Simple Man

So…ALSO on the way home tonight, when I first got in the car, as the rain was pouring down and I thought about the stresses of the day washing away, the song Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd was on the radio when I started the car. 

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Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this it'll help you some sunny day

Oh, take your time don't live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
Go find a woman you'll find love
And don't forget son there is someone up above

And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can?

Forget your lust for the rich man's gold
All that you need is in your soul
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied

And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can? Oh yes, I will

Boy, don't you worry you'll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied

And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can?
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There really is something to be said here. It seems like life can be so complicated; and that’s without people who over-complicate things, or us over-complicating things ourselves.  I really feel like life is supposed to be simple. Why do we get caught up in the details? Why do we feel we have to control every single thing? Why can’t we just accept things as they are and keep moving forward?  And yes, I know that things are hard sometimes and sometimes they’re hard to accept as they are.  

Whatever happened to the Golden Rule? “DO unto others as you would have them do unto you?” Maybe if we went back to that simple rule life would be a lot easier.  What about putting in a decent day’s work and how that should stand for itself? Coming home, having a nice dinner with your spouse, your kids, or just yourself? Wishing people a good day? I refuse to believe we’ve gone too far to go back. Life can’t be about all the hustle and bustle…there has to be more to it than that. Or, should I say, less?

 
Because I want to be a simple kind of man – be something I love and understand.

Stormclouds and Rainbows

So on my way home tonight, a pretty big storm rolled on through…heavy winds, downpours, thunder claps and lightning streaks; all lasting 30 minutes tops. It was one of those storms that seems to roll in from nowhere and leave just as quickly. And best of all, this was the type of storm that produced a rainbow at the end.
 
No matter how may rainbows I see, no matter how old I get, seeing a new rainbow will never get old. 
 

I love storms like this. There are several clichés that revolve around rain:  in every life some rain must fall, April shows bring May flowers, one can’t have sun without a little rain, etc.  Many songs have been written with the rain theme; Can You Stand The Rain, I Can See Clearly Now (the rain is gone). But a storm like this is a great metaphor. I’ve written a few poems (between 1992 and 1996) which I am posting separately.
 
But as I said, I love storms like this. To see the raw power of nature unleash herself is well, awesome. And in those moments, I’m blinded from everything; everything is a blur, being washed away by sheets of water just getting thrown at me from every direction. I love standing outside in a wicked downpour…to me it’s freeing to just let the water soak me and run down my face and into my eyes. And I can scream as loudly and cry as hard as I need to, and no one can hear or see me go through what I need to go through. 
 

And then, just as fast as it came, it rushes off to continue its ferocious path. And in those first few moments, everything seems silent. Peaceful. Birds poke out and start chirping. The sun comes back out. The warmth of the sun soaks into me as I’m still dripping wet. Life feels renewed. Showered, fresh, clean; ready to start moving forward again. And then…up in the sky…first faint, but getting brighter…a rainbow. The colorful reminder, a confirmation, that everything is fine and a-okay. And I can’t help but smile. And everyone seems to stop and point in a collective moment of wow.  And then that rainbow…its task complete, it’s message sent…fades away into the blue sky…
 

Life:  ups and downs.  Pleasure and pain. Stormclouds and rainbows.

 

Related poetry:

http://jemacedopoetry.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-sky-turned-grey.html 

http://jemacedopoetry.blogspot.com/2011/05/sudden-storm-of-city-night.html 

http://jemacedopoetry.blogspot.com/2011/05/lighthouse.html 

http://jemacedopoetry.blogspot.com/2011/05/driving.html 

Dogma

...is one of my absolute favorite movies, which I had the pleasure of watching yesterday.  Easter Sunday.  Below is a plot summary from imbd.com: 

Two mischievous angels who were laid off by God and are given the boot. Finding themselves banned to Wisconscin, they set out for New Jersey where they find a loophole that will allow them to re-enter heaven. The only problem is it will destroy humanity. An abortion clinic worker with a special heritage, a wisecracking 13th apostle, a stripper/muse, and mischievous mall rats Jay and Silent Bob band together to stop them.

This movie is intended to be pure fictional comedy...but as with a lot of comedy, there is a baseline of truth, which is then exaggerated to create the joke. To me, this is one of those thought-provoking comedies (and of course, my two favorite thought=provoking comedians star in this:  George Carlin and Chris Rock.)

