I am SO diggin' this new radio station in DFW...100.3 Jack FM. Dating myself by admitting so, but not able to contain my delight at finding some tunes that rarely repeat, make me jive, and let me sing super loud while driving. It's the Tom Cruise "Freefalling" episode in real life. Additionally, I thank this format for reminding me of songs, left way in the background of my highschool mind, which I can now add to my roster of fun cycle music. What a reward to see a room full of cyclers gulping for breath and hoping this tyrrany will stop and then hearing the first few bars of "Black Betty" and ramping it up again because there is something tangible and inherently solid in this epoch of music.
Yea!...I love being my age!
8.24.2004
Killing Me Softly
Grandma is in the hospital...for the third time in 8 months with the same complaint. She and Grand-daddy raised me from a little sprout to a fourth grader with grand intentions and big dreams.
My Grandma has always been heavy. I've seen pictures of her before the birth of my mother and aunt in which she is a tall, rather Amazonic and attractive woman. However, when I came to know her, she was, as most Grandma's are (except for the little wispy ones) a cushy, cozy, plumpy woman who could make everything all good even when Grand-daddy was threatening me with the flyswatter. "Claude, you are not going to hurt this child!!" as I cowered behind her massive buttocks. I never taunted Grand-daddy from there as I knew he would eventually find me outside of Grandma's protective sphere and give me a sound "whippin'" with the swatter...fly guts and all.
Need less to say, I love...love dearly, my Grandparents, but they are very different people in many respects, a few quite integral, from the person I grew up to be. We differ in our faith, as well as our perceptions of the world and how it functions. These can be chalked up to generational differences. The most important rift is that concerning health, fitness and nutrition.
Can't remember if I have discussed this here, but a brief synopsis would be that I adhere (as best I can) to a tradition of fitness and nutrition that I feel will increase my productive years, help maintain mental stability, clean my colon of debris, and generally make me a more pleasant person to be around. I strive to stay away from manufactured chemicals that are being passed off as health remedies, in particular antibiotics. I won't force my lifestyle on you, but I will expound at length at the slightest provocation.
In light of this, my mother and I have been working on my Grandparents for several years to convince them that these dietary changes will not only help them lose weight (sorely needed. Grandma's hips span a yard), but will act to reverse the symptoms of mature onset diabetes (which they both have), can only be helpful in reversing Grand-daddy's heart disease (for which he has had two multiple bypass surgeries and countless arteriograms), and could certainly aid in Grandma's staggering diverticular erosions for which she is now in her third visit to grand old Mother Frances.
All of that withstanding, the continued hospitals visits, hemorhages, calls in the night, and unexpected visits to East Texas are beginning to take their toll. All of this preventable if she would exercise (just get out of the Barcalounger), and quit eating white bread. However, she, phobically afraid of doctors, surgery and all things medical, repeatedly tortures herself with ambulance rides, countless needle sticks and threats of colonectomies if she doesn't get her act together. We, her family, agonize over these incidents wishing we knew that magic combination of words to tell her so that she would stop slowly killing herself.
I want to be as loving and supportive as I possibly can, yet I am resigned to being ignored and feeling helpless in the wake of her obstinacy. I love her so immensely and I loathe her for her willful negligence.
Maybe the husbands, wives, children, and grandchildren of heavy chronic smokers feel this way.
My Grandma has always been heavy. I've seen pictures of her before the birth of my mother and aunt in which she is a tall, rather Amazonic and attractive woman. However, when I came to know her, she was, as most Grandma's are (except for the little wispy ones) a cushy, cozy, plumpy woman who could make everything all good even when Grand-daddy was threatening me with the flyswatter. "Claude, you are not going to hurt this child!!" as I cowered behind her massive buttocks. I never taunted Grand-daddy from there as I knew he would eventually find me outside of Grandma's protective sphere and give me a sound "whippin'" with the swatter...fly guts and all.
Need less to say, I love...love dearly, my Grandparents, but they are very different people in many respects, a few quite integral, from the person I grew up to be. We differ in our faith, as well as our perceptions of the world and how it functions. These can be chalked up to generational differences. The most important rift is that concerning health, fitness and nutrition.
Can't remember if I have discussed this here, but a brief synopsis would be that I adhere (as best I can) to a tradition of fitness and nutrition that I feel will increase my productive years, help maintain mental stability, clean my colon of debris, and generally make me a more pleasant person to be around. I strive to stay away from manufactured chemicals that are being passed off as health remedies, in particular antibiotics. I won't force my lifestyle on you, but I will expound at length at the slightest provocation.
