Mississippi: It feels like home

Or so says the sign as you enter the state travelling west on I-20. I'm not sure that one night of residence is really enough to determine whether or not it does "feel like home." Truthfully, I'm just looking forward to resting for a bit. While it is difficult to tell how busy I have actually been by reading this, it is safe to say that as hectic as my schedule has been over the past two months, so has little been written on this space. (Those pointing to the four year hiatus are noted. The point I am making is entirely unrelated.)

As best as I can tell, I now live in a place that is a geographical wonder of sorts. At first glance, there are very few direct routes to most places you would want to go. (I have learned that is, in fact, NOT the case; but the "first glance" part is definitely true.) I am now a good 2 hours from any city I have heard of growing up. I feel not unlike Ulysses Everett McGill when trying to find some Dapper Dan and learning that all shipments take "about 3 days" to arrive.

My personal odyssey is much less entertaining than his, and I am more simply the man of constant than sorrow. Hence, the choice of the magnolia at the top as a sort of self-recognizing, calming "welcome home." May Mississippi be as fraught with grace and opportunity as it is with double consonants.

“To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi” - William Faulkner

Time for a post about nothing...or maybe everything

I watched High School Musical 2 last night. I figure this can be viewed in 1 of 2 ways, taking into account that I have no children. One: as my wife put it upon learning of my television choice, "I'm sorry." I believe she meant it in a way to suggest that there really must not have been a better option at the time. Truthfully, I watched parts of Tiger Woods' incredible 2nd round in the U.S. Open during parts of the movie. I would superficially sum up this point of view as "why on Earth would you choose to watch that?" Two: as I watched the dozens of videos that had been sent in by children all over the U.S. portraying their individually choreographed and designed music videos using the soundtrack from High School Musical 2, I realized that another significant segment of the population would be just as surprised that I HADN'T already seen it. Amazing the breadth of interests in this country. What a place to live.

Applying one of the themes of High School Musical 2 (my new most favoritest movie until "Rock Camp" with the Jonas Brothers debuts, or so suggested Disney's thematic marketing) to this very blog, I realized that knowing who you are and finding comfort in that is one of the greatest blessings God can give you. One of the reasons this blog has yet been published on a schedule not unlike that of the summer Olympics is because it was originally intended to be only an offshoot of only a segment of my personality. It was something I needed to get out, but I don't think I really wanted to share it, at least not in the context of all things me. So, much like Troy Bolton discovers the rewards of self-awareness, I think this blog will turn into perhaps the greatest hodgepodge of postings I have witnessed on a single blog. Maybe it won't, but I can guarantee you that the me of four years ago would never have even entertained the idea to open the realm of posting possibility to all things my thoughts consume.

And just to prove it, here goes: can anyone else believe that Vanessa Hudgens of Gabriella-fame was in the movie Thirteen? Granted, she played the normal, old best friend of the corruptible main character, and not hell on Earth-child Evie Zamora, but still...Thirteen? I can't believe Disney was down with that.

Next thought: I really need to learn how to make links and insert pictures and stuff. This is going to be one really boring blog without them. (I did just learn how to do italics, though. Baby steps, people.)

Play-all-the-time kid
Student.....forever....but now
Doctor and husband

Haikus rule.

4 years = 1 hell of a hiatus

Truthfully, I had forgotten all about this little tesseract of internet. I am proud to reclaim it.

For those here from the beginning (Pete) to those who might now be visiting (Stranges, perhaps?) I welcome you all. To those in MS, I welcome y'all. Much has changed in 4 years, but these truths shall become self evident.

"As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters."
- Seneca

It is my hope that both my blog and my life will be able to be referenced by that quote.


Today's post is entitled, "Let's liven up the place a little"

A weary soul four years ago
has now been washed away
Life's therapy: a shock or ten
then laughs around dismay

Four moves for moreso work
than play: priorities, you see
Poems and journals hidden then
from everyone but me

Life's ups and downs, in them, contained
and there so shall they stay
Trust me, not even I
would enjoy reading them today.

"Whoop! Aghast! Exclaim!" he thought
(his words avoiding sense)
All emotion's posts reside now at
my old/new blog, from whence

I shall triumphantly return,
and, while being mindful of the past,
Try to kick the dust off my blog's tires
and also a little ass.