I pulled some interesting thought-provoking quotes from the movie.  I'm not going to expand on these quotes at this point although some day I may explore a little farther...

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Pressure

(suggested background music pairing:  Pressure, Billy Joel)

There is a lot of pressure out there in the world:  the pressure of makings meet, of work, or finding work; the pressure of doing the right thing, of not ending up in the wrong situation; the pressure of friends and family and strife and struggles, of health and maintenance, tire pressure, air pressure, pressure cooking. OK…poor attempt at humor. But with all of this pressure we’re under, I have one question:

Why do we add pressure to ourselves?

Mike-On-A-Bike: A Phoenixville Legend

(suggested background music pairing:  The Theme from Pee Wee's Big Adventure)

One of my friends posted the following on Facebook tonight:

"Got an iced coffee on the way to work today. I saw Mike on a Bike, NO BIKE!! I asked him about it, and he explained due to hip and knee pain he doesn't ride much anymore. It's like when Greenman lost his puppy dog..."

And one of the comment replies was:

"Last year he told me when his birthday was and gave me a piece of paper with his address on it and asked me to send him a birthday card. So I did. He's a Phoenixville legend:)"

And, completely separate, there was a Facebook poll launched about two months ago:  “Who is a Phoenixville Icon?” Mike-On-A-Bike is the clear winner with 37% of the vote, followed by Frieda’s Store with 28%, with over 500 votes. Mike-On-A-Bike is such an icon in town; there is an active Facebook page devoted to him.

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For my non-Phoenixville readers, let me explain; and for my Phoenixville readers, let’s take a trip down memory lane… Mike-On-A-Bike is a mentally slow grown man who rode his bike around town all the time. (Side note, someday I’ll rant about political correctness; using the phrase “mentally slow” seems awkward to me.) It was a bright aqua blue bike, one of the older style bikes, not a modern-looking 10-speed. He had an abnormally high-pitched voice, and he would wave to everyone he passed with a big smile on his face, and most times would say “Hi, my name is Mike!” 

A Day In The Life of My iPod

I hear the crystal raindrops fall

On the window down the hall

And it becomes the morning dew

Must be getting early

Clocks are running late

Paint by Number morning sky

Looks so phony

Dawn is breaking everywhere

Light a candle, curse the glare

Draw the curtains I don't care,  

‘Cause It's all right

My tea's gone cold,
I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all

the morning rain clouds up my window 
and I can't see at all

And even if I could it'd all be grey, 
but your picture on my wall

it reminds me that it's not so bad, 
it's not so bad

I drank too much last night, got bills to pay, 
my head just feels in pain

I missed the bus and there'll be hell today, 
I'm late for work again

and even if I'm there, they'll all imply 
that I might not last the day

and then you call me and it's not so bad,
it's not so bad and

Just A Few Questions

When is enough enough? Or when does it become too much? Or too little? What if this doesn’t happen? What if that does happen? Is there enough time? Or is there too much time to kill? Is the grass greener on the other side? Or is the grass dying under my feet? When do I say yes, and when should I say no? How long is too long? Or way too short? Or fast?  Or slow?  

What am I going to do? What have I done? What haven’t I done? What can I do? What could I possibly do? What can’t I do? Or can I? Or even should i? What are they doing? Should they be doing that? Should I care what they do? DO they care what I do? Does what I do change what they do? Is it done? Do I keep going? Do I stop?  What if it should be done? And if it should, what if I can’t? Or what if I can, but it shouldn’t be done?  

Which way do I go? Should I stay or should I go? Do I look up? Down? Back? Both ways? Do I wait? Can I wait? Where is my place? What is my role? My niche? Where do I belong? Where do I want to be? What if they’re not the same place? Am I in either place? Are both places the same? What if they’re not? Am I in at least one of those places? Where am I? How do I get there? Do I ask for directions? What if I get lost? What if I can’t be found? Or should I just go? Or stay?  

Who am I? Who do I want to be? Who was I? What am I? Do I know me? Do you know me? Does it matter that you know me? How many people know me? How many is too many? Not enough? What does it mean if it’s too many? Or not enough? Am I funny? Smart? Liked? Loved? What defines me?  What if I can’t define me? Who should define me? Should anyone define me? Does anyone define me? Do I need to be defined?  Who cares?  Should I care? What if I don’t care?