In light of this, my mother and I have been working on my Grandparents for several years to convince them that these dietary changes will not only help them lose weight (sorely needed. Grandma's hips span a yard), but will act to reverse the symptoms of mature onset diabetes (which they both have), can only be helpful in reversing Grand-daddy's heart disease (for which he has had two multiple bypass surgeries and countless arteriograms), and could certainly aid in Grandma's staggering diverticular erosions for which she is now in her third visit to grand old Mother Frances.
All of that withstanding, the continued hospitals visits, hemorhages, calls in the night, and unexpected visits to East Texas are beginning to take their toll. All of this preventable if she would exercise (just get out of the Barcalounger), and quit eating white bread. However, she, phobically afraid of doctors, surgery and all things medical, repeatedly tortures herself with ambulance rides, countless needle sticks and threats of colonectomies if she doesn't get her act together. We, her family, agonize over these incidents wishing we knew that magic combination of words to tell her so that she would stop slowly killing herself.
I want to be as loving and supportive as I possibly can, yet I am resigned to being ignored and feeling helpless in the wake of her obstinacy. I love her so immensely and I loathe her for her willful negligence.
Maybe the husbands, wives, children, and grandchildren of heavy chronic smokers feel this way.
8.23.2004
The "J" Report, Episode 7...Mortal Sins
J stays! After calling on several zoos, rehab facilities and education programs, apparently a domesticated Blue Jay in pristine condition is just not wanted or needed. Feh!!!! So, I got out the scissors, clipped his primaries, cleaned the guano and ordered him a roomy cage. He'll live out his little birdy life in the lap of avian luxury attended by his winsome mistress and stuffing in as much BBQ as he can tolerate.**
Even after the clippage, J has proved to be an Olympic leaper and flutterer. He still manages to ascend to the highest shelf of the etigére, tip the Huichol ceremonial hat off its coconut head, cleverly deposit foodstuffs in the corners, bury tomatoes and corn in the ficus pot (should be a lovely garden there come next spring), and fling potting soil to the four corners of the living room and beyond. You just gotta love a bird weighing in at a mere couple hundred grams that can create such torments in his territory.
Of late, he has been begging Sterling for food. To which Sterling replies with a dignified huff and fluff. He has been marauding Sterling's cage. He has knocked two pictures off the wall and has destroyed a whole pod of garlic, distributing the papery thin casing to each and every wet spot he comes across, thus effectively super-gluing the wisps to counters, faucets and sinks. He discovered on Sunday that **ears are exceptional BBQ/food storage units**. And, that eyes are quite sparkly and whimsically peckable.
He dive bombs the shower spray and delights to sit on my eye-liner pencil as I apply my face. Soon he will poop on my sonic toothbrush, raid my underwear drawer and be caught lounging on the bed, toddy in hand, smoking jacket sashed, ordering birdy porn.
That's my J. Donations accepted via PayPal: ipoinc2003
Even after the clippage, J has proved to be an Olympic leaper and flutterer. He still manages to ascend to the highest shelf of the etigére, tip the Huichol ceremonial hat off its coconut head, cleverly deposit foodstuffs in the corners, bury tomatoes and corn in the ficus pot (should be a lovely garden there come next spring), and fling potting soil to the four corners of the living room and beyond. You just gotta love a bird weighing in at a mere couple hundred grams that can create such torments in his territory.
Of late, he has been begging Sterling for food. To which Sterling replies with a dignified huff and fluff. He has been marauding Sterling's cage. He has knocked two pictures off the wall and has destroyed a whole pod of garlic, distributing the papery thin casing to each and every wet spot he comes across, thus effectively super-gluing the wisps to counters, faucets and sinks. He discovered on Sunday that **ears are exceptional BBQ/food storage units**. And, that eyes are quite sparkly and whimsically peckable.
He dive bombs the shower spray and delights to sit on my eye-liner pencil as I apply my face. Soon he will poop on my sonic toothbrush, raid my underwear drawer and be caught lounging on the bed, toddy in hand, smoking jacket sashed, ordering birdy porn.
That's my J. Donations accepted via PayPal: ipoinc2003
8.21.2004
8.20.2004
This one, too...
I did the Spirit Guide too. The bird is definitely apropos, however when I received Reiki training in Mexico and my spirit was opened allowing my personal spirit guide to appear to me, it was a dog. Specifically, my black labrador, India, who at the time was not dead, but definitely in decline. Discuss amongst yourselves.
P.S. You know this is just for fun, right??
