Relative Something

Do you believe in ghosts? For me, the evidence presented, for the span of time which accounts have been reported, has all been pretty similar. None of it has ever really advanced the whole concept forward toward a more universal acceptance. And in an overwhelming majority of depictions, it is framed as a threat. I’m not buying that representation.

If I was lucky enough to be gifted by contact with a ghost, I would be thrilled. Why is fear the response most often dredged up to an opportunity to actually communicate with a spirit? Imagine what my reality show about investigating the paranormal would look like. It would be dark, spooky, and the image would be in that ghoulish night vision green. An apparition would seem to appear and I would become thrilled to see it and with no fear whatsoever, attempt to engage in conversation. Then nothing would happen. Oh well. Maybe that is why I don’t work in reality television.

There is a heck of a lot more excitement to be had if I panic and run, or even just hyperventilate in fear, isn’t there?

It seems to me that all of the drama related to interactions with ghosts, comes from the people that are alive, not the ghosts, themselves.

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Boo!

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I would love to tell you what it is that needs to be heard around the world to solve the economic slump/climate change/obesity epidemic/terror threat/bad calls by baseball umpires problem, but all I can say about everything is that if it wasn’t one of these issues, it would be something else. Sometimes I think that the answers might be right in front of us, in a Randy Newman song or something, and we’re just not hearing it.

I’m pretty sure our cat knows the answers. I think she keeps trying to explain it to me, over and over and over. Sometimes, if I give her some verbal response, she gets this look of hope as if she thinks I just might be understanding what she is saying. Not even close. Meow. Meow. Meooow. Mew. I’m just not gettin’ it. It seems, the less I appear to get it, the more it upsets her. So she empties the contents of her stomach as some sort of stress response.

I’m not a cat guy. We had a few dogs over the years of my childhood. The last one was a britney spaniel that would jump for the tennis ball we bounced off the floor. Wonderfully entertaining. One of the things I really liked about him, even though I didn’t realize it at the time, was that he didn’t throw up all over the house. That’s a really appealing attribute. In the end, we gave him up because he had begun to run away and be gone for days at a time. I have a feeling he may have known what it’s all about, too. The difference is that he didn’t spend any energy trying to tell us about it. It’s as if he expected us to figure it out for ourselves. I respect that.

I’ve always been more of a dog guy.

I’m not quite sure why the thermostat in the hallway at my house was reading 20° last night, but that is what I found when I was feeling chilly enough to get up and peek at it to see if the furnace was working. My first guess was that it was battery related. The instructions indicate that when the batteries get low, the display will flash, “Lo Bat” for 1 or 2 months. No sign of that. I have no explanation. I pulled out the batteries, cycled the control off and on, reseated the batteries, and then the display returned to normal and I suddenly had a reading of 68°. Logic would indicate that somehow the reading had switched to Celsius. That doesn’t explain why I was feeling chilly.

Shortly after that, I think I experienced my first ever asthma attack. I don’t really know if what I went through qualifies for the label of attack, but my lungs sure were making me wheeze all of a sudden, and I wasn’t doing anything that I can identify would cause such a reaction. It seemed to come on over a very short time, and appeared out of nowhere. I found my peak flow meter to test myself, to see if the congestion  I was noticing would result in a remarkably low reading. I sure expected it would, but it didn’t. I achieved the same kind of numbers as my usual. Cyndie suggested I try my inhaler to see what that would do. She is a smart girl. It calmed my lungs right back down to normal. I have no idea what that was about.

Some superstitious people believe that things like this happen in threes. I didn’t wait around to see. I went to bed after the two.

Getting everything in order around here lately. Set out the clothes yesterday for volunteers from the non-profit organization to pick up, but then realized they aren’t due until Wednesday. Lawn is mowed as short as the mower will cut, hopefully the last time of the season. The couches and carpets were professionally cleaned yesterday, as well. It feels like we are getting ready for something. I don’t know what that is.

One of the fascinating discoveries found during weekend chores

How many times do you welcome a stranger at the door looking to sell something just as you are settling down after a long day’s work? I don’t know that I ever have, but yesterday turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The gentleman was going door to door for the cable company to “audit” customers and see if they couldn’t offer a package that would save us some money. I’ve been seeing their literature for years, in which they market cable tv with internet and phone. The mailings have been excessive, and often so elaborate that I’ve wondered how it could be so valuable to them that they would put this much effort into it. But none of it was enough to sway me from a setup that we already had in place and that was serving us fine.

