Archive for the ‘POETRY and PROSE’ Category

coeur d alene summer scenes

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007

kidd island bay elusive turtle by kayak (chris winter)

in-waiting in flower basket

SQUIRREL ATTACK DURING HIDE N’ GO SEEK FATHER-DAUGHTER’S BONDING STORY

Wednesday, June 20th, 2007
All my daughter’s friends were over for their little party.
These eight or so girls, all about 7 years old were playing crazily. You see wintertime had broken in Minnesota, and the summer was near.  But it was one of those days you live for there, vibrant blue sky, gentle breeze, and life’s passions greening up.
Well, the little girls had played on the playground equipment for quite awhile, and in the sand making “things.”   They were drawing chalk style hopscotch boards on the sidewalks, and had jumped rope without any bruises.   Such a great day, such harmony in family and friends with nature watching.
My daughter and her little friends decided it was time to play “hide n’ go seek."   No one better to hide than dad.   Their collective eyes leaked with sincerity of request.   How could any father turn such princesses and angels down for this next fun event, on such a great day, in such prime weather, in Minnesota ?
The "search and rescue" group of small girls began to count.  
ONE. TWO.
Meanwhile, my scurrying about reminded me to tell them to, “Count Loud” and “NO peeking."    They, in unison, guaranteed this with giggles and laughter.
THREE.   FOUR.
My eye scanned the topography.   Where to hide?   How long would it be to hide quickly, yet stealth like?   Scanning the local yard’s horizon, a brilliant idea now could become reality.   Ha ha ha.   Those little ones will never see me there.
FIVE.
Quickly, quietly, and with ease my legs jumped up into the tree.   This tree was strong.   It could hold an adult, even a hidden stealthy adult.   Lots of those huge Minnesota leaves that would cover all the color of the “hide n’ go seek” secret agent.   So covert.
SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT.
Hurriedly my arms pulled my body into location, in the tree.   Knowing how to quickly judge and climb a tree was like riding a bicycle or swimming to me.   All those hours building huge tree houses in the skies of tall ash or elm trees now would pay off.   All those limb evaluations of size versus strength and caliber were emblazoned in this climber.   This was a confident spot.
NINE.
As my arms lifted me into position, with my sitting spot almost prepared, the little girls were starting to rustle.   Shifting my seat gently as not to be heard by doing a pull-up on the branch above, suddenly my stealthy world changed.
TEN.
As my pull-up ended, my line of sight was slightly diagonally upward.   A loud noise, a squeal.   Then heard of buffalo, a covey of quail, and a wild horse stampede came right at me! My ears were frozen on the word, “TEN” that the little princesses had yelled.   My eyes were beyond frozen to see eye to eye with it.

Squirrel attack !!!   

Yes, man to female animal, face to face, and eye to eye there it was.  No time for a counterattack.   It was cold.   It was heartless.   The attack of the mother squirrel was like no other.   Brutally shown teeth, larger than a shark – claws drawn, sharper than the griz.   Lightening speed, out of no where.   An ICBM loaded and launched at the intruder.   No early warning system for the unprepared “hide n’ go seeker.”   BAM.   The war was on.   Knowing my face had been hit, a cover was needed.  No where to hide now.   Too far up to jump, as a youth might attempt.   Age and wisdom prevented that action quickly.   Swiping away the blood, my fight was limitless but so ill directed.   Not once was there a hit on the enemy despite readjusting my coordinates while in the leaves.   Retreat was the only option.   Cut the losses.   Sooner, not later.   This mother wasn’t retreating from the nest she had so preciously prepared for the family.

The gaggle of girls was coming down the sidewalk.   They too had heard the noisy breach of the stealthy sacred safe place.   It was over…almost.

The “hide n’ go seeker” now did what all attacked, retreating, and severely mentally and physically injured “hide n’ go seekers” do.   Swing out of the tree.   With two great leaps of caliber-calculating swings, my feet hit terra firma.   Solid.   Looking around quickly, the attack was over.  

All the faithful players of the “hide n’ go seek” family game came running. My position was still of a prepared martial arts stance, ready to counter strike as if a secondary push might occur.