Hummingbird Spirit Calls To You!
Hummingbird
represents optimism and sweetness.
Being able to roll with the punches is an attribute
of Hummingbird.
Hummingbirds's Wisdom Includes:
Ability to heal by using light as a laser from
mouth
Endurance over long journeys
Ability to fly into small places to heal
Joy
Happiness
Love
Messenger, stopper of time.
P.S. You know this is just for fun, right??
Hummingbird Spirit Calls To You!
Hummingbird
represents optimism and sweetness.
Being able to roll with the punches is an attribute
of Hummingbird.
Hummingbirds's Wisdom Includes:
Ability to heal by using light as a laser from
mouth
Endurance over long journeys
Ability to fly into small places to heal
Joy
Happiness
Love
Messenger, stopper of time.
What a Surprise...
I don't know if this really fits...maybe my exterior persona, but not exactly the interior unless I am just fooling myself and not ready to accept my invicibility...
You are Long-wang!
Mythological Background: Yes, the dragon represents
everything you think of when you think of a
dragon - fearsome and invincible. Also, it is
greatly respected just because of that fact.
The dragon has a very protective aspect to it.
Even Jupiter reminds you of intense smashing
power. The dragon is almost always surrounded
by rain-bearing clouds and fog; and the
appearance of its constellation always signals
rainfall and lightning. It's also a symbol of
authority worn by the nobility and the imperial
class. Japanese Name: Seiryuu.
Which Chinese Mythological Being Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
You are Long-wang!
Mythological Background: Yes, the dragon represents
everything you think of when you think of a
dragon - fearsome and invincible. Also, it is
greatly respected just because of that fact.
The dragon has a very protective aspect to it.
Even Jupiter reminds you of intense smashing
power. The dragon is almost always surrounded
by rain-bearing clouds and fog; and the
appearance of its constellation always signals
rainfall and lightning. It's also a symbol of
authority worn by the nobility and the imperial
class. Japanese Name: Seiryuu.
Which Chinese Mythological Being Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
8.19.2004
Damp Thoughts
Drizzle patters, slaps and plops outside. Grey clouds ooze dusky light into my bedroom where I am entombed in my aquatic bower. Birds are quietly murmuring to the rain. All is heavy, pregnant with humidity and the fecundity that precipitation imports. My book beckons and the tea kettle hoots. Somehow I am sanguine on this freakish August day. Life is swelling, burgeoning in my small world and there is promise of lives yet to come. Blissfully light, I move through this weighty day.
8.18.2004
Of Late...
Sometimes it is important to step back and be selfish. Yep, take just one moment for me. And I'm talking about an impulsive, frivolous moment...not an, "Aw, just hit the snooze button one more time" moment. For me it is usually an impulse buy at Central Market in the floral department. A week ago, as I was shopping on a Tuesday night and not wanting to, I came to the check-out and noticed that bunches of beautiful roses were on sale. Not just the icky roses that were full-on and oocky colors. But, good roses...buds, vibrant and unusual colors. The attendant told me they were promoting roses the month of August and they would be on sale every Tuesday.
What a gimmick! I'm hooked.
What a gimmick! I'm hooked.
8.13.2004
Pass the Child, please...
The death of an icon. I am speechles. Sabayon will never be the same. Bechamelle will be forgotten. In honor of Ms. Child, I will slather my vegetables, meat and minerals in rich, raw cream butter.
I salute (sauté) her...
I salute (sauté) her...
8.11.2004
Sterling's Story
Abused, neglected and disabled, Sterling cowered despondently in the darkest corner. Shunned by his mates and deemed unfit to breed, Sterling was at the end of his rope. Luckily, a North Texas agency became interested in Sterling's story, but it would have to be someone very dedicated to relieve this poor fellow of his anxieties.
The rest is his-story...
The rest is his-story...
8.10.2004
Weekend Update
Ever been kissed by a large, friendly Blue & Gold Macaw? Well, let me tell you, it is not an experience you will soon forget.
Here's how the story goes:
Remember that on Saturday I was approached by my birdy friends to rescue a lovely blue Indian ringneck in Lubbock. The bird was not accompanied by any accessories, so I asked Jeff, a fellow bird lover and rescuer, if he had a cage I could borrow. And, of course, he did. I slip over to the units' house for some grub and movie while waiting for the call to come get the cage.
Oh, this is where it gets good...
