skin but by the content of character. But then it seemed I was just dreaming?

Somehow adult humans seem to forget their inner child and the ability to dream the impossible while making the impossible possible happen. Is that really too much to ask?

All though I was somehow reminded of all of the rhetoric in the news that was being bantered around of late, the Travon Marten trial events with all of the racist comments seen on the internet (Facebook and twitter and alike), not to say or add into the mix the social hucksters of hate–you know the types I’m talking about? Those ex-minister’s or self-proclaimed ones, those community leaders who seem to have an endless supply of money for themselves while claiming to be the voice of the poor, as they empty the poor’s pockets, in exchange they filling their minds with social contempt. Yes those people, the ones who make the news in an effort to divide a nation by claiming not to judge by color of skin, but by protecting and promoting one skin color problems over the others. Casing guilt, and blame towards, and within the content of characters possessed within the oppositions skin color for public popularity and personal gain. Somehow all of this rhetoric reminds me of children complaining about dog crap on their shoes. We know better, by making constant complaints just a person’s personal game being played out so they will not have to get their hands dirty in making an effort on their own.

Last I checked Racism (the hatred of a different ethnicity simply by the virtue of hating that person because they were born into it) never seems to be accepted as the same car driven home into the minds of others in reverse by the race baiters.

At what point in life does the birth of racism breathe its first breath of hatred?

Wisdom is supposed to be a collection of experiences, values or views, timeless principles–whether they are moral or religious tenets, in the pursuit of any and all discoveries of the truth. For truth needs no consensus or public popularity to prove it exists, it simply stands on its own as fact!

So where does racism come from? How is it so appealing to people who would individuality accepts the persona, the disposition, the nature, and the temperament of racism as a value? The forgetfulness of humans who would practice racism, must have first have forgotten the golden rule–Treat people in the same way that you would have them treat you in return. Or the last 6 of the 10 commandments for those who claim to be religious but would build a façade out of religious belief–thinking they are being religious and yet accepting the smallest degree of agreement to those who would express their own brand of racism while claiming some religious superiority? Jessie Jackson, Al Sharpton, you guys shouldn’t be throwing any stones–if you know what I mean?

Yet Sharpton Still Gets Pass: rape hoaxer Tawana Brawley begins paying defamation damages 25 years later… http://nyp.st/13Emx4E  via @nypost

How could anyone think a collection of adults in society or in government could eliminate the racist view or even the curriculum within the secret school of racism that seem to exist? No amount of government regulations or even a branded mindset of “social justice”, or “collective salvation” will ever remove the self-chosen thoughts of division. Critical thinking could if used properly. It could eliminate the closed mindedness of racism, or people choosing to see everyone else in terms of ethnicity. Racist thoughts are only based on assumptions without testing them for verified results of truth. Remember truth can stand on its own, and doesn’t need any support to do so. It is deceptive humans that have conceive the ideas in an effort to manipulate, to change truth as they rationalize to themselves and others there is no need for any applications of self-examination to their attitudes or definitions of truth. Racism exercises tenants of mental gymnastics, bending and twisting, massaging at will in order to cast blame while doing the exact same things to others. Even claiming to be offended doesn’t create an exemption to offend.

The secret school of racism does exist because from my views of reality on this day it seems people can celebrate of all types of ethnicities coming together under the sun. Even those people kids with preconceived hidden thoughts deep within their minds, that I’m sure have at least for one moment in time allowed themselves a rest from the taxing energies of hate. Not allowing these feelings to boil to the surface and being expressed outwardly does show proof positive it can be controlled by choice.

So in full view for everyone to see or to take notice of these kids aged from 3 to 7-year-olds playing without a care in the world, with no animists towards racism, no one was seeking any dividing forces of color, or even noticing ethnicity. They see the endless possibilities of collaboration to achieve fun expressed in discovery of just what it means to “judge not, unless you are judged.” they value other little people by their content of characters and in sharing in the fun. So it easy to see every negative is taught and learned from adult examples or the lack thereof….??

Somehow in a world where adults rule the day, claiming great wisdom and the only ones to have the ability to teach children, it seem some of the great wisdom is purposefully over looked allowing their own biases and temptations though secretly held within; they are teaching biases, prejudices or at the very least they have failed to teach the importance to fight against those negative thoughts within the mind once they are thought of. Instead they choose to rely on the government to pass regulations, laws, or create greater amounts of manipulative peer pressure through political correctness; as if partialities are a forgone conclusion as being able to eliminated racism in the minds of people who have actively chosen to practice it. There is no time travel, there is no such thing as correcting the wrongs of the past by engaging in the same actions but in reverse in the present. It is impossible to eliminate ones offence by also offending another. It is just as impossible to please everyone at the same time, all of the time.

At some point all people, if not then the people in government must certainly realize that “people changed against their will are of the same opinion still”.

The power of racism is therefore in each one of us and we could end it once and for all if only we would choose to do so? The proof of that is right here… as I watch these playing kids. We could all embrace the lost knowledge of our childhood wisdom instead of casting it aside as being unwise, inexperienced, and childish. Because the way I’m seeing it these kid who are strangers are interacting with each other peacefully and having fun. This isn’t because of some lack of experience or any problem for them, its adults refusing to be adults.

Ending the hidden and secret schools of racism is only possible if individual adults stop going down that well beaten pathway and stop applying for those teaching positions that seem to be always available! Collectively we can’t change today instantaneously, but certainly we can impact tomorrow’s results with today’s actions.

Social walls… moving into uncharted territory?


What exactly make for a boorish neighbor? Where is the solution? Alas, couldn’t a complaint just be an expression of dissatisfaction over some issue that could just as easily then be resolved as two adults? It seems we in modern society are just living a bit too closely to each other these days. Your life style, or mine, seems to be just rubbing people wrongly when the intention was never that. Or because we live too closely to each other we become aware of a neighbor who are a bit hypersensitive to often, or they’re real reason to live, is to become an Olympic champion complainer, complaining over little to nothing to you? Everyone has the right to live and let live, until that neighbor, who is happily willing to make an attempt to trample our rights, in the rigged exercise of their own.

Because our new modern homes are on postage stamp size lots that are close enough to lean out of our windows and be able to shake hands with each other. (Not a recommendation or an endorsement to make such an attempt) It can make for some neighborly challenges to say the least. Throwing into the mix of things an Olympic hypersensitive person, whose specialty is complaining, you may have just moved into uncharted territory?

When it comes to noise, what is a frivolous complaint, and what is legitimate? Isn’t loud noise loud noise—should it be blaring music, baying hounds, screaming kids, or screaming parents who scream loudly at their kids, those teen-aged drivers who rev their hot rods, or those old men with midlife crisis’s that now drive Harley Davison motorcycles, net alone rev them up late at night, or just an oversized flag snapping, crackling, those noises that one would make when the wind is whipping around? None of these are a laughing matters when one needs sleep!

