It’s Hip to be Square

I smell cat food on my fingers and popcorn on my breath.
I see squiggly lines in front of me and hear the heat pump hum.

How long does it take to recover from mourning the death of my father’s mind?

Minds do not exist, in the classic sense.

It’s a game of cat-and-mouse.

Dagger and cloak.

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer…

For whom the bell tolls.

My father served in the 4th Infantry, long before this 1970 report summarised lessons learned.

He is alive and yet not alive.

That is, he who was he is not he any longer.

Him who was is no more, but not nevermore.

‘Tis memories I relive in my current/future living.

There are memories to be made, observations to make, medical diagnoses to contemplate.

And/but yet.

Edgar Allan Poe went to West Point.  He died at 40 years of age.

Soon, I will be 50 years young, halfway to 100, where life starts all over again.

Like a paper folded in two.

Or a projectile at the top of its trajectory.

My father is one pathway of my life 27 years from now.

One way the past is the future all over again.

A paddled cruise down the Sipsey River, for instance — same places, new water, new trees, new wildlife.

Heard a barred owl in the woods behind the house this evening while Merlin (the cat) snoozed on my lap in the sunroom.

How many generations of owls and cats have passed in 50 years?

Or 77?

How many more in 100?

Trying Not To Impress Yourself

My family sorts out the news that the VA medical staff does not believe my father has ALS, bulbar option and, besides, he’s a “wanderer” who likes to roll a wheelchair up and down the hallways because he’s not being intellectually challenged on a constant basis anymore, which the staff is not prepared to handle; therefore, we expect the Mountain Home CLC is not a home for my father for very much longer.

Instead, the medical staff thinks my father’s dementia is related to a virus.

As to the dysphagia/aphasia, I don’t know their actioned thoughts on the matter.

I will work with my family to prepare the next phase of my father’s treated illnesses.

= = = = =

Meanwhile, the Committee is getting antsy, too.  Members have been wandering off on personal agendas and not sticking to the major plan.

Tempus fugit!  Only 13886 days to go.

One of the subcommittees reported to me last night in the middle of a swing dance.

On a side note, it doesn’t seem that many decades ago when those of us who worked in the government contracting business were told to keep our lips sealed because “Boris is listening,” implying that Soviet spies were hanging out in diners and bars, waiting for Americans to let slip secret information.

Now, many Russians are members of the subcommittees, sharing important data back-and-forth, equally, with their American counterparts.

It’s the eastern European, subSaharan African, and rogue Chinese populations that we keep a careful eye and ear upon.

Anyway, my two colleagues from Russia, Natasha and Nina (a chemist and physicist, respectively), showed up at the dance last night to discuss serious business.

It won’t be long now before we launch the next probe.

In that electromechanical space explorer we will secure our latest invention.

For years, alchemists thought the most precious product they could make was gold.

Not anymore.

Soon, water will be more precious than almost anything else.

That’s what Natasha and Nina reported to me last night.  They had perfected the low-energy creation of water using the latest in solar power generation material that reverses the processes of plant transpiration.

Do you know how hard it is to translate a conversation into dance moves?

Especially when you’re pretending to be a newby on the dance floor?

Thank goodness, it was one of the first training sessions that the Committee assembled millennia ago.

I have my childhood trainers to thank for their patience in using my unique dancing skills (or lack thereof) to convert thrashing around to the beats of pop music into codeable semaphore-like communication.

We wanted to celebrate last night but the timing wasn’t right.

Such is the life of the Reluctant Leader.

Always working, working, working, dedicating even his most private meditative moments into coordinating the next moves of our planetary life toward outward expansion.

You’ll be glad to know our efforts to reduce the population growth of our species on this planet are succeeding.

As much as I love all of us here, I need to remove some of our resources for daily living to use in other parts of the solar system, meaning I need to curtail our overzealous grab of raw materials for massive pop culture production and divert them to the Committee’s Special R&D Department for Life Reconfiguration, Deep Space Travel and Celestial Body Settlement, or SRDDLRDSTCBS, for short mnemonic purposes (better known as Sir Double-D Lard Stick Bus).

One day, my successor will take solar system resources for galactic exploration but you’ll find out more when the time is right.

I put many of our youth out of work for “The Man” in order to give you a more important assignment — be courteous to your elders and respect their requests to make our species the first one to say to the other species on this planet that we’re putting this former celestial home behind us.

Quit dawdling out there — let’s get to work and have fun in the process giving our descendants something truly worthwhile to call us their ancestors!!!

Meanwhile, on Finnish shores with Filipino shining faces…

What is home?

A question that haunts my memories when I remember the number of places I lived in my youth.

Is it Earth?

Is it any particular area of this planet?