Get the call from Jeff just as Mom is telling Joey exactly how to insert the DVD, if ya know what I mean. I pop over to Jeff's and arrive to find Jeff and Tommy getting ready to feed and having a relaxing conversation outside. Tommy is sporting BeBe, a large Blue & Gold Macaw on his shoulder. BeBe is a beautiful and friendly large bird and I am just brimming with excitement to hold her. Tommy assures me no prob and she swiftly climbs to my arm. I am admiring her beautiful head, amazingly strong feet and sweet demeanor. In fact, I am caught off guard as she strains and leans in for a big birdy smooch.
OK, now it gets REALLY good!
I am no stranger to parrot spit and am delighted that she is taking to me so quickly. So I, too, lean in for a big, wet, sloppy one and everything is just ducky. UNTIL, she decides that my bottom lip needs a little "plumping." She swiftly grabs said labia twixt pointy upper and flat, sharp lower beaks, gives a good hard pinch and then shrugs off with a sly look. I am stunned and think this is not too bad for my first macaw bite (these birds pack a whopping 900 PSI in those beaks - enough to sever a finger like butter). Tommy asks if she has bitten and I reply it was just a love bite. He gently admonishes her while I stand there beginning to feel the pain. I want to be "cool" so I ignore the bite and continue nattering on with Tommy. As I blather away I notice a curious look on Tommy's face and he suddenly asks if I would like a paper-towel. Meanwhile, I have the sensation that my lip is approaching Angelina Jolie size. Jeff brings me something to dab with and I realize that as I was blithering on, blood was crazily creeping down my chin. PRETTY!
Oh, the humiliation!
With swift goodbyes and apologies all around, I head home leaving my pride somewhere in the gutter. Arriving home, I am pleased to see that the movie is playing and the room is dark. I slip into my seat and watch the quite lovely British film, "Calendar Girls." Movie finishes, lights go up and to my chagrin ol' Mom has already figured out the state of my lower lip. Joey is delighted to see a hugely swollen lip sporting two neat little pinch marks.
Ok, now I want to crawl away.
We all laugh about it. I go home ecstatic about my first parrot on the morrow and I photograph the evidence.
Here's how the story goes:
Remember that on Saturday I was approached by my birdy friends to rescue a lovely blue Indian ringneck in Lubbock. The bird was not accompanied by any accessories, so I asked Jeff, a fellow bird lover and rescuer, if he had a cage I could borrow. And, of course, he did. I slip over to the units' house for some grub and movie while waiting for the call to come get the cage.
Oh, this is where it gets good...
Get the call from Jeff just as Mom is telling Joey exactly how to insert the DVD, if ya know what I mean. I pop over to Jeff's and arrive to find Jeff and Tommy getting ready to feed and having a relaxing conversation outside. Tommy is sporting BeBe, a large Blue & Gold Macaw on his shoulder. BeBe is a beautiful and friendly large bird and I am just brimming with excitement to hold her. Tommy assures me no prob and she swiftly climbs to my arm. I am admiring her beautiful head, amazingly strong feet and sweet demeanor. In fact, I am caught off guard as she strains and leans in for a big birdy smooch.
OK, now it gets REALLY good!
I am no stranger to parrot spit and am delighted that she is taking to me so quickly. So I, too, lean in for a big, wet, sloppy one and everything is just ducky. UNTIL, she decides that my bottom lip needs a little "plumping." She swiftly grabs said labia twixt pointy upper and flat, sharp lower beaks, gives a good hard pinch and then shrugs off with a sly look. I am stunned and think this is not too bad for my first macaw bite (these birds pack a whopping 900 PSI in those beaks - enough to sever a finger like butter). Tommy asks if she has bitten and I reply it was just a love bite. He gently admonishes her while I stand there beginning to feel the pain. I want to be "cool" so I ignore the bite and continue nattering on with Tommy. As I blather away I notice a curious look on Tommy's face and he suddenly asks if I would like a paper-towel. Meanwhile, I have the sensation that my lip is approaching Angelina Jolie size. Jeff brings me something to dab with and I realize that as I was blithering on, blood was crazily creeping down my chin. PRETTY!
Oh, the humiliation!
With swift goodbyes and apologies all around, I head home leaving my pride somewhere in the gutter. Arriving home, I am pleased to see that the movie is playing and the room is dark. I slip into my seat and watch the quite lovely British film, "Calendar Girls." Movie finishes, lights go up and to my chagrin ol' Mom has already figured out the state of my lower lip. Joey is delighted to see a hugely swollen lip sporting two neat little pinch marks.
Ok, now I want to crawl away.
We all laugh about it. I go home ecstatic about my first parrot on the morrow and I photograph the evidence.