At some point a reasonable grievance, expressed a bit too often, will bread resentments, creating a point where people may start building those social walls to protect themselves from the childish actions and reactions, to those noisy nuisances over just peacefully resolving them. One who causes extreme noise nuisance, the other who is perceived as a complaining noisy nuisance? All of these are nothing but intrusions on what the other person sees as being normal. When we are so close to the problem, it is hard to understand the problem, without also having an open mind to see it from the others point of view. So when is it a reasonable, making attempt to live within our own rights without seeing them trampled by those who are religiously rigged in exercising of their own at our expense?

A recent story had this person complaining, and wondering what to do?

“Our neighbor’s unusually large, illuminated American flag that makes so much noise on windy nights that we have to retreat to another bedroom to sleep? He refuses to take it down on even the most blustery nights, and it flaps loudly right outside our second-floor bedroom window. He has let us know that this is politically sensitive to him and I’m sure he would have no qualms about going to the local press if we were to formally complain. There’s apparently no town ordinance regarding this. What can we do?”

Your thinking, a loud, noisy, flapping, snapping whipping flag on breezy nights keeping tired, exhausted, physically spent people from their sleep, and a neighbor who is just got an attitude in resolving the issue? Really? It is true–but how would you all handle it? What is reasonable? What is the adult way of resolving it, or is there a resolution, or is the complaint just hypersensitive?

I heard a story once; where a kid kept kicking a football into a neighbor’s yard, then when screaming after it early mornings, most, if not every weekend mornings, just to repeat it all over again until parents got up to make breakfast. An annoying alarm clock to say the least. Over the course of a summer this was complained about, one neighbor to the other. These complaints were respectfully given, and ample time in resolving the nuisance was also given. The problem was those social walls as defensive actions were built one brick after the other, separating common sense from common decency. These neighbors hardly spoke with each other afterwards. The social walls, and how dar you talk about my kid that way, separated people for the most part in being able to get along with each other. I would hate to think if the roles would have been reversed, what the reactions would have been?

Slow to anger, these people didn’t wish to go to war with their neighbor, and true to form when the summer was over, it stopped! Until the next summer. A year older, and so much stronger, the boy kicked the ball onto the porch and added a loud thud to the screaming, that was also repeated several times each morning. Where was the neighborly respect for other people’s property? What would happen if the window would be broken by the ball? What to do, when each side sees the other as crazy?

Well, one day the boy left the ball on the front lawn. After dark the annoyed, went over and retrieved the ball. It would have been easy to keep the ball. But these parents would have just gotten another when the boy complained about not having a ball to kick around. These parents just allowed the boy to rule the roost. So (we will call the annoyed person Mr. X) Mr. X took the ball down into his basement and into his shop, and opened the ball up and filled it with rocks, closing it again careful to re-stitching the ball exactly as it was manufactured. Then he placed the ball back onto the lawn, exactly where it first was. Grandpaw…..excuse me….Mr. X never complained about losing sleep that night.

True to form the boy, ran out of the house on Sunday morning and hauled off and kicked the ball as hard as he could, as he had been doing all summer long. Instead of a thud of the ball crashing into the neighbor’s porch, it was ear-piercing screams of pain. Resulting from a broken foot.

From that time on Mr. X got a great night sleep, even on weekends. Problem solved.

Because this happened back in 1950 or so, the parents quietly just learned a lesson along with the boy, about treating your neighbors with some respect. Treating people in the same way as one would like to be treated. Is what people used to say when trying to instruct people on proper behaviours.

These days, people get litigious and sue! So what does one do now days with unreasonable neighbors, whether it is noisy balls being kicked early mornings, or those noisy patriotic flag flying neighbors that are allowing your sleep to be blown away in the wind?

Story at…   http://www.bankrate.com/finance/real-estate/flag-drives-nappers-mad.aspx?ec_id=cmctre_01_comm_RE_image_headline

Future of awesome, mingled with bovine victory!


Stories that are factions, are just a mixture of facts & fiction. Not that there is any intention to distort facts? But more of a blending of two different people’s stories into one. As children grow up, don’t we take on the characteristics of the people around us, or just bits and pieces, sprinkled with fictional fragments of others, of whom we once have rubbed up against in life, as the presentations of what we have become? What we will be? Or what drives us towards our own branded individualism?

In the end, everything that we may discover in life, the most valuable things, those memories and experiences are what makes life worth while.

Long before there were the electronic entertainments of video games, social media, text messaging, or even E-mail; back in the slower time of the past, way back to those semi-dark ages of times, when snail-mail was the fastest thing going—yea decades ago. Kids had to have mental toughness, along with well-developed imaginations. There were no such things as a text-messaging thumb! Whining about a power outages, or how that was so cruel to have to endure. Because computers, TV’s, video games, even cell phones need power. Back in the day, complaining about power outages just wasn’t excepted or allowed. After all it was an adventure, candle light indoor camping, with fire-place rosted marshmallows to boot! It was all good!

In these times, schools were places of higher learning, where bullies got one black-eye, if not two, because good people banded together on the principles, that good always won in the end. Why did those easier times of the past, give way to our litigious, laborious, over caffeinated, high-speed, and run like hell lives where we live in fear of everything, our modern progressive lives of today?

There are two ways in raising your heart rate; one is exercising, the other is getting pissed-off remembering those good times when you were a child, and realizing that your kids are never going to have those same experiences. I always ended up in the same spot that I started out in when I exercise. Within our modern lives it seems like the same thing. Thoughts and memories of the past while exercising made me weary and exhausted. I stop the treadmill and left the fitness center.

Trying to remember all of those summertime’s as a kid, as being the best. Far better than the deadlines, and stresses of our present existences. Not really wanting to except, that our lives have become that what we have built out of them. Where were those summertime’s of the past? Where relatives (for a kid this meant “cousins”) they would always come over to our house, or at time’s we went to theirs. Plenty of good food, caused us to concoct entertainments to burn off all of our energy. These were far better realities, then those lives of hell we find ourselves in today, having to run in place on a treadmill just to keep fit. Not liking any of it, yet complaining about all of it.

Where did our mental toughness go? Did we forget how to entertain ourselves within our own concoctions in order to relieve stress?

As kids we came up with annual family sporting events. We had Ping Pong tournaments if it was raining out. Living in the Northwest where we receive more liquid sunshine then actual sunshine, indoor events were part of it–no TV at all. When and if it was sunny we had football, basketball, tag, and night-time hide-and-go-seek. We would play in and around the trees in the yard, completely shaded during the heat of the day, and play with child-like ferocity the rest of the day into the night, only taking breaks to refuel/eat as fast as we could, and resume play till we collapsed.

Being that we were smaller kids we all played football. Smaller yards seemed so big then. Later on all grown by a few years, we thought of ourselves as giants and so basketball seemed the sport to play. But play we did. As we got older we drove ourselves to playing fields, Because those yards truly were too small to play in. At the park if there were other kids, we invited them to join in. The more the merrier.

