"Vision"

The video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHZ_BkkB1Tk&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

Album Proof:

© 2010 

Verse:

Sing like you mean it

Live like there’s only one way to die

And you know there is a meaning

And there's only one way to ride

Yo this is Ty say hi not why,

Every other brotha get chips on the side

Get so nasty Otis goes wild

Get so noticed that's that life

Give another mother heart attack on site

Any other song I would sing this line

But this one’s different why uplift it

Any other time I'd oblige no fight

Get so lifted forget lines

Bring another hook just for old times

This one here goes down like

Verse:

Don’t waste all your time on go decide where you belong

Always on your mind is your safe life so comfortable

And even when you step your lonely mind to breathe how others do

You would rather not be bothered than discovered by the cold hard truth

Verse:

The end of the line will define your worth

Gotta leave a legacy behind on earth

For the sea for the sky for the trees for the birds

For those here now and long after

Just a play button with no rewind

Don’t get another try just one life

I don’t need to live too long just right

Always got another soundtrack in mind

To leave another mark on the man mankind

Bring another hook just for old times

This one here goes down like

Breakdown:

Sing like you mean it

Live like there’s only one way to die

And you know there is a meaning

And there's only one way to ride

Verse:

Don’t waste all your time on go decide where you belong

Always on your mind is your safe life so comfortable

And even when you step your lonely mind to breathe how others do

You would rather not be bothered than discovered by the cold hard truth

The Christmas Tree From Hell

The "Christmas Tree From Hell" - 2010.

In the early 90's, we were still holding out for real Christmas trees each year. You know, the ones that are freshly cut and smell so good? Plus, I was a little snooty in thinking fake trees were just that...fake. The idea of having one seemed like it would be taking a lot out of the Christmas experience for our family.

But then somewhere around the mid-90s the wonderful world of allergies kicked in with both Julie and I and we lost the fight. We decided it would be a lot more comfortable, sneeze-wise in our house if we had a fake tree.

A measly few hundred dollars later we had her up in all her glory. 800-900 built-in lights, all hand wound with authentic looking fake branches; she was the works in all her artificial glory! I even bought a huge molded plastic storage box to keep her safely contained in our mini-barn during the off season.

Then, over the next few years I was 'fortunate' to discover first hand how fragile the lighting system was. Those 800-900 lights on the Tree From Hell were in a string of eighteen independent plug-in sections, each of which would go dark if two or more of its lights went out. Back then, as now, I was and am pretty clueless about lights. I also found out, no matter how careful I was in handling the tree, dozens of lights would go out each year.

The first year I recall noticing this problem I was lucky(?) to hit the local hardware store and purchase a pen-like device that would test an individual light after it was removed from the string. Each light on our tree was secured by a small clasp that required a fingernail maneuver to open and the tightness of the connection required another fingernail maneuver to get it out.  Easy enough for a couple of lights but after a dozen or so the process made fingertips mighty tender. (yeah i know, a "wimp")

Oftentimes, I would attempt to locate the beginning of a string then remove, check, and if needed, replace each light independently until the string had enough gumption to come back on. It was enough to bring small utterances of the blue kind on occasion. One year (the worst) I had to remove, check and replace several hundred of the lights...a process that took me most of the day and had me searching for new cuss words to loudly spread throughout our home.

Along the way I also found out once you have found and purchased replacement lights the battle is far from over. While those tiny lights all appear the same there are literally dozens of different plug-in bases and the diameter of the base will sometimes vary.   There is also some form of electrical variance (ohms?) that can cause perfectly fitting replacements lights to burn out instantly when they are inserted in your string. This all made working replacement lights very hard to find.

I usually had so many lights burned out I didn't want to buy the individual packs of 5 or so replacements they typically sell. It was and is a lot cheaper to buy an entire string of lights and pop them out individually for replacements.

All of these developments served to have me dreading Christmas as I knew the Tree From Hell would kick my ass again. I also knew the experience would start me on a dark cussing streak that would cause Julieann's blood pressure to rise and generally spoil a day or so of our holiday season.