“We see you,” they all yelled.   The girls approached quickly to prove they had seen me.   But as they received their victory in game, they realized what was different.   Suddenly, they all began screaming at the top of their choral lungs, high pitched in fear, yelling and running away faster and faster.  My daughter said, "Daddy, you have blood,” and she ran away too, to the safety of the flock.   Reaching up to my face, it was warm, and slippery.   Looking at my hand, realizing my sweat from the environmental battle was not red – it was blood.   Wiping away the blood from my hand to my pants, the flow of blood continued.   A painted warrior of sorts.

My wife came outside to see how things were going with the “hide n’ go seek” game.   She had come around a corner just as the girls were approaching. “My goodness,” she said, “Why did you fly out of that tree…to scare the girls…They were yelling so loud…And YOU looked like a gorilla flying out of the tree… AND you are bleeding!”   “What happened?”  
Re-living it…worse….
 

As my eyes close yet to this day, that mother squirrel is in my view forever.   Everyone survived. A family moment. A father-daughter memory forever.  And now you know why my 20 something daughter sends reminders once in a while, and why she sent me a shirt with a squirrel on it that states the rules:  “ADVICE FROM A SQUIRREL.”  

SQUIRRELS ON THE ATTACK …NOT ONLY MARMOTS – Could it be a conspiracy?

Tuesday, June 19th, 2007

The raging attacks by squirrels continue.  You probably read last week where the squirrel attacked three people until a crutch-weapon-carrying elder took the squirrel out.  Now my daughter has sent me this….Read on…and I will try to tell the story of WHY my daughter would send her dad this story from her friend…and a shirt last year…."Advice from a Squirrel"………….

 

 

 

 

 

SQUIRRELS ARE ON THE ATTACK, OMG

 

"Yeah… somehow I managed to do just that yesterday. Ok so I was taking some friends up to Robie creek right? Running around, swimming and having a good time.

I was on my way to hike up the mountain talkin to a bud when there it was!This crazy little gopher thing that looked up at me like I had dug up its winter supply of nuts and had them hidden in my trunks. I did what any warm blooded tough guy would do in that situation. I froze. I tried calming it down by talking to it but it would have none of my smooth banter.

So in a desperate attempt to prove my innocents to the creature,  dropped my shorts and showed I had not stolen his uhhh… *cough* yeah. That didn't work as I had planned. He came at me with the fury of six rabid spider monkeys. So my buddy and I grabbed the only weapons we had available to us. Pinecones. I'm a good shot with a pinecone, but that little b*%$#* was better. Tagged me right in the ear and I went down like a sack of taters bleeding all over. My buddy took off running and I had to fight it off and crawl back to my car."

creature – 1

me – 0

"Little does that creature know, I play best of 3!"

AND dr j's STORY TO FOLLOW LATER !

PACK RATS AND SAVERS – CLUTTERERS ADDICTION

Friday, April 20th, 2007

 

Have you ever wondered why you saved something?  You find the dust accumulation, like fresh snow on the sidewalk, on the old book or stack of papers.  You can’t live without it, or them, or the files, or the boxes of the papers or files or smaller boxes.  You absolutely know, beyond any shadow of a doubt – that you, yes you, will indeed, one day, not soon, but some day – require that item to be whole.  Wow….

Why do the savers do this?  I remember walking into an office of a professor once.  Little did I remember of our conversation.  Overwhelming amazement and disbelief warped my mind as the mountains of papers sat from the floor to the ceiling.  Not only papers, but also the books, the binders, the boxes of books, and the boxes of binders.  Why would he need a conference syllabus from 1979? 

That little seashell gift from your Auntie is still valuable and taking up space not only on the mantle, but also in your brain.  She gave that to you in 1960!

Clutter is intimate.  Clutter represents the untapped resource of the final idea.  Clutter is the soul of what can become.  All those articles neatly filed, catalogued, scanned into a progression of finding it someday.  All the unread, partially read, outdated books that may become part of your next book, or writing, or an editorial. 