If the park was too crowded to play, then at times we played in farm fields, sand dunes, oversized yards fenced off by barbed wire. Making the game of football more interesting, the barbed wire was the unnamed defensive player for both teams, which also played on both ends of the field as the goal. Nothing seems impossible when you’re young and invincible. So barbed wire goal lines and defenders were by nature small things to overcome. I remember only one time out of the many times that we played there, where a player got caught on the fence doing a diving leap for a touchdown pass. It turned out a play that is still talked about at reunions. The catch was made, the player was stuck on the top run of the wire, and needed every player to lift them off the wired fence, and I bare the scar to prove it all to be true.

On another day when energy levels were over the top. I remember one such fun-filled adventure, in between rainy days we found a field to play in, that to us was NFL great. Few rocks, grass everywhere, it looked NFL approved minus 60,000 screaming fans. In the heat of play we completely overlooked the facts that… where there are farms, open fields by water, there were also the remnants of animals.

Someone once said. “If you ever played football in a cow pasture, you know the meaning of “Watch your step.”

When one team started to pull away score wise, the game got more intensely played. Less attention was paid to the facts of what would become a small wrinkle to the game. Sprinkled throughout the field was the tangible evidence of the existence that cows lived here, slipping and falling was more of a tightrope style of play. Tackling the ball carrier that was rushing for a first down, or a goal, made the game of football into a quick step dance of bravado, within a mine-field. It wasn’t long before the question became more of a when, to the where, in how bad you want to win–over the slipping sliding, evidence of tackling, and the odor of sweat mingled with bovine victory.

Long past those distant memories of those games we played, we all seem to hang onto the facts that sports are a preparation for life. But we all seem to want to reduce the risks to a point of stopping play or even the limiting the competition? But then we create society that needs instantaneous success. We seem to forget those frequented environments of our past, the friends we enjoy, books we read, movies we watch, music we listen to, the media we allow ourselves to adsorbed through osmosis, causing those marks if not scars on / in us, all because… our forgotten pasts have led us to see the negatives before the good. Today there seems no good reasons for obstacles, net alone making an effort in overcoming them. We demand something of an unrealistic fantasy of our life, the fulfillment of our dreams to our expectations, and within out timelines. No wonder we live in a world as screwed up this one. We seem to have forgotten to look for the fun and exciting within a child like attitudes of making unequaled efforts in finding it. We therefore have a time in history, now, today, where we live on the fuel of unequaled personal dissatisfaction.

Now as present adults, we see all of the cow dung, and never seem to see the NFL approved green grass, leaving what fun there is behind, our heads hung low.

We shouldn’t forget child-like ability’s to make boring times into adventurous ones; the limitless ability’s to naturally want to promote positive outcomes to what seems impossible. That belief in principles of being noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious— that endless energy in trying to be the best we can be, not the work; the beautiful, not the ugly, promoting things to parse, not things to curse. Seeing everything with childlike-eye-sight through the acquired wisdom of experiencing all that we can while growing up. This alone should inspire to double down in our efforts to winning the game; for  life is a game, at times you may get crap, we may need to get our hands dirty and making the best of it all, with the knowledge that soap restores what once was.

Life is too short to get depressed over the fact we’re suffering a setback. It is a game of sorts after all. It’s okay to hate the game, but never the player! Fun is created when you try, never when it served to you on a plate, because we whined about it!

WINNERS WIN! NOT BECAUSE THEY AVOID GETTING ANY OF LIFE’S CRAP ON THEM! BUT BECAUSE THEY AREN’T AFRAID TO LOOK FOR FUN / SUCCESS IN THE CRAP, WHILE MIXING IT UP A BIT!! DOING SO WINNERS FIND THE FUTURE OF AWESOME!

All the best.

that “OH” moment


Have you had that “OH” moment when you at first meet someone new? Certain kinds of people may spark your interests, motives, or lusts, but not talking about them right now? Not excluding the above…but talking about being social, but nor necessarily limited to just being social either; just allowing for you to produce your own excuses for going out meeting people. But the question still applies all the same. Have you had that “Oh” moment when you are quietly telling yourself, you have just reached you’re limit with this person, what ever that limit is? But the only response you can visualize or say out loud, usually with some kind of funny, or surprised expression of…. OH!

You know the look? Because you all have been there.

Like take this chance meeting–the person and you are engaged in conversation, small talk, when the other person says. “I was once in an insane asylum, but doing better now. Those therapists can do wonders you know?”

“OH”! Quickly you start to fumble with the right excuse, without offending, while looking nonchalant for the exit. It isn’t that anyone cares why they were in the asylum, or if they are better now? You don’t care to find out for sure. Your not going to be a social experiment of sorts as seen in a horror movie? Nore are you asking why would anyone say that just out of the gate, by blurting it out to a would be stranger……you?

Or how about; you’re sitting at the bar enjoying a drink while unwinding. You strike up a conversation with someone, when the conversation moves to how unclean the bathroom is, and how few people wash their hands after using the bathroom. The other person is picking at the beer nuts and offers up the comment. “Yea, have you seen the bathroom sinks, and water fosses? They are just gross. I think someone even took a crap in the sink once, and it never got cleaned up properly. I just looked at it in horror and moved out the door again.” Looking up and making eye contact with you they adding. “Beer nuts?” sliding the bowl over while taking another few, and popping them into their mouth.

Not wishing to make accusations or assumptions, or even asking any questions to any facts there of, on this subject matter. You respond in the usually way, “OH!” extending a flat hand and saying. “No thanks, to those nuts.”

How about when you ask someone out on a date— The women says she needs to watch her figure and would like a salad. But then orders finger foods, drinks, and a stake….? Looking up at you responding. “Not to worry, she has an active metabolism.”

You don’t want to question her? Of course you want to believe that? But you can’t say. “Are you eating for two?” just another way in asking are you pregnant? Instead you have nothing else to say but…”OH”!

Or that one that is constantly on the cellphone while you’re eating dinner with her? You’re thoughts play different scenario’s— she’s setting up another date after you buy her dinner? Maybe just another date for drinks with a guy she likes better than you? No matter the thoughts of possible excuses running around your head. Your response is…”OH” in that moment, because if you’re buying dinner aren’t you also buying exclusivity of her attention? I know. OH!

How about this one I saw on TV once. Two people found each other, dated awhile, fell in love. While on their way up to the marriages alter, one confesses to the other because they’re riddled with guilt, so they whisper. “I want to start our union with compleat honesty.” You node your head in compleat agreement. They go on. “I once was a dude. But surgery was even more successful than my wildest dreams.”

“OH!!!!!”

I know that one is rare! But with all of the crazy reasons for getting altered with surgery, net alone more and more stories in the world of people changing themselves. There is an increasing chance of just this happening to someone in real life? Then what? Is this fraud, or robbery of individuals making good faith choices in their own lives? Will it be an “OH” moment? Or….?

Check out this story from the net; Belgian discovers his wife used to be a man after 19 years via @Telegraph http://soa.li/QE4xMLT

As you can see there are lots of different “OH” moments in life. Just how we respond to them is even a more interesting than the events where your responses were just… OH!?

Do you care to share? Come on be brave, light our giggle fuse, and let everyone enjoy past fireworks of real life happenings with those “OH moments.”

All the best.

These dreams….Our first dreams


It is said when angle travel, heaven smiles.