Then, a few years ago, I found a wonderful device.  A pistol shaped contraption that you hook to a light string to restart it. You pull its trigger a few times and it jump starts the string so you can immediately see which lights are out. This meant I no longer had to remove and check lights individually to find out where the weak ones were.

Most recently, as in last year, I had finally found an effective replacement light at Ace hardware and was so proud of that I bought four boxes of 200 light strings. I figured that would last me at least three years considering how many seemed to burn out each year. When I started replacing them this year though, I found out the bases were just slightly smaller than those on our tree and they would be so loose they would fail to make the connection needed to get the whole string working again.

At that, I was ready to give up. I had been to so many stores.  I had tried and bought so many lights that looked like they might work, replaced so many bulbs and had so many tender fingers I was ready to cash it in. Julie witnessed all that and, much to my surprise seemed to agree. In fact, she said, "We just won't have a tree this year." I was with her on that notion and stashed the entire three piece contraption along our fence for later disposal. Then I hit Google to see what replacement trees might cost. I was figuring (hoping) the technology might have improved and we might get a better model. What I quickly found out was that getting a comparable tree would cost us roughly a thousand dollars. That represented a fair amount of chrome for my Harley so I quickly decided to hit the replacement bulb circuit again.

I found Phillips lights at Target and was encouraged. I brought them home, removed and plugged one into our tree and it instantly burnt out. Deja vu? Yes. No problem though as I am a veteran light-replacer of many years. I hit the road again... nothing different at Ace hardware but two promising possibilities at Orchard hardware including GE and some generic brand. The GE's worked and now we have a bag full of several boxes of replacements.

The Christmas Tree From Hell is working too.  But I know, deep down inside her fake branches she is thinking of ways to torment me next year. Inside that Beauty is a true Beast.  I will be ready though.  I will have two (yes two) diagnostic guns and several boxes of tried and true GE bulbs. Bring it on Tree!

"Greater Love...

"Reflections in the Wall" Artist Unknown

hath no man...
That he would give up his life
For his (country)." ***

Yesterday our nation commemorated its veterans
For the 91st time (give or take)
Since it was originally called "Armistice Day"
At the end of WWI on November 11, 1918

That same month my Father was born
He would go on to serve in the Navy during WWII
He was assigned to a tanker ship, the USS Cimarron
He never saw combat

I would follow with service in the Air Force
For 24 years starting around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis
And ending many years after the War in Viet Nam.
I spent two years in Thailand during the war and never saw combat

Wife Julieann would serve with me as a military spouse
For 18 of those years (that's 11 PCS moves for her in military parlance)
Many would argue that she did see combat
And that was possibly what she contemplated
On various occasions when she was trying to
Get me to do the right thing.

Between the three of us
Over 45 years of service...
Over 16,000 days of service
To our country

And here...is a fact
The sum of all those years
The sum of all those days
Is not even a drop in the bucket

In comparison to one Soldier, Sailor,
Marine or Airman's day in combat
With precious life at risk
Not one drop.
Period.

These are the ones we hold closest to our hearts on Veteran's Day
The combat veterans who survived
And the ones we lost
The ones who demonstrated the greatest love
The ones who gave us all they could possibly give
God bless them, heroes every one.
I also want to once again commend this song...
To them...our heroes... for you to enjoy:

Il Silenzio

***Attributed to the King James version of the Bible, John 15:13

The Line

Chalk line

(Click to enlarge this puppy and check out the lines...)

Power line

First in line

Center line

Chorus line

Clothes line

The fine line

Jump the line

Draw the line

Cross the line

End of the line

Back of the line

Front of the line

Latest in the line

Middle of the line

Mason Dixon line

I Walk The... (you know)

Queue (the highbrow version)

I’m not li’ne (Nah, not to you anyway!)

Beautiful lines

This is about the last one.

Beautiful lines

See the picture?

See what I mean?

Struck by a tree…not in the literal sense

As in having one ripped out by the roots

And smacking me where I deserve

“Take THAT you pitiful reprobate”!

