Email from a dear friend in the field of bluegrass music:
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Author Archives: treetrunkrick
Say goodnight gracefully
Is that my Epipen or Livescribe Pulse/Echo?
Every theory that I test always falls back to this position: is there anything that contradicts the fact this body is a set of states of energy in constant flux?
All the other details fade in comparison.
For instance, I found a 4GB flash drive on my desk this evening, completely unaware of its contents until I plugged it into this notebook PC. On the flash drive are subfolders labeled GE184, IT104, IT250, IT302, TB133 and TB143 under the main folder labeled ITT, all of them from the year 2009.
There’s also a file labeled “Lesson Plan Outline – Twenty Minute Segments – Spring 2009.xls” for IT104 – Introduction to Computer Programming.
Is it coincidence that I read an online article about professors and students this afternoon which led me to think about my teaching days at ITT and then to discover the flash drive in the pile of junk on my desk later today?
We make our own coincidences, do we not?
Ever since I got married in 1986, I kept the promise to stay physically devoted to my wife, putting aside the thoughts that once led me to pursue women.
Sure, temptations are there everyday when I see people of all shapes and sizes, their sights and smells capturing my attention like Seirênes on strange shores.
I do not take lovers anymore. Instead, I convert my amorous feelings into short stories and poems, inspiration for dreams of life on Mars and other celestial bodies.
I’m getting older, if I’ve ever been young, yet I’m always a kid at heart.
Falling in love over and over, day after day, takes its toll on this little old kid.
To spend one second holding the hand of another on the dance floor is an eternity of feelings — happiness, joy, trust — moments I barely remember from my younger days.
Next week I will compete in one dance with my wife, then my wife and I will compete separately with Abi and Stephane in a different dance.
How do I dance with someone as beautiful and graceful as Abi without falling in love with her?
How do I feel about competing against my wife, so to speak, in the PROAM OPEN NEWCOMER SWING MALE/FEMALE divisions?
How does this affect my belief in the theory that I am alone in the universe which is here solely for my entertainment?
Whenever I feel myself attracted to another person, I revert to generalising and stretching my practical self into expounding about universal theories in order to protect myself from becoming a blathering idiot and making a fool of myself.
It’s no coincidence that the Echo and Pulse pens on my desk are not Epipens because, unlike my father, I have no deathly allergic reactions to protect myself against.
I have been a solo artist for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to dance with another person as one.
What I have remembered is that the dance partner is the one toward whom I give my fullest attention, all barriers dropped temporarily, whilst we give ourselves over to the lord of the dance:
Lord Of The Dance
I danced in the morning when the world was young
I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun
I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth
At Bethlehem I had my birth
I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun
I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth
At Bethlehem I had my birth
Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he
I danced for the scribes and the Pharisees
They wouldn’t dance, they wouldn’t follow me
I danced for the fishermen James and John
They came with me so the dance went on
Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he
I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame
The holy people said it was a shame
They ripped, they stripped, they hung me high
Left me there on the cross to die
Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he
I danced on a Friday when the world turned black
It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back
They buried my body, they thought I was gone
But I am the dance, and the dance goes on
Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that will never, never die
I’ll live in you if you’ll live in me
I am the Lord of the dance, said he
Dance, dance, wherever you may be
I am the lord of the dance, said he
And I lead you all, wherever you may be
And I lead you all in the dance, said he
Tweet from jimmy fallon (@jimmyfallon)
jimmy fallon (@jimmyfallon) tweeted at 5:59 PM on Fri, Jul 12, 2013:
Thank you, zoos, for making me imagine animals looking at each other and going, “What are you in for?” #ThankYouNoteFriday
(https://twitter.com/jimmyfallon/status/355823829651693568)
Get the official Twitter app at https://twitter.com/download
See food different, Lee
Thx to hostess, Nevel, Byran, Letesha and kitchen at Red Lobster.