What becomes of those sparks, that try to escape the gravitational pull of hells fire?

Life as well as in our dreams, seem to be an endless conveyor-belts worth of beginnings rushing towards us at will. A kids life is full of excitement, interest, intrigue, countless hands on experiences, seamless and endless in wonderment; from one moment to the next, from one dream to the next reality. Life is a wondrous mystery. Questions that are unasked as of yet, soon become all answers arranged according to truths. What can’t be held, examined, experienced, or even tasted, truly isn’t real, or really understood?

A new plaything? Or just a new thing? A new type of food, or something like candy— that isn’t food at all. At least according to parents? But still tastes good. Questions abound, and at times answers aren’t long waited for. There is no such things as information over-load, exploration exhaustion, and no such thing as patience either. To the childish explorer, who views the world as their jewelry-box, and every new thing in it as a treasured gem to explore, a thing to cherish, or something new to learn.

How do you think kids view dreams? Is their first one a good one? Or just some fantasy or misunderstood wonder? Dreams are full of endless possibility’s, a world separated from realty, a new world waiting to be embraced? Could their first experiences with dreams be one of scary fright? Something unrealized, and never experienced before that only seems to come at night? Can we as humans both young or old alike, be frightened over something we haven’t experienced yet? Or would we be… unsure, intrigued, puzzled, unsteady and cautiously curious, like a very young child that examines their first piece of hard candy before tasting it? But what if dreams aren’t all sweet?

That calm easy expression of sleep, where tiny eye-lids are pulled over the eyes like tiny blankets, were fiscal muscles are all relaxed. A vision or a beam of humanity’s light, fiscally expressed as a human angles sleepy face that catches our sight. Peace and quiet are the soft blankets to the soul, giving rest and security to the young and old. But what is the view from the minds vantage point, that dreamers traveling light? A slight tremor at first, building to rapid movements of the eyes. Those same angles eyes covered in delict little blankets, begin to toss and turn, move side to side real quick. Prehaps a tear droplet that slowly escapes like a droplet of wax escaping a hot wick. Breathing that becomes heavy, labored, or distorted like someone who is sick. These are the first indications of a quiet storm that’s soon to arise, erasing that peaceful sleep, that suddenly explodes into a raging storm expressed by half-open sleeping eyes.

Dreams manifest themself’s when we sleep, by the rapid eye movements accompanied with those clumsy unvoluntary twitches of their hands, legs, and feet. Do kids also embrace dreams with interest as adults do? That same kind of intrigue, or wonderment, warped-up and embraced in the same way’s as a child does in the pursuit of everyday life? Do they see the dreams and those dreamy environments as nothing but the same thing as real life, not recognizing their state of rest, a world different when fully alert and awake? Is there a difference in a childs thoughts and mind, when being bathed by a dreams mindset glow?

You have heard the expression: “Dream big or go home!” But what if your dreams are over powering, massive, bigger then life, bigger then your experiences? Bigger then the choices you can, or have ever made?

Can we then control this mystery thing we call “Dreams”? What about fear? Can it be controlled? If so how? How is it possible to control things of the night, imagined or real like monsters that hid out of sight? How is it that under beds or in closets, in that endless darkened night, blinded we only see the never experienced before fear of fright?

We humans are funny after all, we build things and make still other things in a managed way, we build our imagination, and we control them through the art of play? We build and mold something from nothing using our minds eye, we see involuntary visions of what could be and then we create it from pictures we only see. Is it all by our own power, or by the angles who would whisper in our ears while we sleep? Those authors of imaginary delights, who would fill our heads with fun-filled adventures, where the impossible is possible, where there is a land of laughter, smiles and delight, that feeling of weightlessness or of flight.

Who should then prompt us with those deep sounds of the night? Those more sinister and mysterious, those hollow bones or sounds of terrors fright. The cool breezy sensations of the devils wing, or of spiders webs against our skin? Who sends all manner of entanglements that obscure us from all enlightened sight. A blinding curtain to snare our imaginary consciousness. Twisting and turning our minds thoughts into a blenders whirl, life’s storms rages on, just beyond our awakened state. Where is our understanding of it all? Is it just out of reach, or does it hide on the other side of sleep?

Dreams; those times where we encounter the unknown. That angels gentle kiss as we drift off to restful bliss. Or that old angels kick! The cold sweat, the racing heart, twitching churning feeling within, that storm that rages beneath our blanketed eyes. Dreams are a world of raging fright, or balloons on weightless flight, bumping against that razors edge, exploding on impact of lighting strikes, truly there is a difference between day and night?

Because there are no mass-produced humans, no rules, or rule books, no instruction manuals to them all. Is there no way to know those secrets of our dreams? Is there no control over dreams or so it seems, no wisdom that lies just under the surface, no one to even ask? Just adventures yet undiscovered, some good, some bad, some so bold, they will be relived, dreamed again until we are old? Do our dreams really matter? With no tour guides, guiding us passed our lonely places within, or those treacherous places we haven’t yet been? Should we just causally consume them as if they would be our nightly entertainment? How is this best explained to our kids, after that visitation from the terror by night; that fear of an endless conveyor-belts worth of new beginnings, where happy ever after seems so far away as it is chased by night?

So easily we bandage a wound so it to can heal. So easily we kiss away tears of pain, all to reassure, to comfort, to calm the rapid betting heart. So eagerly our arms become blankets of reassurances. But with dreams where do we place the band-aid to heal? To be able to then explain to childs point of understanding? Can anyone really hold closely and examine this mystery of why some angels viciously kick us at night, through the power of fright? How do we hold a dream of terror, at arm’s length away, to learn and examine like with all other hands-on experiences, like those experiences or lessons at play?

How can we? When a dream is like catching the wind in the palm of our hands. A supper heroes efforts in build a hand-made prison. Desperately defending by the use of those desperate grasps, those clumsy unvoluntary twitching, from sleeping motioning hands. We reach for that dream… that terror by night! We grasp at it, like its our last effort to do away with fear while putting up a good fight. That devils kicking kiss that desperately squeezes past our fingers, escaping our desperate grasp. But then there is nothing to hold! Nothing to examine, not even a tickles worth, or a tickling kiss who’s tickle would last long after we loosen those clutching hands, checking with a gasp. Did we? Could we have? Can we then find a way of explaining or even understanding, our first dreams or those empty questions that abound?  Where is the childish satisfaction, that healing, with a properly placed band-aid to the wounds brought to us endless or so it seems on life’s conveyor-belts of new experiences in dreams? Where is the peaceful gift for traveling angles hidden? Where do hells angles travel when God is not around? What is allowed? What is forbidden?

The question still seems to remain…. Where do dreams come from?

All the best.