How many people, of our current seven billion or so, are not particularly mobile, living on the same set of hectares their whole lives?

For the transients, the travelers, the modern-day jetsetters, how do the immobile appear?

Back to the world of OO programming, virtual buttons and computer code, where home is the thought set we call a mind (geography a secondary concern as long as creature comforts are met) and familiar, familial faces smile back in sympathy.

Inequality is what you make of the opportunities you have, not the ones you wish for, is it not?

 

Great News for Marching Band NASCAR Fans

Ever wonder what goes on behind the scenes before you hear the performer(s) sing/play the pregame song before your favourite sports activity?

Well, here’s a bit of info for those who will watch an upcoming NASCAR-affiliated race [courtesy of a marching band parent]:

Dear Parent(s) and Students:

Late yesterday afternoon I received a phone call from the Denny Hamlin Foundation requesting the Lancer Band’s help. For those who do not know, Denny Hamlin is a Manchester graduate (Class of ’99) and currently the driver for the Fed Ex #11 Joe Gibbs Racing NASCAR Sprint Cup Team. Each year prior to the NASCAR race at Richmond International Raceway (RIR), Denny hosts a celebrity charity race to benefit the Denny Hamlin Foundation that donates money to Cystic Fibrosis and other children’s charities.

Denny has asked the Marching Lancers to perform the National Anthem at RIR prior to his race and the Late Model Stock Car race held on Thursday, April 26.

Each Marching Lancer- brass, woodwind, percussion, guard, and twirler- is invited to participate.

This is quite an honor and Denny really wants it to be a hometown-feel type of event hence him asking for his high school band.

Thank you all for your support and patience! The people at RIR, the Denny Hamlin Foundation, and NASCAR, are extremely excited about the Marching Lancers performing Thursday night. We are the only high school in the country that will perform the National Anthem at a major NASCAR race this season. We are extremely honored!

Here are some important details:

…we will travel via school bus to RIR.
We will perform the Anthem twice.
6:55PM- Perform Anthem for Late Model Stock Car Race
8:25PM- Perform Anthem for Denny Hamlin Short Track Show Down

After the second Anthem performance we will move in to the stands to watch Denny race. We are his special guests for the evening.

Students need to bring a jacket/sweatshirt. We will Not change out of our pants.

Students MUST BRING EAR PLUGS to be worn during the Anthem (to counteract sound delay of PA system) and for the race. It will be painful without hearing protection. Regular foam earplugs will work fine. Students will not be allowed to wear headphones during the Anthem but can do so during the race.

Bring the earplugs for tomorrow’s rehearsal, too, so you can get use to wearing them while we play.

Bring money for dinner at the concession stand.

Have black socks, white gloves , and marching shoes.

bargain shopping

Today, my father sat in front of the desktop PC in the patient lounge of the Mountain Home VA CLC, spending nearly 1.5 hours trying to correctly spell the word “computer.”

That is an accomplishment worth mentioning and celebrating.

Not only that but he still remembers how to use a computer mouse with a scroll wheel and can move cards in a computer Solitaire card game (although red and black colours are a problem for him).

In Microsoft WordPad he knew most of the major functions, including font size/colour, bold/underline features and highlight/copy/paste.

That is what ALS, bulbar option, gives us — a man who cannot walk, speak or write well but who can still operate a decent HID/UI combination with which he was familiar as professor and retired emailer/surfer/Solitaire player.

I thank Frank and his EMT driver at Johnson City/Washington County EMS for transporting my father back-and-forth from/to the VA CLC to/from the JCMC. Also, Lavonna, Tanya, April and Dr. Reddi (sp?); Jay, Pat, Amanda, Patty and others at the VA CLC; Pal’s in Colonial Heights; Hannah at Krispy Kreme in Johnson City; Home Depot in Kingsport; Evelyn and David Carpenter in Rogersville (and their great crew); Dawson Fields and Debbie at Martin’s Greenhouse; Patricia Rhoton; Tuesday Morning.

Speaking of Tuesday Morning, I picked up a Sena ZipBook iPad black classic leather case, MSRP at $99, for $14.99 this afternoon. I thank the cow(s) and bovine processors for the privilege of using this handcrafted genuine leather stand/cover to protect my overpriced 10-inch tablet PC (a/k/a iPad 2).

More to thank later. The medical staff at the VA CLC are a great understanding bunch, letting my father explore the hallways in his wheelchair in order to familiarise himself with his surroundings and hopefully get to know his hallmates, fellow military veterans that they are.

His current roommate, nicknamed Moses, is a Korean War veteran who served two years of active duty as a Marine helicopter mechanic, aged 81 and 98 pounds (half of it in his beard and long hair). Couldn’t ask for a friendlier man to share a room with my father.