To the best of my knowledge, none of the mailings ever appeared to save us any money, and it would take at least that much to get me to make changes in a system that was working well enough, thus far. Well, in person, the offer was pretty clear and looks to save us easily enough to convince me to succumb to their passion to have us as a customer of all three services. I still don’t know what it is that they get out of the deal that makes this worth the marketing effort they put into it, but common sense would indicate that somehow, they stand to make plenty more than they spend, selling us on the idea. And it doesn’t hurt to send an incredibly likable salesperson to make the pitch. Maybe the fact that he recently played football for the University of Minnesota and that we shared a lot of interests appealed more specifically to me, but that likability part, that would work on anyone.

This shirt was less trashed than most

I’m willing to bet that there are an awful lot of people who can relate to the dilemma of trying to get rid of clothes they don’t wear, but keep because of some personal connection. Yesterday, I decided to give away a shirt that I haven’t worn in years, but which I have been keeping because it had my children’s hand prints painted all over it. I had to make that kind of decision ten times over. Cyndie finally came to the rescue with a claim that she was going to make a blanket out of some of the shirts that I couldn’t figure out how to part with. Many of these shirts are custom made. It is a wonderful idea and helped my decision making process immensely.

It also inspired me to dig a little deeper and pull out a bag of shirts I wore back in high school that I had been keeping all these years with a plan to use for some sort of wall hanging. That was a revelation! Many of them were totally trashed. I don’t know what I was thinking in keeping them. But if Cyndie will make me a blanket, then the less trashed of these deserve to be in it.

I completely forgot about this shirt

I don’t know why, but for years I have had a tendency to leave lights off when I move around the house at night. In particular, for some reason that eludes me, this habit pertains mostly to the stairs and hallway toward the bedrooms on the second level. I don’t think there is a night when I climb those stairs empty handed. I almost always carry up a full cup of filtered water from the kitchen tap. Why do I persist in doing it in the dark?

It’s just plain silly. Sometimes I find myself feeling the steps with my feet in attempt to avoid a misstep. When I get to the top, I open my eyes wide and wonder if this is what it is like to be blind, except I am waiting to pick up a hint of light from a window or clock as I walk, in order to maintain my bearing toward the center of the hall. Once I reach the bedroom, I don’t hesitate to turn on a light. But during the trip up, I choose the dark. What’s up with that?

Honestly, I don’t have any justification for this behavior, but it does occur to me that I am disinclined to flip a light on, just to switch it off again a few steps away. Why? I don’t know. Am I worried I’ll wear out the switches? One could suggest a night-light in the hall, and I wouldn’t be able to argue against it, except to explain that there are no outlets on the walls of the hallway. The truth is, had I not chosen to write about it, I really don’t ever give the practice any thought beyond the moment I am doing it. Writing this is more time on the subject than I’ve ever considered, by far. Usually, it consists of a passing question to myself as I am in the middle of walking in the darkness, and then it is out of mind as soon as I reach my destination and get on with a typical evening’s ritual. So, other than just now, I never actually bother looking for a solution to this questionable practice.

I’ve revealed a classic opportunity to make a conscious choice toward continued self-improvement. Install a night-light somewhere.

This morning, while snuggled in bed during the transition from asleep to alert, the thought occurred to me that I suck. Really. As I was lying there, I became aware that I hold my mouth under a bit of suction. As far as bad habits go, I assume it’s  better than grinding my teeth, but what kind of rest am I getting if I’m tensing muscles? Maybe it’s a carry over of the stress from the night before, getting upstairs in the dark.

What is cool? I’m willing to bet that the majority of normal, reasonable people do not plan ahead to define what they think will be cool. But if I recall correctly, somewhere back in childhood, there is a period where there is plenty of energy given to the process of being cool. I believe there are a few principle aspects that help accomplish ‘cool’. When it is achieved, it is never the result of an action taken with the intent of being cool. Whatever it is about something that is cool, it has to have been the result of something other than an actual attempt to be cool.