Featured image was a Facebook copy, copyright unknown if any. Would like to give credits where they are due though, when I can.

on the advice of my attorney “a simple new years greeting”


While we live in an ever shrinking, more complicated, touchy freely world, created out of wild emotional abandon. If our lives were an old TV show they would have called it, “The wild untamed emotional kingdom”. A show that demonstrates just how crazy outbursts of the emotionally unstable really’s are.  We are often stripped of our individualism, expressed through our interactions with one another. To often afraid of being judged by others,  afraid of just what others will think of our beliefs, behaviours, interactions, even our celebrations. We have allowed political correctness to creep into our lives, controlling us right down to our interactions with other people on a daily basis. Simply because we don’t want to be the offender, of the easily offended?

Example; I’m sure something like this has happened even to you before? Have you ever gone to a movie theater that uses public service messages in-between movie trailers, telling you, the movie goer, to turn-off your cell phone, stop talking, remain quiet for everyone’s benefits? Well do you see anything missing here? Have you ever had the experience of people and their young kids in a theater disturbing someone or everyone? Talking crying, or just fussing about something. At that moment in time ever ask yourself why? How about If you had young kids under the age of ( I do not know) lets say 5-years-old, would you make some kind of excuse for your kid/kids, or parent in a way in trying not to disturb others with your kids lack of a longer standing attention span? Is it too much to ask of parents of young kids, please don’t come to the movies, or at least the “R” rated ones. So not to take the movie going experiences away from other people who can read and comply with their cell phones, for the benefits of everyone?

If that was the request made of people, would they just jump on their political correct high horse in order to brow beat people who in their opinion also hate kids? I totally understand both sides of this equation. I had kids. I couldn’t always do as I liked, seemingly having no real concern for others, disturbing some life experiences of people who hadn’t made the same choices in life as I had. Is that being kind, considerate, respectful, or a person who believes in the rule, “Treating people in the same way as I expect to be treated by others.”

Have you gone to a restaurant where people’s kids are running around with no considerations for your night out? Your trying to enjoy a meal with your significant other. We’re not talking about McDonald’s hear mind you. But an upper scale type of restaurant. How about having to view a mother brest feeding her child in that restaurant, at her table, booth, or out in the open? Yet what kind of hater of kids would complain about parents, responsibly trying to interact with some of the same privileges of those who haven’t made the parenting plunge as of yet? They are kids for God’s sake! How could you complain??

Who is being thin-skinned within these real life, every day examples?? Who is the offender, and who is the offended?? because everything political ( Political correctness included) comes down to needing a real compromise. Where are the easy compromises, to eliminate the experience of everyone on both sides of any problem from being offended, and everyone being able to go away happy, like leaving Disney land?

Truth is there is nothing in the constitution that guarantees never having to experiencing being offended by others. Nor does it hand out special privileges and rights, allowing people to react in any way, because they have experienced being offended. We have this somewhat uncomfortable thing called the legal justice system. The freedom to sue, and sue at will. If you must, sue some more, but this time for bigger money then before. If you have been wrongly sued…… then you have a sure case to counter sue. Being wrongly sued is offensive all by its self you know? Of course a lawyer that can’t win for you, may just tilt the scales in favor of believing that a nother may do the job. We have become a litigious society because we are more easily offended by just about everything, or at the very least everyone.

Litigiously speaking, we can sue for anything these days. Those who also promote political correctness are some of the most sue happy, thin-skinned self manufactured people you will ever hear about in the news today. So wishing people a Merry Christmas or a Happy New Year, could indeed get you in real hot water legally. Because we don’t really know anybody, 70% of everybody hide their true feelings from others ( according to a study of human interactions and behaviours in modern society.) I mean, they, people in general, or your friends included, just may be one of those political correct people, offended by a religious comment like Marry Christmas, or Happy New Year? It seem to me that people who are also non religious are quicker to sue, and more easily offended? (an observation of different news stories in the news at, or around, the end of the year, any year.)  Raising the secret questions of how do we interact, this time of the year with each other?

A friend of mine went the extra mile and came up with the greatest compromise that should please everyone no matter if you are, or are not, religious. Of course this still leaves people in the restaurants and theaters, offended by those parents who are pushing a parenting environments on you with kids, long before, or after you have had those responsibility’s in your life by your choice. They are the true offenders. Because nobody wants to be seen as a kid hater in public, who is prepared to openly complained? Where are the governmental protections for mood environments, peace and quiet, good will towards all men/women?

Mark Mancin thanks for sending this out for everyone to ponder for a while.

Greetings and Happy New Year to all of my Facebook friends!

Below is my New Years and Holiday Greetings on the advice of my attorney:

Enjoy and Happy New Years! May 2013 bring you all the health, happiness and joy you all truly deserve. May God Bless you and may God Bless America!

Hi everyone, I wanted to send some sort of holiday greeting to my friends and colleagues, but it is difficult in toda…y’s world to know exactly what to say without offending someone. So I met with my lawyer yesterday, and on advice I wish to say the following:

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral celebration of the summer solstice holiday practiced with the most enjoyable traditions of religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice with respect for the religious/ secular persuasions and / or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2013, but not without due respect for the calendar of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make our country great (not to imply that Australia is necessarily greater than any other country and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference/orientation of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms: This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/him or others and is void were prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. The wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.

Best Regards (without prejudice),

Name withheld (Privacy Act)

I just have to pick his brains and legal mind to come up with a contract, for movie goers or visitors of restaurants, so people without kids can enjoy themself’s without also having to be thrown into the job of being parents. Parents to someone elses kids because they ( the parents of said kids) refuse to consider my ability to pursue my happiness, within a mood environment of my choosing. An environment that both parties are equally paying for. Not to have in a way, the kind of attitude of removing the parents, or the non-parents from their own pursuit of their happiness of their choosing. But an opportunity to creat mutual respect of each of our own pursuits in being equal to each other. Who knows what will come of it?

Best regards without prejudice.

All the best in this new year.

Food of the God’s


I’m not trying to be sack-religious here with the title of this post. But thinking back to when there was a simpler time in your life. Allow the mind to wonder some. Okay not everyone has one of those times in their back pocket, or their back corner of their brains worth of memories. Of course, all matters is where you keep your memories I suppose? You can barrow mine then, by coming along for the ride. In the time that it will take you to read this post you may just remember a time….. Or perhaps…. multiple times in your life as well!

My mom used to talk about my grandmother as if she was right there in the room. She would recall an event and then act the time out right in front of me, as if her live show were a movie. But then my mom was smart. She probably did that to keep my attention, over that of just making an excuse to watch TV. Either way, the stories my mom’s would be acting, put a smile on my face and a fantasy within my mind of my grandmother, who had only traveled to the states once in my life when I was 4-years-old or so. Do to her untimely passing away I never had the honor of firsthand experiences with hearing these stories straight from the horse’s mouth so to speak.

This time Mom was explaining to me how to make homemade jam just a grandma did. I however was distracted with the thought of jam. Who doesn’t like a good piece of bread toasted, smeared with some melted butter and then a slathering of fresh strawberry jam. The thought makes my mouth water as I’m writing it down. Hay it is your memory mixed with mine at this point, so make it whatever kind of jam your taste buds are craving. For me strawberry tastes like the fresh berries, even in winter, just as fresh then as it does when Mom and I were picking them at the Barry farmers field. Picking berries was more like eating them till I couldn’t eat another one before I stated to pick them to place in my bucket. (Just a thought as an adult right here….. do you…… well… think that was stealing berries? Just a thought so I had to ask.)