Time for dinner with my mother — fresh vegetables from the fine folks at the Market in Rogersville — green beans, corn, sweet potatoes and ham.

Time to compute trajectories in the evening hours while connected to clandestine supercomputer networks hiding in plain view (do you know how much data storage we keep in the power lines outside your home?!).

A Universe of Symbols to Choose From

Leaning back in my father’s chair, typing on a Bluetooth keyboard, the iPad in a landscape position, my mother reviewing my sister’s handwritten notes from visits with medical personnel in hospital, rehab and at the VAMC, deciphering the need to set up a heal-the-vet (no, I mean Health-e-Vet) online account, I wonder about the [conscious] thoughts, if any, flowing through my father’s body.

After all, he’s not the sound mind and body man he was this time last year.

We can thank the vast wonders of the universe — the interplay of sets and nonsets of states of energy — for that.

Meanwhile, the scenic suburban setting out the dining room window calls attention to itself and its property definitions divided by manufactured/commercialised/grown chainlink, PVC, wood and shrub fencelines.

Toward what are we setting goals and attaining them?

I thank many of you and your ready participation in our globally-connected society, creating the opportunity for me to be here wondering about the longterm costs to, and benefits for, our health of y/our ready participation in all that we do.

We can see poisoned water or burning rivers and say, “A-ha! Factory pollution and sub/urban waste!”

But what about what we cannot see? What is the what we don’t know how to ask for?

The luxury of being here, watching an American eastern robin bob through mown grass for insects to eat is hard to fathom today. My father’s ability to comprehend why the image in front of him changes — a red-and-black blob [bird] bouncing across green [grass] in many [tree] shades of an [sunlit] afternoon — is harder to imagine. Being mute makes it so.

Birds don’t have health clinics or physical therapy rooms.

Fortunately, we do.

Instead of pondering further, I personally thank some of you [again] — Jennifer, Mary, Sue, Tina, Ethan, Michael, Benjamin, Amanda, Dr. Little, Barbara, Heather, Robin, Heidi, Dr. Province, Dr. May, Dept. of VA, Heather, Leigh Ann, Kristine…

Both Sides of the Law

While an Arby’s Junior dissolves with curly fries in my stomach, topped with a Reese’s bunny-shaped peanut butter flavoured bar, NASCAR drivers prepare for their usual weekend gig and Brazil nuts grow in the jungle.

A friend asked me why we no longer debate the [de]merits of having a chief executive in the White House with no military experience.

Good question.

We spend many a minute examining the minutiae of business experiences of major political candidates, including the incumbent, but we fail to notice their lack of actual, on-the-ground, basic-training, in-the-bunker or sweating-in-the-field-tent combat training.

Because I live in a town that generates a lot of local tax revenue from government-based military operations, my perspective might be different from that of a city dweller where large chunks of the economy come from the financial sector, tourism, creative arts or academia.

Sometimes, I get so wrapped up in the dual-use aspect of government spinoffs, including rocket technology and outer space life support systems, that I forget other industries prop up our modern standards of living, too.

What about the global economy in general?  It would be easy for me to get lost in reports about our hyperconnected world but I’m interested in more than that, as you know.

The global military budget is about 2% of world economic production.  Now, ask yourself, do you spend more or less than two percent of your household budget (post-tax take home pay, that is) to protect yourself, your loved ones and your possessions from the desire by others to possess what you have?

Think about these examples: the locks on your doors and windows; home security system; computer antivirus software; gates, fences and other property barriers; insecticides and herbicides; curtains/drapes; wall/ceiling/floor insulation; enclosed heating/cooling system; paper shredder; file cabinet/safe; personal weaponry (guns, knives, etc.); apartment/flat doorman.

What about the knowledge that your neighbours having some of the things above, that you don’t, acts as an implied deterrent for you?

Today, my family received the great news that my father, who served in the U.S. Army, and was recently diagnosed with ALS bulbar option, will be able to spend time in a temporary skilled nursing facility at the nearby VA medical center to aid in his rehab and preparation for longterm care.

History says we are involved in fewer and smaller wars as the years progress in this current cycle of globally-connected subcultures (a/k/a the one-world civilisation/order).

Despite our growing civility toward one another, old thought patterns prevail, meaning there is still a need for protective services of one sort or another and, in the longterm, medical care for those who served and sacrificed their time, effort and lives for the rest of us, whether or not we served and/or paid for protective services ourselves.

Our family thanks many who helped my father regain his physical strength and helped us work through the paperwork to secure a place for my father’s continued medical journey — IPC (Heather, Carmen, Anna), HealthSouth Rehab Hospital (Jennifer, Ethan, Amy, Amanda and many others), and VAMC (Heidi, PJ, and more).