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Life Arts    H3'ed 8/12/08

The Real Olympics. We are in them.

Message mikel paul

Ramble begins here. 

My older son works PT. He’s had 10 months to get FT and/or go to school and work PT. He’s still fiddlin’ and I and my lovely wife are still waiting. August 26th, if he is doing neither, he will be told to leave. He has a choice. And he will choose. We love you son, but you’re a big boy now. A man. Get it on. Either way, ‘easy’ not included.

            My younger love child is all the rage on the female homing button. Works in our store when he feels it is in his interest. Privileges fly away. Still, he moseys. On August 26th he will watch his brother choose. A lesson. I hope. We love you too son. Wake up.

           

            From ’04 to ’07 our family medical was $900/mo. Add to that, we paid out of pocket for nothing serious doctor visits, tests and tune ups an additional $5K and you have the grand total of almost $50K in four years. Broken? I’d say totaled.

 

            In California, we have a governor and legislature who lead by asking everyone else to set an example. This concept is quite popular in all government circles. It has spread everywhere.

 

            The Olympics are here again. Millions are enjoying and watching. Want to know why? Because deep down, most folks love to watch athletes ‘do their best’. Simple. But the show is not so. Most of us love the spirit of the Olympics. NBC is right about that. I would even say most of us, even though we do love ‘our guys and gals’ are moved by anyone from any country that sincerely ‘does their best’. For a colored medal. Or not. As much as we pay for and buy X vs. Y, the basic tenet of the games is our love of the competition and the individual effort we are allowed to watch. But throw in all the political spin and made up morality and we get to have enemies too. How lovely we generate hate from where there is none.

            And now we have Russia vs. Georgia. How nice. Another versus.

 

            STOP IT!!!

 

            Get off the damn TV, get off the damn phone, get off the Dell, and get off the merry-go-round for a minute. Grab two cups. Make some ‘Joe’. Now. Write this down. You may haven’t done this in a while, so I don’t want you to get it backwards.

            Take those two cups of whatever you ‘have’. Do not worry that it isn’t Blue Mountain from Jamaica or some such. Just ‘House Joe’ will do. From last night even. What you’re about to ‘do’ is important. The ‘brand’ is not. Now, walk over to your neighbor’s house, or doublewide, or apartment, or condo, or ’65 Dodge or the underpass nearest. Knock. Assuming they are home, offer them one of those wonderful cups of conversation juice. Ask to sit down. Usually another human will say “OK”. Once you are down with them you could say something like “How are things?” That will usually lead to a miraculous exchange that most likely will culminate with an understanding that they are experiencing a lot of the same stuff you are. You may even learn something new, laugh a bit and feel good inside because you took a minute to care about more than what you think it’s all about. You also may find out you have more than a few differences of opinion. Our government may be interested in these differences because they want very much to keep us safe. But as neighbors I think you can, get this………… work it out. You may even be able to disagree and be ok with it. It’s amazing.

                       

            Government. What a concept. Mandates. Fear. Policy. Good guy. Bad guy. With us or against us. It’s everywhere. Gangs of bullies vs. the people. WE. In Iraq, Iran, the Congo, Darfur, Tibet, Georgia. Need I draw a map? I’m out of pins.

            Governments as we know them do not work for We.

            Alternative?

            Keep it local. First look where you are. Your feet and zip code will give you a hint. The ones you share your stuff with, your main squeeze, your wife, husband, the one you sleep with, work with, live near to. Make it a point to talk with them. I cannot stress the importance of what staying local means.

 

            Your kids. Our kids. Talk to them. As odd as I am, and as someday I hope my boys will remember how nuts I made them by talking with them, it was more about taking the time to than anything. We goes on.

            I repeat. Local. Stay local. The globals do not like local. Some of us will be taken out. Millions have been already and millions more as we speak. Now I’m ticked. Give me a minute.

 

            Ok. Sorry, not any better.

 

But I will say one more thing.

I write to express, not to convince or condemn.

My vision of our world up to this point, is just mine . What I ‘do’ outweighs any words I have said or will ever say. That is the trigger. Do.

I love my country, but I care about We more than anything. And, as corny as it sounds, and it is very corny, there are more than a few here at OpEd that I would answer the call for when called on. If I knew you were close enough in Nor Cal, the op for ‘Joe’ would be in my mind and in the pot. Want to know why?

            Because WE must take care of each other. Be there, not over there. Otherwise what have we, but what we already have? And that’s not working too well except for the buttheads that tell us it is the best we can do. No, it is not. We can do the best we can do. We are in the real Olympics my friends. It's called life. Ours. We must do our best. For each other.

            The Olympics? Bird’s Nest. All show.

Want the real Olympics? Me and Tom Murphy. Tug-o War. No medals. As good as it gets.

Mandate that.Vent over.

peace

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Mikel Paul Social Media Pages: Facebook page url on login Profile not filled in       Twitter page url on login Profile not filled in       Linkedin page url on login Profile not filled in       Instagram page url on login Profile not filled in

61 years on this jumpin' green sphere. Musician. Own and operate a music store to help kids find a possible life long friend. I believe in the soul and the search. Two sons. Published songwriter. play bass, piano and gut string guitar. there are no (more...)
 
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