Mom was doing the job of making jam as she was explaining the process to me. I was helping her when I could, but for the most part I was glued to watching the show. Perhaps it was because I wanted some jam, or I knew that after mom was done I could then scrape out the pots and eat warm jam. Getting the true sugar high, all with an okay from mom instead the look of those almost famous semi-scolding words, “Not before dinner!”

With an cacophony of exploding sounds, I was snapped out of my day-dream of eating warm jam. To see my mom pouring fresh strawberry’s into the blender, which pitched different sounds of various degrees of noise. What ever my Mom was saying before hand was just background noise, now disturbed. Mom glanced back to me, seeing me now holding my hands over my ears, an effort to silence the strange noises. With a smile, she again poured more berries into the blender.

Once the blending was done. She once again started her acting and explaining. “Now you take the blended strawberries, measure the amount you need and poured into the pot on the stove. Then you take the sugar that you pre-measured, and poured that into the pot.” Again glancing back to me, checking to see if I was still there. Knowing a habit of mine was if I was bored ,to then just leave finding something more interesting for myself. But that idea of warm jam kept me glued in spot. I thought you never know….

“Would you like to stir the berries till it is ready to jar it up?” Mom asked with a warm smile, all the while thinking some moves ahead in the process. Entertaining me, as well getting some help making her job easier. Who knows, she might of thought that she was teaching me something of value in how to save some money in the future. But what she was teaching me was more like a priceless gift, I just hadn’t come to realize it yet.

“Sure!” I exclaimed, as I sprung to my feet and half-ways ran the short distance to my mom and stove. With the aid of a step stool, my height matched the height needed to stir the sugary berries.

Mom showed me just how and how fast to stir them. “No splashing, please. Just like this…” She said with a calm voice, while demonstrating the stirring motions by guiding my hand with hers. When she had the reassurance of confidence in my ability’s to follow instructions she prepared the jars, and lids, for the next step.

Once the mixture of sugar and smashed up berries came up in temp just to the point of being warm, mom took the sure-jell out of the box, and poured it into the pot of berries. allowing me to also mix it in with more stirring. Soon the mixture was boiling and the temp could be turned down a bit, so not to burn the jam. Mom lined up the jars, and lids, in an assembly line. At the proper moment, determined only by her wisdom and view of how thick the mixture was, she instructed me to move away from the stove. “Just give some room to work the hot berries into the jars please.”

My eyes widened as she poured the jam into each jar. I knew that with each jar filled I was one closer to licking the spoon and getting to the left overs in the bottom of the pot. Of course, there was never the amount of left overs in the pot that my mind thought I should be able to eat. But something was better than nothing.

Once the pot was cool enough mom handed over to me the spoon and the okay. I of course dove into the opportunity like a trained dog. Only waiting long enough to hear the commands, then diving into it without being able to be distracted by anything, or any one.

As I twisted the last of the lids onto my jars of jam, and placed them into the pressure cooker to seal them, my memories of cooking jam with mom gave me an ear to ear smile. Mom never gave me any recipe for her jams. But would often encourage me to experiment with new ideas. Over the years I tried to live up to those instructions. Making apricot walnut jam, tangerine, strawberry basil, onion garlic, just to name a few of the exotic ones.

The best is…. when you take a piece of bread out, smear some peanut butter on it, then get another one and repeat, then get some jam of your choice out,  spreading it thick on one side. Thick of course, it is a must! Then marry the two pieces into one sandwich. Lick your chops once, then taking a big bite. I mean big bite! So that you get that jam and peanut butter stuck to the side of your face. AW, how can that not be the food of the God’s?

It is easy to make, even a child can make it for themselves. It gives the sense of independence, self-created enjoyment, teaches the importance to work today for tomorrows subsistence, as well gives you some of the best memories for the rest of your life. All of that with just one big bite. No surprise then that the peanut butter and jelly/jam sandwich is the number one sandwich made in the country. I’ll bet some 50% or greater of those sandwiches are made by kids. It is just a shame, that so few kids now days are not being taught the lost art of “Jam making”.

What I used to look at being a kid, as just stupid work to be done. I now look at it as work of enjoyment, which I rather do. Isn’t that the job of good parenting, teach the next generation how to take care of themselves? All the while promoting an attitude of positive human potential, finding and expanding individual talents, most of all promoting mind healing positive memories. All this wrapped up in each peanut butter and jelly or jam sandwich, enjoyed at any age. So how could it not be the food of the God’s?

The non-existent nature.


Tim swung his 22 rifle over his shoulder copying his father, as they went out to check for trapped calf’s. Tim tried to keep pace, using almost a stride and a half to the one normal stride of his fathers. Living out on the farm was a nice break from the normal day-to-day of the concrete jungle. It was a slower pace, a less stressful existence. But most of all it was full of new experiences, different each day. Stacking hay, driving a tractor while plowing a field. Helping milking cows, riding horses. All of which made work seem less so. Learning to spend time with dad was a plus as well. Having him around to teach just how to shoot a gun, and getting to know him, even if it was spending time while working with him. Was better than watching him leave for work, as the door closes behind him. Never quite knowing if or when he would return. Yes life on the farm was different, harder at times, yet better in a strange way for Tim.

Tim struggled in keeping up, almost passing right by dad, before stopping suddenly. Looking around Tim couldn’t make out just what his father was doing.

” What? What is it dad?”

” Quiet! Can you hear that?” Dad responded. Holding one finger to his mouth.

Tim cocked his head to one side to lessen. Off in the distance he heard some mooing of a cow. ” Is that the sound of a cow in trouble?” Asked Tim quietly. not quite knowing what he should be listening for.

” No. Well I don’t think so.” Father answered. Frowning and scratching his chin a bit in trying to decide what he was hearing. ” It could be just some talking that cows do. But then again it could be that they have seen us, or smelled us and are giving out some warnings.” He crouched down and started to walk toward the mooing. ” Follow me but do as I do. Being quiet as possible. Okay Tim?”

” Shure thing dad.” Tim answered. Copying every move of his dad.

Moving to the top of a small hill on the edge of the forest. Tim’s dad pointed out just what they heard. A cow giving a warning to two little calf’s. The calf’s just kept on playing. A play wrestling of sorts. Trying to push against one another, then chasing each other around and around. Mother cow was all to keen to what was close by. She smelled Tim and his father before they got close to see them. But now she was looking at them. She knew exactly where they were. She was calling out to her calf’s with her mooing.

” Hay dad! Why don’t those calf’s listen to their mother?”

Tim’s father remembered the squabble of Tim and his mother this morning. Tim wasn’t listening to what she wanted Tim to do. ” well… What do you think mother cow is trying to say to her kids?” Tim’s father was looking at Tim and searching his facial expressions. Looking for Tim’s reactions, to see if he was seeing the similarity to his early experiences with his mother.