8.09.2004
The "J" Report, Episode 1/2 Dozen
I went on and on about J's big decision and as destiny would have it, I will have to make this decision for him. Here's the deal...
Once you domesticate a wild animal, it is very difficult to release them back into their natural habitat and have confidence that they will survive for any length of time. Strict evolutionists would say that I commited my biggest crime by taking J in at all. Nature, left to it's own devices would have either saved J of her own accord, or he would have lain on the ground and starved to death, thus following the sometimes seemingly random harsh dictums of evolutionary selection. In effect, I snubbed my nose at Mother Nature and took on the role myself. And, according to chaos theory I may have stared something that will be felt as a monsoon in Asia.
Either way, now I have this beautiful bird and friend who cannot return to his natural habitat. Let back into nature he would surely not be afraid of people who want to harm, animals ready to pounce, and unkind meteoroligical events. After much cogitation and discussion with those who have been through this heart-breaking yet rewarding process, I feel I have two options - J can go to the zoo where he will have a semblance of nature or he can remain a pet.
You vote...
Once you domesticate a wild animal, it is very difficult to release them back into their natural habitat and have confidence that they will survive for any length of time. Strict evolutionists would say that I commited my biggest crime by taking J in at all. Nature, left to it's own devices would have either saved J of her own accord, or he would have lain on the ground and starved to death, thus following the sometimes seemingly random harsh dictums of evolutionary selection. In effect, I snubbed my nose at Mother Nature and took on the role myself. And, according to chaos theory I may have stared something that will be felt as a monsoon in Asia.
Either way, now I have this beautiful bird and friend who cannot return to his natural habitat. Let back into nature he would surely not be afraid of people who want to harm, animals ready to pounce, and unkind meteoroligical events. After much cogitation and discussion with those who have been through this heart-breaking yet rewarding process, I feel I have two options - J can go to the zoo where he will have a semblance of nature or he can remain a pet.
You vote...
8.07.2004
Feather Brain
I'm getting a new bird tomorrow (sing, sing...lalalalalala). My new friend Jeff called me this morning and pleasantly asked me, "Do you want a bird?" I was stunned, shocked...mouth-gaping, breath-stopping, butt-clenching shock. "Whoa," I thought, "what kind of bird? Am I ready for this? Holy, great Googlymoogly!" So, my mouth says yes before my brain clicks on and now I am off tomorrow to Lubbock to collect one lonely and abused blue ringneck parrot missing a couple of toes and a good loving mom (pictorial documentation on return). I am so thrilled, excited, ecstatic I can hardly wait to get there and collect my prize.
Here's how this happens...
Mom receives Orange Wing Amazon in transaction with client.
I start talking to Mom again after 4 year estrangement.
I learn to LOVE Ecco, the parrot.
Struggling to find my bliss and make money doing so, I create India Pet Organics.
Mom hooks me up with local bird lady.
Bird Lady becomes Crazy Bird Lady and goes tits up.
I go bonkers.
Mom goes to the mat for me and tells Crazy Bird Lady to "Shove your birds up your ass, you Bitch!"
I hang on to my bliss for the sake of my sanity.
Mom encourages.
I join Dallas and Fort Worth bird societies.
I meet Jeff, my new birdy friend.
I meet Jeff's extended and extensive family of loved ones - parrots, dogs, cats, chickens, and a big hairy thing called Tommy! (heehee, Jeffrey)
I rescue first parrot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The door just opened and I am by the gods stepping through it. No one can stop me now!
Here's how this happens...
Mom receives Orange Wing Amazon in transaction with client.
I start talking to Mom again after 4 year estrangement.
I learn to LOVE Ecco, the parrot.
Struggling to find my bliss and make money doing so, I create India Pet Organics.
Mom hooks me up with local bird lady.
In a fit of insanity, I accept the responsibility of hand-feeding, -raising and socializing hundreds of conures, cockatiels and parrots.
I find my bliss.
Bird Lady becomes Crazy Bird Lady and goes tits up.
I go bonkers.
Mom goes to the mat for me and tells Crazy Bird Lady to "Shove your birds up your ass, you Bitch!"
I hang on to my bliss for the sake of my sanity.
Mom encourages.
I join Dallas and Fort Worth bird societies.
I meet Jeff, my new birdy friend.
I meet Jeff's extended and extensive family of loved ones - parrots, dogs, cats, chickens, and a big hairy thing called Tommy! (heehee, Jeffrey)
I rescue first parrot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The door just opened and I am by the gods stepping through it. No one can stop me now!
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