Why are there so many questions?  Do all of these questions have answers?  What if these questions don’t have answers?  Will everything come to an end? Will life keep moving forward?  Why do we spend so much time on asking so many questions? Are all of these questions a waste of time?  Did I just write a blog of all questions?  Yes I did.  Oops…that last sentence wasn’t a question, so the answer is…no, I didn’t.

A Friend's Story Of Small Town Politics

There is a friend of mine, a published author, who has found herself in a crazy situation.


As the story begins...a few months ago, she contacted the police department in her current hometown of Spring City, PA, a sleepy little town, a former blue-collar town where the industry moved out years ago and nothing really moved in.  (For background music, play Billy Joel's Allentown...) She contacted the department not with an issue, but to ask for help in her research for her next novel. She struck acquaintanceships with the female police chief and one of the male cops, separately and over different time-frames. (As this is a small town, this represented about half of the police force.) The chief was particularly interested in this process, as she expressed a desire to attempt to start writing herself. My friend has shared with me over these past few months, some stories of the things she was learning.


And then, at the beginning of March, what happened is outlined in this local newspaper article:  http://pottsmerc.com/articles/2011/04/05/news/doc4d9a8e73944f3739460178.txt?viewmode=fullstory

And here is a separate article, not directly related:  http://pottsmerc.com/articles/2011/04/13/news/doc4da50515ea7c1592771767.txt?viewmode=fullstory

And in response to the second article is the following posted comment:  

"[The chief] can comment on a letter she wrote to resign but she can't comment on a letter she signed to fire someone? An investigation is immediately announced by [Council President] to be done...to discover who leaked documents that exist, but none of them will investigate or speak on documents that allegedly don't exist related to an officer getting fired? [Council President] is quick to say he and borough council stand behind Sherman 100% because she wanted to resign and someone leaks it, but won't blink an eye when she fires someone for giving her friend/former mayor who hired her a ticket. This is the same council president that said on record he wanted to fill an empty council seat with another Republican and one he wanted to see sit in it so he didn't want to waste time by opening the vacancy to the public?..."

Getting Away or Getting Back?

(suggested background music pairings:  Getaway, Earth Wind & Fire; Fly Away, Lenny Kravitz)

This past weekend, I was finally able to get away for a little bit to roam and explore. The weather was sunny, and warmer than it’s been in quite a while. On Saturday in particular, the only plan I had was to get out, so about 10AM, after eating breakfast, I hopped in the car and hit the road.

Now, I didn’t have any particular destination in mind. In fact, I didn’t even have a preferred direction in mind. Nor did I have a specific time frame in mind either. In fact, I had allowed myself the possibility of spending the night in a hotel if I ended up driving far enough that I would be too tired to drive all the way back – or if I discovered a place where I wanted to stay and explore a little more in depth. That ended up not happening (this time), but the possibility was definitely open. 

Living in Rochester NY, I really can’t go north – at least until they invent cars that double as boats. So I headed southwest, and after about 45 minutes in ended up in a rural county I hadn’t been in before. And for me, that’s saying something, because I go out and explore often. Being in a car out on the open road is my solitude, my element; I’ve written about this in general before and I’ll dive into this more later in this post.  

Free Writing: Apathy and Self-Criticism

Since it’s been a while since I’ve written anything…I’m going to try some free writing. 

From Wikipedia:   Free writing — also called stream-of-consciousness writing — is a prewriting technique in which a person writes continuously for a set period of time without regard to spelling, grammar, or topic. It produces raw, often unusable material, but helps writers overcome blocks of apathy and self-criticism. Unlike brainstorming where ideas are simply listed, in free writing one writes sentences to form a paragraph about whatever comes to mind.

I’m somewhat familiar to the concept of free writing, as I decided tonight to do just that. As I said, it’s been a while since I posted anything here, and really that’s because I’ve been in a funk, or out-of-balance, or a little overwhelmed with all that is going on. So I typed that first sentence above, and then decided to look up the definition of free writing on Wikipedia. 

In that definition, a word really stands out:  apathy. So, now, let’s look up the definition of apathy.