One problem with judging cool is that it is entirely subjective. One person’s cool is another person’s silly or ridiculous. It can be difficult to tell when you may have overdone it. Maybe it is cool that images can be manipulated using software, but if you make a model’s waist and pelvis smaller than her head for a fashion ad, people take it as not only uncool, but downright offensive. Maybe it evolved with the thought that if a little is cool, then a lot would be even more cool. Hardly.

There is a context to be considered for cool. When the group of 7th grade suburban boys gathered on their bikes in the driveway next door one afternoon, all dressed like they had adopted a culture more often associated with LA rap musicians, it brought a chuckle. It may have worked for their age group, but from my vantage point, they were making quite a leap.

When wild musicians strut their stuff in concert and romp around town with the band, they are all about cool, but what about when they take the wild look to the bank or the doctor’s office? It can’t be easy maintaining that coolness in all contexts, can it?

Always the contrarian, I’m more inclined to go for the silly or ridiculous. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and in the right context, someone will mistake it for cool.

There is something about morning that seems to inspire ideas for me, many times appearing to show up pretty much out of the blue. Unfortunately, that rarely aligns with the part of me that becomes inspired to take action. The other day I experienced a wonderful synchronicity that served to support one of my more simple inspirations, when I received a phone call from a local non-profit, checking if I had any clothing or household items to donate. That very morning, as I stepped into our closet to select something to wear to work, I felt a renewed urge to redistribute the items of clothing that I have not been wearing. When the call came, it solidified a plan for me, and gave me just the impetus I need to act. I hope. I’ve got until Monday.

Happy Friday.

Recently, in the ‘Opinions’ section of a local paper, I came across a letter that had been submitted in response to an article about squad cars getting sophisticated video cameras in an effort to deter racially biased policing. That article had the headline, “New way to fight gangs is unveiled.” The letter writer suggests “that a new way to fight gangs would be to talk to them.” It struck me as amusing to imagine what this might look like. Who would be the best person to do the talking? A regular patrol officer? A detective? Someone from the Mayor’s office? A former gang member who served time and then left that life when he or she got out? A gang member’s parent? A business person whose property gets tagged with gang symbols? An administrator or teacher from the local school? A local NFL celebrity?

When would be a good time to talk? Do we ask the gang to gather all their members and talk to everyone at once, or try for small groups or individuals? Would it be better to meet them on their turf or invite them to some site away from their place of ‘business’? What would the discussion be like? Do we need to tell them why their activity as a gang is a problem for the rest of the community? Do we need to give them an opportunity to talk about why they choose to be a gang?

Is there any possible way that the gang members are going to be interested in this idea? Hey, if they are for it, I’m all in! I’ll pay for donuts.

I don’t mean to belittle the whole issue of gangs by the amusement I felt for the idea, but it struck me as so out of proportion, for the complexity of the reasons gangs exist and operate as they do today, to suggest simply talking.

And, as long as I’ve already gone this far, let me reveal a bit of the darker side of strange ideas that find their way into my head. During the barrage of football coverage I watched last weekend, I heard an announcer commenting about a particular impact from a block or a tackle in a way that led me to imagine he might as well just come out and say what it sounds like he wants to say… that he was trying to kill the other guy. He wasn’t saying it, because that isn’t what he meant, but it is a phrase that gets used to describe such a hit, and it is what I was hearing him leading toward; not the literal meaning of kill the guy, but figuratively, to dispatch him out of the play. After having heard all the hyped up pre-game analysis and posturing that goes on every week for over an hour before games get underway, and surfing 2 or 3 different games being broadcast simultaneously, I suddenly heard in my head, “kill,” and had this thought: Why hasn’t someone like “Saturday Night Live” done a skit of a gang fight under the guise of a televised football game broadcast. Maybe because it would be in poor taste. Wait, that has never stopped them before.

It would be easy. Before the fight the analysts can talk about the previous won-loss records of the gangs involved, which members wouldn’t be able to fight because they are injured or incarcerated. We could meet the gangsters by having them each state their names and list what school they are not going to anymore. I can see an easy feature on one or two guys where we learn more about how far they have come to achieve the spot they now hold in the gang. Then it would be simple to mock the normal football play-by-play and color commentator analysis by applying it to a clash of two gangs in combat with each other. I guess the sad part about the whole sick thought is that it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch. It fits a bit too well, doesn’t it?