But more so in the figurative sense

As in gawking at our old oak tree

It is a Western or “Cork” oak

It sits in the far back of our yard

It is noticed mainly at times of the year

When its small leaves make a mess out of

Molly’s own Personal Swimming Pool

And when it’s branches grow too close

To the power lines

So the utility company has to

Give it kind of a brutal trim

With little or no thought to esthetics

I happened to be back there

At the right time for beautiful morning shadows

And noticed she has grown somewhat stately

In the twenty plus years we have been here

So I wanted to give her credit for being around for us.

Look At You Jon Stewart!

I stopped making political posts some time ago, when a close friend pleaded with me to quit.  I thought he made a great case as my writing is intended primarily for two things;  to recollect life for the record and to entertain along the way.

At the Rally

In my mind this entry does not signal a return to politics, it celebrates a plea to restore sanity... yesterdays's Rally hosted by Jon Stewart in our Capital Mall.  I loved his speech at the end, so much so that I am posting it verbatim here.  To me, his is the voice of reason at a time when left and right extremists seem to be the ones taking center stage all too often.

I am fortunate to have a fair number of friends and they come from many persuasions; left... right... between.  Some lean pretty far toward either side of the spectrum but they remain my friends nonetheless.  This post is for them.  This post is for you.

Take it away Jon:

"And now I thought we might have a moment, however brief, for some sincerity. If that's okay - I know that there are boundaries for a comedian / pundit / talker guy, and I'm sure that I'll find out tomorrow how I have violated them.

So, uh, what exactly was this? I can't control what people think this was: I can only tell you my intentions.

This was not a rally to ridicule people of faith, or people of activism, or look down our noses at the heartland, or passionate argument, or to suggest that times are not difficult and that we have nothing to fear--they are, and we do.

But we live now in hard times, not end times. And we can have animus, and not be enemies. But unfortunately, one of our main tools in delineating the two broke.

The country's 24-hour, political pundit perpetual panic conflictinator did not cause our problems, but its existence makes solving them that much harder. The press can hold its magnifying glass up to our problems, bringing them into focus, illuminating issues heretofore unseen. Or they can use that magnifying glass to light ants on fire, and then perhaps host a week of shows on the dangerous, unexpected flaming ants epidemic. If we amplify everything, we hear nothing.

There are terrorists, and racists, and Stalinists, and theocrats, but those are titles that must be earned! You must have the resume! Not being able to distinguish between real racists and Tea Party-ers, or real bigots and Juan Williams or Rick Sanchez is an insult--not only to those people, but to the racists themselves, who have put in the exhausting effort it takes to hate. Just as the inability to distinguish terrorists from Muslims makes us less safe, not more.

The press is our immune system. If it overreacts to everything, we actually get sicker--and, perhaps, eczema. And yet... I feel good. Strangely, calmly, good. Because the image of Americans that is reflected back to us by our political and media process is false. It is us, through a funhouse mirror--and not the good kind that makes you look slim in the waist, and maybe taller, but the kind where you have a giant forehead, and an ass shaped like a month-old pumpkin, and one eyeball.

So why would we work together? Why would you reach across the aisle, to a pumpkin-assed forehead eyeball monster? If the picture of us were true, of course our inability to solve problems would actually be quite sane and reasonable--why would you work with Marxists actively subverting our Constitution, and homophobes who see no one's humanity but their own?

We hear every damned day about how fragile our country is, on the brink of catastrophe, torn by polarizing hate, and how it's a shame that we can't work together to get things done. The truth is, we do! We work together to get things done every damned day! The only place we don't is here (in Washington) or on cable TV!

But Americans don't live here, or on cable TV. Where we live, our values and principles form the foundation that sustains us while we get things done--not the barriers that prevent us from getting things done.

Most Americans don't live their lives solely as Democrats, Republicans, liberals or conservatives. Americans live their lives more as people that are just a little bit late for something they have to do. Often something they do not want to do! But they do it. Impossible things, every day, that are only made possible through the little, reasonable compromises we all make.

(Points to video screen, showing video of cars in traffic.) Look on the screen. This is where we are, this is who we are. These cars. That's a schoolteacher who probably think his taxes are too high, he's going to work. There's another car, a woman with two small kids, can't really think about anything else right now... A lady's in the NRA, loves Oprah. There's another car, an investment banker, gay, also likes Oprah. Another car's a Latino carpenter; another car, a fundamentalist vacuum salesman. Atheist obstetrician. Mormon Jay-Z fan.