Love is academic
Many a former lover once told me that, although my love and devotion was incomparable, I was susceptible to falling in love with everyone I meet.
Thus it is so.
And probably always will be, considering how internally perfect every one of us tends to be, being ourselves in our particular peculiarities, and perpetually attractive to me.
My three semesters as a post-secondary school instructor taught me that I need not teach because it’s difficult to assign low/poor grades to my wonderfully unique students.
However, unlike the characters in these reviewed books, I never consummated my love for students in those three short school cycles.
The unintended influence of pop culture
Especially the cinema.
I never imagined that our nieces would choose names for their children that easily reflect popular movie actors.
The first niece in our family to have a child named her daughter “Shannon Elizabeth.”
The second niece in our family to have a child plans to name her son “Owen Luke.”
Curiously strong resemblances, n’est pas?
Arbitrary news
Hey, guess what! According to an automated message I was told, “You published your 2100th post on this blog”.
But not at 2100 hours.
BTW, there are 13447 days to go…not much longer until we get that Mars colony set up, eh?
Liken likin’ lichen like in lye kin
Our mailbox at the street resembles a small wooden house, a look similar to our main house.
On the “chimney” of the mailbox house grows a small patch of lichen.
Do you like lichen the way I do?
Lichen falls onto our driveway almost everyday, attached to bits of tree — twig, branch, bark — that break away and follows gravity’s path onto the concrete surface.
One species of beard lichen in particular, but not this one.
As our climate gradually warms, lichen is migrating north, bringing symbiotic organisms along.
As with the variety of tree species in our yard, we have a multitude of lichen species.
Same with mushrooms, algae, bacteria, ants and other organisms I won’t encounter together on Mars.
What will migrate with us when we live off-Earth?
What will survive without us and adapt to new environmental conditions?
How many organisms on Earth didn’t originate on our planet?
I owe our next-door neighbours a copy of books on trees and edible wild plants so they can identify which plants not to kill in their yard to protect their curious one-year old child from eating less-than-nutritious green stuff.
I see the Trees book in front of me, under a pile of “French Idioms,” “Russian for Everyday,” “The New College French & English Dictionary,” “Peterson Field Guides to Stars and Planets,” “The Associated Press Stylebook and Libel Manual,” “2004 Far Side Desk Calendar,” and “The Yale Book of Quotations;” on top of “Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid,” “RE/SEARCH #8/9: J.G. Ballard,” “The Complete Cartoons of The New Yorker,” and a spiral-bound copy of my book, “The Mind’s Aye,” not to forget issue #500 of MAD magazine.
Speaking of books, I have a few to finish reading, including “The Big Questions” by Steven Landsburg and a hyperreality book, “Travels in Hyperreality,” by Umberto Eco.
I wonder, which set of beliefs, particularly in the realm of religion, makes one more likely to approve of government/private industry spying? In Christianity, God is always watching, just like Santa Claus, ready to mete out rewards and punishment for our behaviours/thoughts.
Does our general culture encourage us to believe in seeking our fifteen minutes of fame, even if it’s only on a hidden security camera or set of IM chat logs?
Does lichen care about our meme-ridden upper brain functions or our labyrinthine specialty tasks and hobbies that spin out of a growing economy?
Likely not.
That’s why I like lichen — symbiosis that doesn’t require ritual or dogma.
Cultural scientists today argued their proof that silicon-based organisms such as computers are living beings.
I thank my living being for letting me write this blog entry on its plastic key skinned surface.
Enough meditative humour for the day — time to eat lunch and read a couple of books loaned by the public library.
Octoways
Eight-legged friend in motion.
Sad day today. I set out poison to kill some mice and killed a raccoon, instead. Death is death, though, isn’t it, regardless of intended victim?
Celebrate the sale if a lawn mower earlier today, why don’t I, which cleared space in the garage and lightened the load of this wandering vagabond.
treetrunkdings 