” Well she is seeing some danger. So she is telling her calf’s to look out or come over here.” Tim brain was only thinking thoughts of the cows, and what they were doing.

” So why don’t the little calf’s seem to see the same thing their mother is seeing?” Father was pressing Tim to think and make the connections to earlier.

” Well that easy. Mother knows more, she is smarter than those little guy’s. ” Tim answered. Glancing over to his father. ” Don’t you think so?”

” You may be on to something son.”

” Dad! If the calf’s don’t listen to mother couldn’t they get killed or eaten by something? I mean we are their friends and they seem not to be afraid. But how do they know that?” Tim was thinking through some of the dangers he could see in his young mind, as some of the many possibility’s. Before dad could answer Tim went on. So Dad paused cutting off what he was about to spit out of his mouth for a reply letting Tim continue.

” Mom’s are real smart and they know the difference between dangers. Those little calf’s should pay attention. That’s what’s wrong! Mom is trying to teach them survival. Right?”

Tim’s dad reached out and touched his son on the shoulder softly. ” Son. Why didn’t you listen to your mother this morning then?” He looked into his sons face knowing that he got it. But how would he react to hearing it from his dad. Or was he really listening to what he already concluded in his own thoughts?

Tim lowered his gaze. ” I know dad.” A small sheepish voice answered. ” I should have listened to mom. Just like the cows she knows all the dangers.”

Tim’s dad lifted his son’s head with a gentil motion of his strong hand. Then said. ” You see you can learn something from stupid cows.” As he let out a little laugh. ” How about following these cows lead. Listen to your mother, she knows best!”

Tim knew he should make better choices. Just like what mom cow was trying to teach those calf’s, Tim’s mom was trying to teach him just like that, so he had to do better with his mother as well. After all mom and dad had the same job to do. Raise up their young, safe from all the dangers in life. The ones that Tim and those calf’s couldn’t recognize for themself’s just yet.

Sounded by the concrete jungle people and kids alike do not always get the same opportunity’s to see nature as it works. With out the ability’s to see cows trying to teach lessens to their calf’s. Lessens learned through work and good habits built through seeing nature, and how natures creatures react to problems in life. Often not all that different then people’s, and how they choose to react to problems. Without the ability’s to see this in action, live in nature, who would know then or even make the connection, while what seem like watching silly animals from a distance. Is a true learning experience.

People in general live in an unnatural state of being. What would be common place in nature as seeing wrong or right. Is just too much for the most part common place to a city dwellers life. Not necessarily see the same things in normal every day occurrences. Parents are hardly ever around. When they are, kids are trying to escape their rules or escape life, through video games, the internet, TV, or countless other mindless distractions. Where is that taking place in nature?

observing in our entertainments young minds will see more, murders, rapes, muggings, theft, vandalism, disrespect of people and their belongings, as common place. Along with spending countless hours alone at home free from parental supervision, free from house rules or guidance of parents who could in force some house rules. This leaves kids to create a un-natural reality of the world and how it works. Expectations slowly eroding away, wrong and right melting into puddles of undistinguishable differences.

It is no surprise that people have less of a call to service when they see someone assaulting another. Less of a willingness to step up and help a stranger in need. More likely to fall prey, being paralyzed as what to do in a time of an emergency. An explosion in the populations mind-set with less of a sence of self-reliance, self-help, net alone helping others in the same situation, or even charity freely given. Charity for the most part is thought of as giving of money. Never really considered as giving of time to something, or someone else then self. Without any expectations for some kind of return.

Human reasoning within their minds have been increased to becoming numb, only seeing distortions to normal right vs wrong. For the most part the battle within every persons thoughts in choosing for themself’s never really crosses their minds, or is even asked of themself’s. So the actions of how people are treating people these days have become unnaturally cold.

Almost every problem in modern society has been magnified in the concrete jungle / the city’s, as common place. Yet these same problems exist every where that humans live, it is to a lesser degree experienced in those community’s that have easy access to observing nature in a natural setting. Even though farms and the animals on them aren’t wild animals in their natural state. These animals have at times better answers to problems then humans in the city’s do. There is a lesson to be learned, in caring for as well as living off the land. Lessens that may go with us, from our youth into adulthood. Lessens that are in short supply in the city’s, and unpopular with government.

Almost every job on the farm is for survival of the farmer and his family, as well as other people he doesn’t even know in his country / world. It is there for an up lifting experience. Fostering an attitude of charity, and giving, standing for right against wrong. Recognising that there is a higher power in this struggle for life and it isn’t called ( Bigger government! ) Just some of the missing elements of modern life in the city’s. Echoed throughout the concrete jungles, drownded out from the hum of modern machinery. Where the non-existent nature lives.

All the best.

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Aw! Vacation or time for some personal development?


Aw. Vacation! Is forever too short of time off, from everything, with in our normal routine. Time seems to speeds up at the very moment we take some time off from work. Just to mock us in addition to the mind games we already play on ourself’s. Take the day off from work, presto the 8 hours spent at work will be gone in what seem like a flash. No surprise then, that we fool ourself’s in thinking thoughts of vacation, within some perceived stress free zone called the get-a-way. Would this be living life perfectly? Vacations are indeed fun! Do not ever underestimate them in the least. But don’t allow them to distract, and deceive you into some shallow thought. Getting you to believe in some fantasy world of the unrealistic day-dreams. Aren’t vacations, times off, a short get-a-way, and yes even R-n-R, just descriptions of some fantasy within our minds? Waiting to be made into memories of our reality’s, some life’s experiences we hope to live out. How many times do they live up to the high standards of our day-dreams, of what it will be certainly be like when we get there? Going to some tropical place only to find a hurricane barring down. Dishing torrential rains on what started some months ago as some sunny thoughts. With toes in the sand, a drink in our hand, unlimited fun in the sun, compleat R-n-R. Aw! The Vacation! Or time for some personal development?

With vacations we don’t have many deadlines, as we do with work. In fact we have thrown them out the window! No bosses telling us that. ” There is someone else that wouldn’t mind doing our jobs if we don’t. ” A way to reduce the bosses need to read the new book of ” Modern slaves! The bosses hand-book of lies, to evade having to give out raises, or time off.” No unhappy clients wondering why their orders are being held up in customs. Why not some other poor sap’s orders? No phones to answer, no product to move, no lies to tell in trying to excuse yourself from working any more overtime. No! Not any one of these stresses to haunt you, while your out on vacation. But believing that there isn’t any stress to deal with while on vacation? Is just a fantasy of those who never have gone on vacation before.

What can go wrong, will often go wrong! The journey is the destination. The unknown world of vacation is only half of the trip. Usually half of your time off as well.

Well I have two tickets to paradise, minus the pearly gates and some guy called Saint Peter, for the low, low price of half off. The exchange rate of some completely stress free permanent vacation. Presented as the deal of the century. But the thrill of death is just some what short of what our fantasy are telling us, just what it will be like to be on permanent vacation. My ideas of vacation as I’m shure your’s is. Would be more like the above ground type! Welcome to the completely wrong mind-set, of the unrealistic vacationers universe, the ones that we call a short get-a-way vacation. Created by fantasy alone. Setting realistic expectations is the first step in truly getting the most R-n-R in the shortest time frame. Forgetting this, is just filling a ten gallon hat with twenty gallons of bull crap.