But this is us. Every one of the cars that you see is filled with individuals of strong belief, and principles they hold dear--often principles and beliefs in direct opposition to their fellow travelers'. And yet, these millions of cars must somehow find a way to squeeze, one by one, into a mile-long, 30-foot-wide tunnel, carved underneath a mighty river.

And they do it, concession by concession: you go, then I'll go. You go, then I'll go. You go, then I'll go. 'Oh my God--is that an NRA sticker on your car?' 'Is that an Obama sticker on your car?' It's okay--you go, then I go.

And sure, at some point, there will be a selfish jerk who zips up the shoulder, and cuts in at the last minute. But that individual is rare, and he is scorned, and he is not hired as an analyst!

Because we know, instinctively, as a people, that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light, we have to work together. And the truth is there will always be darkness, and sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn't the promised land.

Sometimes, it's just New Jersey."

"S__t Happens"

Or at least that's what my old pal Forrest Gump says.

Cats left... dogs right ("Poop" sign is at bottom of right window)

While we are on the topic I should recount
My visit to our Vet's office this morning
To pick up Molly's thyroid meds

First, I took in the familiar dual entrances
With a different, say "human" perspective
As in; what if they were intended for people?
Cats to the left and dogs to the right... pretty clear
Well, I used to be a Cool Cat so I woulda' went left

Famous "Poop" sign for those who may be in continent...
you know, like... in North America.

But now I am an Old Dog so the answer is obvious.

Then, I took in the 'Poop' sign
From a similar... person's perspective
Don't know about you but I'm grateful they provide bags
And I certainly would need assistance if I were to attempt to use one.

Brake... Down

Julieann Marie - Pattaya Beach Thailand - 1972

Yup its a Brake Down

Want to wash Bertha, the family auto, before picking up
Julieann from the Airport this afternoon
But there is a chance of rain
Today and for the next couple

Should I slow down, or stop
As is my custom?
My approach has always been
Delay things until the last possible moment

Julie's is to do things immediately 
When they surface

A conundrum here
Please pass the...
Container holding
Moments of decision thanks.

Aw I'll just go
Julie will give me an "A+"
For effort the moment
She realizes I did it

She's that way you know.

Marbles! (A Deadly Game...)

Not so long ago
In my feeble mind
We gambled

Kids in the streets of Pontiac, Michigan
We lived within bicycle distance of downtown
It was friendly and safe then
Not so now

Life was idyllic
Though we were poor
We lived in the back half
Of an old house rental

Cousin Phil and his family
Lived in the front of the house
Cousin Dennis and his family
In their own place behind us

Dads were all factory workers

It was that way for a couple of years
As I recall
And we kids gambled...
With marbles that is

And not just the old style game of "Ringer" either...

Turn an empty coffee can upside down
Poke a hole in it slightly larger than a marble
(Be careful!  The larger the hole, the easier the game.)
Set your odds based on how difficult you have made your can

Cruise the neighborhood with can and marbles
You know someone out there will take you on
Give'em the rules and play the game
"You gotta' hold your marble at least waist high."

"Drop it through the hole in the can on the ground.
If you miss I keep the marble.
If you hit, I give you back your marble plus two more.
C'mon.  You can't lose!"

Remember, if it is an easy can (large hole) you might set the odds at 2:1.
If it is a hard can you might set the odds at 3,4 or 5:1
If you make it too hard word'll get out and you
Might as well  "kick the can"...

In the marble gambler's lexicon: "Cats-eye, Purie,
Steelie, Shooter, Knuckle Down, Boulder..."
All part of talkin' tough
When you're in the game

Gambling.  Its what we did.
"A Deadly Game?"  Nah, just kidding.

Serenity

Tyler Thomas Campbell

To me, this song characterizes the "generation gap" angst we experienced between ourselves and our parents.  A gap that we, in turn, saw or will see between us and our children and one that is likely destined to recur between all generations:

Click here for the recorded studio version of "Serenity."***

The lyrics follow:

Verse:

Thank you for giving me what you've given me and I... 
Will take everything and make it quite worth your time

But, all I'm living for is some... some serenity and I... 
All I'm asking you for is some peace and quiet.