Possibly the worst offending clutterers?  Certainly teachers hit the top of the list, at all levels.  Hobbiest are great clutterers, never know when you need that spool or dried up glue.  Some of that remaining blue yarn could become the hair of that unique doll for the grandchildren.  But everyone is a clutterer. 

Your next dinner party, social engagement, or backyard barbe will prove my point.  Just look around.  Why is the broken golf ornament still on his desk?  Big Bird finger puppet – thought he went out years ago?  What’s behind that door?

Offices, garages, and closets make great hideaways for the clutterer’s calmness.  But overall the problem rests somewhere between poverty, obsessive-compulsive disorder, ADD, and depression, all mixed for normality to hypomania.  Within all of this, is creativity.  Clutterers are creative, like the addictive mind.  They find the place, the time, the hidden capacity to make the world around them in the mirror look normal.  But the reflection from the mirror tells a different truth and perspective.

Now, not all clutterers, savers, and pack rats deserve such painful insight.  But as the time train continues the “eternal project” remains incomplete for another day. 

The rules:

1.  Experiment with throwing something away.  Calculate in advance how you will feel, then, in a day or so, compare your reality with what you calculated.  Pain or gain?

2.  Start clearing by starting with smaller boxes of items, a drawer, a desk, a closet.  Can’t eat the elephant with one bite.

3.  Feel good about donating to others who might use it, like Goodwill or other charitable agencies.

4.  With the modern day video cameras, photograph the things that represent memories and get rid of the junk.   It is the memory we clutch to, not really the item.

5.  Talk with your family, friends, colleagues.  They do it too.  Every family has one !

6.  A nice compromise for families that distress over the junk…make a memory box.

7.  Remember, only the feelings are real, the uncompleted task is still part of the soul. 

8.  Professional counseling is required to break the grip of this strange yet sometimes funny process of the human spirit.

 

Well, today, I was going to go find a cheap storage unit.  Which stack of paper was that ad in?  Which box?   Which room?  Oh, ya, in the bathroom…oh, it was at work…….

 

 

(adapted from The Magazine, 2007 Jan. with significant commentary by CastMD)

USS NEW YORK BUILT TO SALUTE THE FALLEN

Saturday, April 14th, 2007

 

USS New York

 

It was built with 24 tons of scrap steel from the World Trade Center.

It is the fifth in a new class of warship – designed for missions that include special operations against terrorists. It will carry a crew of 360 sailors and 700 combat-ready Marines to be delivered ashore by helicopters and assault craft.

Steel from the World Trade Center was melted down in a foundry in Amite, LA to cast the ship's bow section. When it was poured into the molds on Sept. 9, 2003, "those big rough steelworkers treated it with total reverence," recalled Navy Capt. Kevin Wensing, who was  there. "It was a spiritual moment for everybody there."

 

USS NEW YORK

 

Junior Chavers, foundry operations manager, said that when the trade center steel first arrived, he touched it with his hand and the "hair on my neck stood up." "It had a big meaning to it for all of us," he said. "They knocked us down. They can't keep us down. We're going to be back."

The ship's motto? "Never Forget"  And we should not !

HAPPY EASTER FROM CASTMD

Sunday, April 8th, 2007

The Cost of Cremated Ashes: Dad Nose Best A New Cocaine Substitute – Keith Richard’s Marketing Expertise’ – a parody of abuse

Thursday, April 5th, 2007

THE ROLLING STONE'S KEITH RICHARDS MAYBE SNORTED HIS DAD THE TABLOIDS HAVE COMMENTED AND THERE SEEMS TO BE CONTROVERSY REGARDING WHETHER IT WAS TRUE OR NOT.  CastMD CONTINUES TO DIG INTO THIS ISSUE WITH CLARITY AND REASON.  BUT INQUIRING BRAINIACS WANT TO KNOW THE NUMBERS……..SO HERE THEY ARE ! 