It doesn’t matter if we are to use airplanes, trains, or automobiles, acting as our transporter device. Thinking back to your last vacation, and dealing with all of the above. Thank God! That some pimply face teenager hasn’t invented time travel yet. Everything that can and will go wrong with airplanes, trains, and automobiles, the ones that you’ve already experienced. Doesn’t need to be magnified into reality within time traveling vacations. No need to re-live those problems or add any new problems to the long list of them already running. Who wants to throw into the mix of things time travel, in getting you to your vacation? If you ever had jet lag? You’ve experienced time travel to a small degree. Just a few hours worth. Now think about a few years worth! Let your imagination run wild for just a bit with that one. Aint that a bitch!

Just think of the TSA agent in charge of running the time machine security screening. You would have to go through practically in the nude. People can not bring some kind of weapons of the future into the past. You know? TNT, AK-47’s, underwear bombs… and some such. Running the time machines time dialer is a nother. Everything is on touch screens. Even the instructions on how to do it. The words of ” How to do it,” doesn’t mean free porn! Pay per view, or other wise. Picking a time and place? Examining the many possibility’s and charges to go along with it all.  Choices on top of choices. Are you feeling the stress? Extra charges and advanced pricing according to time zones and year zones traveled. Check the appropriate boxes; indicating that you have read the governments instructions on payment methods, taxes, and restrictions. Understand them is always optional. Checking the boxes; indicating that you have read the disclosure statements and understand them…? Excepting all and any risks….? Even the small print. The small print that says…? Check the box if you agree? Example: If you travel on the 29 of February, and you’re looking to be out on vacation for a year. Will you have to come back on the next February, 29th? So is that one years worth of chargeable vacation, or a forced additional 3 years worth because it would be leap year? Extra charges and taxes are going to be what? Reading the small print we find. These charges may be disputed or waved only in the event of penguin stampede in Phoenix Arizona in August at noon most days! Exceptions may apply, or be changed without notice. Your hearing from behind you. ” Just check the boxes a bit faster. My vacation time is running out here!” Putting away your magnifying glass. Your thinking by now. “But that is more like wining a lottery of sorts.” If the time traveler device is invented to extend even more options to the vacationers planing universe. The future is going to suck! Longer lines and even slower readers of the old, who have yet to catch up to the technology of the day.

So using airplanes, or trains, or cars to get to the distinctions we dream about. Still has familiar, yet different problems to it, then the ones with time travel. But still applying the same stresses all the same. Air travel is just a suitcase full of stress. First you have to take off your shoes, exposing your holy socks. While waiting in a really long, slow-moving line. Going to the bathroom will only have you starting at the back of the line once again. So you hold it! If possible? Mind over matter…. Now you’re wondering, why you had that extra cup of coffee to keep you awake. Trying not to pee your pants, is doing the job of keeping you awake, just the same as all that caffeen. Who knows maybe even better than the caffeen! Don’t worry! Be happy! Your going on vacation!

Arriving at the TSA agents station, you empty your pockets, send your shoes through the bomb detecting ex-ray machine, and prepare for your molestation. Standing like a flash’er, the TSA agent explains he or she is fully trained to detect underwear bombs of all types. While feeling you up with that sick kind of smile. Just unnerving! So this is vacation? No surprise that so much alcohol is served in flight. Of course the alcohol is the number one reason for making you feel stupid that your luggage went to tim-buck-two and you are standing in customer no service, wondering just where in the heck is, time-buck-two? Listening to a pre-recorded voice of a bad accented customer service agent in tim-buck-two explaining in a mary-go-round fashion. Telling you! That they are actively trying to work out some glitches to the system. Your blood pressure is going through the roof, and that background music ( The song; Don’t worry, Be happy! ) Is the newest source of stress. But then finely, in your hurry to get the hell out of the airport. Fully frustrated! Just running from the fears and memories of the TSA agent. Grabbing the wrong suitcase identically to yours. That they conveniently found in the back room and presented as your’s. May in all hurry get you to the vacation destination, fun in the sun, rest and relaxation. Indeed all of these experiences have put you on the beach, with a thong bathing suit, you didn’t pack for your vacation, two sizes to small.

Air travel seem to get you there in record speed. But in all reality, air travel is nothing more than a faster pace shoveling of stress from one sea-shore to another.

Driving is good way to go? But then driving always made me tired. Driving for 10 hours a day, for days on end to get across the country. Seem too much like work. That’s just the beginning of vacation. You will have to repeat this posses to get back home. After all of the hours trapped in a small box full of what seem like family, but interacts with you more like complete strangers. Conversations of repeating catch phrases ” Are we there yet? I have to go to the bathroom! I’m sick… have to throw-up… never mind! ” Not to mention the gas from that last mexican fast food pit stop. Is just some of the fun of traveling by car. Swearing after wrong turns, or at the navigator for misleading the adventure. While flipping-off other drivers, after getting cut off. Is that, the kind of examples you want to teach your kids, your impression of what fun is? Driving doesn’t alow for a good stiff drink to calm nerves. But is more of a caffeen over dose, shooting your nerves totally to hell. Just to keep you awake for a few more miles, all to stay on schedule. Sounds like vacation, a short get away, some rest and relaxation… success? Or a stress filled exhaustion, on the high-way to an early heart attack?

Do we ever slow down? Why must we feel the need of doing the unimportant twice as fast? We never seem to work on relaxing, the reason for the vacation in the first place.

We should take some time to work on our own lives, making the  improvements to our abilities to take on the world when we return to it. Relaxation techniques would help? Working to improve our own values, within work, home fiance, home, family, working relationships…. and so on. The personal side of working on ourself’s. No one has to know just what we are working on. Yet takeing some time to ourself’s in order to accomplish addressing these within ourself’s, is far more relaxing. There is no dead-lines to this kind of self examinations, while on vacation. This has a better chance in leading to more relaxed times, as well as getting into some new kinds of chill-ax-en when at home. As you can see there is no need to run here, and then there, and then.. “Oh God we are late for the bus tour, swimming class, sight-seeing “, blah, blah, blah…. and so on. Can you feel the stress. No real need to get stressed out, while on vacation trying to enjoy what ever our dreams say vacations should be….? If you’re trying to relieve yourself from the memories of stress from everyday life why pack-up all that stress to bring along while on vacation? No real need to live life shaken, when stirred is just fine in mixing it up a bit.

Really! Vacations aren’t that bad. But if vacations are filled with all that stress while on them. You could always just go to the airport, getting felt up by the TSA, and then call it good. At least that stress would feel like it is truly being left in the past, on your way out of the airport again.

Just relax…. chill…. life is truly good. Making some improvements to yourself’s will make the time in-between vacations feel somewhat more stress relived. The experiences on vacation more memorable, life while waiting for your next vacation more tolerable. Aw! The vacation, or time for some personal development? Dream on!

All the best.

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