I know that you've lived more life and you've seen so many things, 
this time it's not the same and I see with 2 different eyes

Chorus:

Samantha Marie Campbell

The world is about to explode and I want to live it up

It's no perfect fairytale or some theme from a storybook

It's all about slaving the grind is that what were fighting for

A cold concrete paradise well I hope there is more in store for me... 

I hope there's more in store for me.

Verse:

Thank you for giving me opportunities and I... Know it took all your strength to swallow your pride

Each day has given to me... more of that inspiration and I 
Will channel it from deep down inside

I know that life is so hard, and we have come way too far, it's just another wall that I need to climb.

Chorus:

The world is about to explode and I want to live it up

It's no perfect fairytale or some theme from a storybook

It's all about slaving the grind is that what were fighting for

A cold concrete paradise well I know there is more in store for me... 

I know there's more in store for me.

Just my interpretation but I appreciate the soulful effort to explain conflict and gratitude followed by an expression of hope for the future in the first chorus, then certainty of the future in the second.

*** From the Album, No Regrets in the Garden of Weeden by Arden Park Roots,  copyright 2010 

Asides

Unrelated Photo by old pal Dave Evans included without permission
 because it is more exciting that way.

Well.  Today we have gathered to share our understanding of a phenomenon that has perplexed the best of us through good times and bad but then there are those who would contend that times would not be what they are if there were not a mixture of both; therefore, who among us is fit to judge whether there is merit in the thinking of the masses who would prefer to ponder the complexities of various approaches to the solution of problems that have plagued us since the last time man was face to face with anyone of significance and therein lies the proverbial rub?
(WTF?)


But then again. Tomorrow we will see that there are many forms of this sort of activity none of which assume a definable figure at least as far as we can see but then our vision is limited by our perspective borne out of background, study, experience and fundamental understanding of the per-mutable laws which define the essence of man from a truly unbiased standpoint as if there were such a thing as unbiased, unblemished or unvarnished for that matter.
(Ok... I am getting the point... there is no point.)

On the other hand. In the past, our experiences have been derived from a collection of known and unknown factors the unknown being the most confusing at least from the continuance of studies limited by literally having to lick ones fingers to gain purchase on the next page but then we now are able to turn those pages with a simple sweep of a finger across a screen therein unlocking the great literary works of mankind including some of the worst and, as is this, some of the best.
(Yup.. it is some of that cheap California wine at work here my Dear... just go with the flow...)

"Asides"... you gotta' love'em.

DCWC

He is a gentle, loving man... of keen intellect.

He grew from a poor family in Seattle
Once briefly living in the projects as a child
Reared paycheck-to-paycheck style
In a loving but poor family

He briefly embraced the counter culture
That was all around him in the sixties
And seventies
But finally shook it as he discovered
Abiding interest in music, martial arts and electronics

It wasn't until the 90's that he met and married
A resourceful, energetic, upbeat Canadian who herself had emerged
From a culture of abuse and dysfunction
Together they forged a relationship that
Placed heavy dependence on each other's strengths
And shored up each other's doubts

Seven years ago after an amazing run of persistence
That would challenge the patience and resourcefulness of both
They had a fine towheaded, blue eyed son... Dakota
He would prove to be the final catalyst to their already strong marriage...
The meaning of their lives

Dakota was up to this in every way
A handsome, thoughtful, inquisitive, athletic son

DCWC and son, Dakota at Sacramento's famous Gunther's Ice Cream Parlor
August, 2010

With a wonderful sense of humor
Who would bring laughter to every day of their lives

As time passes, this son will grow from a loving, professionally successful family
His father in aircraft electronics; his mother in construction insurance underwriting
His family will nurture his direction to its fullest
As he finds his way through life

This is America
This is the place where my brother
David Claud William Campbell
Develops his life to it's fullest

Where he emerges as a gentle, loving man... of keen intellect.

My hero.