Theory:

Average cremation remains = 3700 grams

Crackdowns on producers and smugglers of cocaine in Colombia and the United States have caused the wholesale price of the drug to rise sharply, according to officials of the Federal Drug Enforcement Agency. A kilogram, 2.2 pounds, of cocaine that cost a dealer $15,000 six months ago now costs $25,000 to $30,000, Frank Chellino, a spokesman for the agency's Miami office, said. (NYT 4-5-07)

 

The common street selling price of cocaine hydrochloride powder is $80-$100 per gram. The purity of the drug is TYPICALLY diluted by dealers wanting to increase the volume of the cocaine to multiply profits. Popular "cutting" agents include lactose, inositol, mannitol, lidocaine, and even cornstarch, talcum powder, or sugar.  NOW YOU CAN CUT WITH DAD'S ASHES !!!

 

 

 

 

 Freebase cocaine is cocaine without its water-soluble component, or "base." It is prepared by prepping cocaine hcl with an alkali, and separating the cocaine from its impurities. The preparation of freebase cocaine involves the use of highly flammable solvents such as ether. "Crack" or "rock" cocaine is the street name given to freebase cocaine processed from cocaine hydrochloride to a base, then using a base and heating it to remove the hydrochloride. The resulting mixture is allowed to harden, then broken into small pieces or rocks, which can be easily smoked in a pipe. The term "crack" refers to the crackling sound made when the mixture is smoked.

Therefore:

30,000 dollars divided by 1000 grams is 30 dollars a gm wholesale.  Yet the retail prices vary, but about the 100 dollars a gram retail street value.

3700 grams of cremation remains is 370,000 dollars of cocaine equivalency in weight. 

The most popular method of use is to separate the powder into fine "lines" of approximately 1/4 gram, 4-6 inches long. A small straw is then used to "snort" the cocaine into the nose.

3700 divided by 1/4 gm per line is:

14,800 lines of cremation-dad cocaine-substitute ! 

Now, a direct cremation cost noted on the web was:

Direct Cremation Service : $625.00*

Therefore:

Cost of cremation divided by 3700 grams of cocaine substitute is 625 / 3700 = 0.1689 dollar/gram

SUMMARY:

IF YOU BUY COCAINE YOU WILL BE PAYING 80-100 DOLLARS RETAIL FOR ONE GRAM

USE CREMATION-DAD COCAINE-SUBSTITUTE  AND YOU WILL PAY ONLY 17 CENTS PER GRAM

IF YOU DO DRUGS, YOU DO THE MATH…BUT DON'T SNORT DAD-SNOW. 

 

 

 

GOING GREEN – AN ESSAY – THE WASTE BY THE PHARMA INDUSTRY AND ADVERTISING COMPANIES – WHERE IS AL GORE ON THIS?

Monday, April 2nd, 2007

Did you ever get a sample or starter pak of medicine from your doctor?  Usually, the pak will have one or two pills in a blister, nuclearbomb proof wrap, and then boxed with some expensive advertising.  When is enough, enough !  To top it off, the little pill in the blister pak in the little box is one of five or six other little highly advertised little boxes in a yet bigger box.  Then comes the literature that is mandated by the FDA to be put in each box or on the blister pak itself.  Then, with the leaving of the little boxes in the bigger boxes, pages and pages of highly detailed literature is presented and left with the doctor.  Only God or Buddha would actually know how much of this stuff ends up in the garbage.

 

And now, with the internet, WebMD, CastMD, Mayo Clinic, and other portals of Net-formation, why is all this waste appealing to the advertisers, the pharma companies, and the FDA subcommittees? 

If the waste would stop, more medicines could be used by clinics to help offset the high costs to patients for starter paks, courses of medicines, or to give to those without drug benefits…a rising number !  How about just a 5-10 point update on the med instead of pages of infitessimal fine print squished on multi-folded paper…What do you think FDA? 

Well, I hope Al and his Green friends read my essay today.  Maybe he could trade some of those "Green CO2 impression stamps" he bought to offset his private jet and give them to the FDA and the Pharma companies.  That way, the universe would be in drug balance, and we don't have to worry about trees, water, air, and the uninsured and underinsured.  ZZZZOOOOOOOMMMMMM, I hear his jet now………