One Nation Under Surveillance

The dawning of a new America
is spoken of by many
promised by few
and realized by seemingly only those whose job it is to figure the statistics

the 2.1 million here
the 150,000 there
the top 1% of 200,000 with 5,000 each that was set aside and returned and recouped and renegged and....relived....
every four years....

or less
if you pay attention
to the diversely representative upper middle class minority that is the media today
or at least the face of the media today

because seeing is believing and a picture is worth a thousand words
and you can make a difference and in order to form a more perfect union
you need to vote....
especially if you're in Florida, or Ohio, or Missouri, or New Mexico

or if you help make up the sea of domestic tranquility that is Medicare and MTV
or if you support the troops and hate the war
or if you support the war and hate the enemy
or if you support the notion that hate is the enemy
or if you think it's more than just terror that's domestic
for the first time

Franklin looked and saw a rising sun on the back of a stationary chair
at the dawning of our country
the dawning of a new America
I wonder if that was before or after he invented bifocals.
And I wonder what he would say now

as people would bludgeon him with questions
about his faith or lack thereof
and his love for the French
and how could you dare say that BEER is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy?
besides we all know Thomas Edison invented electricity anyway

we learned all about it in our reformed schools
with waivers, or not
and new computers
and without the children who were left behind
and with the children that weren't
from our state-funded, federally-managed, government-tested somehow logically-defying internationally inferior school system

but is that really what's important?
I know the kids can pick out a picture of Bin Laden.
that's what really matters
next to money of course,
Just ask the teachers.

The dawning of a new America is again upon us
thank God we treasure our wisdom now
and we respect our elders
and we follow our minds, we follow our hearts,
and we balance both with the utmost discretion

Right?

May the sunset be brief this time.
Come dawning, come.

Anybody ever wonder what the other half of the battle was?

 
I think the less I say about this one the better.  Here's to the realization that sometimes life can be a little too real, and you may not even know it when it happens.
 
 
I now know what it's like to see your dreams laid out in front of you
residing in the lives of others
 
I now know what it's like to see what you've wanted even when you didn't know yourself
exemplified by those around you
 
I now know what it's like to feel cheated by yourself
as others have overcome themselves
 
I now know what it's like to regret
when I never have before
 
Knowing sucks
 
At least for now

Top dollah with the gold plate collah, pimpin' up in Stillwatah....PTG

Snoop fans unite. Imitation IS the highest form of flattery, you know.

While my rendition of LBC's finest might not ring true in your heart, this next "collaborative" effort often rings true in mine. This is actually a recreation of a poem that one of my best friends wrote waaaay back in the day. The first few lines and the last line are his, but the rest is continually adapted to whatever mood and situation I find myself in that prompts me to remember the point of the entire endeavor. This is the latest adaptation. I apologize in advance for the cheese factor, offering only in my defense the statement that sometimes there's power in cheese. Just ask Wisconsin.


I have a friend named Harry
who stands facing the wall.
Harry sees what Harry sees,
and Harry sees it all.

Harry sees but doesn't see
his eyes faced right ahead
Harry hears what Harry sees
his ears, his eyes, instead.

Harry knows what Harry knows;
it's us that tell him so.
Harry's back is to the world
in front...nowhere to go.

So Harry is not blind
to each of our attacks...
the slings and arrows that we hurl
at him behind his back.

And Harry knows our hate is not
confined to simply him.
Harry sees us talking;
he knows who did what and when.

Harry sees the image of ourselves
that we betray
Since how we act does not always
match up with what we say.

Harry knows our hearts,
and where they truly lie
Harry sees us as the very
selves we can't defy.

Harry sees the overflow of truth
contained in speech.
Harry knows JUST what we say
at times, the worst, in each.

Harry sees our whispered words
can bring both joy and pain
And Harry knows that there are times
at which we will refrain

And Harry knows that other times
we let loose our mind and tongue
Our senses do not tell us though
exactly who we're among.

Harry sees us both in our
best and worst of times.
Harry even hears our silly poems
filled up with rhymes.

So what would Harry tell us
were he to turn around?
Would he let us have it
for the hate that we impound?

While I can't be exactly certain
as I have not come out and asked
I think Harry would tell us
that the feelings that we mask

Perhaps should simply stay within
should they even exist at all
For any thought expressed aloud
is heard by at least the wall

And Harry, as you might have guessed
has the patience of a saint
Compassion is his to spare and share
with those victims of complaint

Which Harry tells me is much more
than just the others we discuss
Harry tells me that the subject,
at times, turns to each of us.

Harry goes on further to
suggest a simple plan.
Being "careful" just is not enough
It takes kindness to be a man.


If you can see with your ears, you can listen with your heart. Thanks, PTG.

To Brandon India, wherever you may now be.

This is a tribute to all the families facing the death of a loved one and all the people facing those families. May you all have lived life to its fullest and take solace, in at the very least, that fact alone.


Watching waywardly as time approaches
means life is passing you by.

One dives head-first as one indulges
without the question of why.

Only later does the wind throw back your caution
into your now realistic face.

The drones of life come calling
when life then slows its pace.

The moments are few and far among
when freedom and circumstance meet.

When cares far away have been flung
and responsibility seems to retreat.

Grasp strongly such times in gentle hands
the nexus that harmony wrought.

For life that's lived often itself demands
much more than just what we've sought.