Usually updated on Sundays
Mike Moore is a peripheral visionary. He can see into the future, but only at the edges. (my thanks to Steven Wright)
My Two Cents Worth:
The First Rainbow
One bright summer day when all the flowers of many beautiful colors were nodding their heads in the breeze the Great Spirit heard one of the older flowers saying to another:
“I wonder where we go when winter comes. We make the earth a beautiful place to live in. Will there be a happy hunting ground for us?
The Great Spirit thought about this and decided that they should not die. Now after a cooling shower we may look up in the sky and see all the pretty-colored flowers of the past year making a beautiful rainbow across the sky.
Sioux Legend
I was reminded about a school age joke: How many gallons did Christopher Columbus use to cross the ocean? Three, the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. Ok, so it’s actually galleons but you get the idea. Chris was getting great milage in 1492.
Now we’re all thinking about gasoline at $3, or more, per gallon but it’s still cheap compared to Juicy Juice. Juciy Juice is $5 per gallon when it’s on sale, goat milk is over $12 per gallon, cow milk is close to $4 per gallon and I shutter to think what fancy French water costs per gallon. Even the cheap bottled water runs $10 per gallon at the coffee shops.
While it’s true that very few people buy goat milk 20 gallons at a time ($240 to fill up at the pump) that really doesn't change what it costs. It’s all just a perception problem.
In Europe they sell fuel by the liter, and the pump price looks a lot more appealing. It doesn't change the price, only our perception.
So I propose we begin selling gasoline by the quart (since we’re anti-metric) and the pump price will be 75¢! That sounds great, doesn't it?
Not long ago I was at a presentation by Hawk Quest (www.hawkquest.org) where they were showing off some mighty fine birds.
During the presentation I learned that Harris Hawks are successful on a hunt about 20% of the time - for every 5 tries they catch one rabbit. It got me thinking about my own success rate.
I sat down and I added up all the taxes and interest I pay during the year. These are the rabbits that get away, since I don’t benefit from them but I have to expend energy and resources to pursue them.
I figured 15% Federal income tax, 15.4% for my Social Security liability, 4% state tax where I live, 7.5% sales tax and came up with 41.9%. Add to that the gasoline tax (44¢ per gallon for 2000 gallons a year) and the interest on my loans (as a percentage of my income) and it comes to 58%.
Fifty-eight percent of what I earn in a year goes to someone else. While I’m about twice as successful as a Harris Hawk, I’m way behind the rabbit in percent of income I get to keep.
How about you?
In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king? Right?
Nope, he’s a pariah, he is misunderstood and ostracized because he is afflicted with some bizarre visions that no one in his world has the framework to understand.
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In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don’t try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.
- Tao Te Ching
Most people live their lives looking backwards
They can clearly see their past accomplishments, awards and beautiful people they have dated.
How many of you have a boat? Have you ever steered it by looking back at the wake? Did you notice how crooked the wake is, and then try to straighten it by using the wake to steer by?
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“It Aint Easy Being Green” - Kermit the Frog
Heather Keith wants a Green Built House. She wants her house to be easy on the environment in both its construction and use. The question: are green materials and practices really green?
Heather's Architect, Melissa Kyer of SunQuest Architecture, chose materials based on the environmental impact , recycled content , sustainability and embodied energy of the material.
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Dinosaurs and Conquistadors descend on the Purgatoire River
I’ve long had an interest in Southeast Colorado. As the maddening crowds take Horace Greeley's advice, I’m drawn to the quiet canyons hidden in the rolling hills of the Comanche National Grasslands.
I’d spent a little time in the Springfield section of the Comanche National Grassland, but it wasn’t until I read Eric Peterson’s “How to survive...” in the Westword summer guide that I had a new destination. Picket Wire Canyon.
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Refund? Rebate? What’s the difference man!
Well if you’re talking about TABOR, Colorado and Ref. 23, there’s a lot of difference.
Lets start with those pesky taxes, you know, the ones the state takes out of your paycheck? If they take more than they were suppose to take then you get a “refund”. They are just giving you back what they over-took.
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“...for customer service, press 7”
Imagine a time in the future when you call your cell phone company, and instead of speaking with someone who memorized a script, you end up with someone who can program custom features into your phone.
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Back in the good ole days, I flew a helicopter for the Park service in Alaska.
I was assigned to a fire pro team, and the really cool part about that was we got the best silverware. No kidding, I had this great soup spoon with the words “fire pro” engraved in the handle. Whenever we were on a fire, we would scoff at the heli-tack teams and their plastic dinner ware.
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Ring! Ring! Hello! It’s the past calling!
I lived in Louisiana for several years. I even managed to make a few friends and have some good times. I keep two of the friends, and memories of all the good times (I’m mental-blocking the rest).
That call was from one of the friends. When I met Karla she was suffering through a bad stretch of life. I was fresh off the boat and looking for fun. I used to sweep her up in the moment and carry her off to some fantasy outing from my imagination. I was trying to impress her. She was trying to survive.
The mixing of these two philosophies made for quite a show. The end result for me was frustration. For her it was a look to the future, to the possibility of doing better than surviving. We’re still great friends. She tells me I helped her out of a bad spot, I’m happy about that. It helps ease the pain.
I’ve done a great many things with my life. I’ve punched cows, flown helicopters, driven trucks, been a ski bum, and helped some friends. I didn’t think I had finished any of these things. I mean finished in a sense that someone would come along and say; “Well, that’s been done.” I always felt I should have done more, if only I didn’t have to leave.
There is a line in a Jimmy Buffett song; “I ate the last mango in Paris, took the last plane out of Saigon, sailed the first glass boat to China, and Jimmy there’s still so much to be done.” It didn’t mean that much to me until I realized, I know the man who flew the last helicopter from the roof of the US embassy in Saigon.
There’s still so much to be done is the key. The man who flew off that building for the last time didn’t quite there. He’s still flying people off buildings, and saving lives.
I now realize there are many things I have finished, but more importantly, I’m not finished by having done them.
I’m reminded of a story about a Japanese furniture maker. Tito makes the most beautiful pieces from the trees harvested in his area.
The colors & textures of his furniture make them highly sought after. He divides his time between making furniture, using the techniques handed down to him through generations of his family, and harvesting the timber used to make the furniture
The remarkable thing is, he’s building furniture from timber his grandfather felled and left to dry 40 years ago. His father built furniture from lumber his grandfather felled and Tito’s grandson may someday make a fine piece from the timer he’s harvesting today.
The fruits of our labors may be realized by our grandchildren IF we have the foresight to leave them something beautiful to work with.
That’s all...
Why The Leaves Fall
Many, many moons ago when the world was young, the grass and flower folk were enjoying the beautiful summer weather. But as the days went by, the weather became colder and colder.
The grass and flowers grew sad, for they had nothing to protect them from the sharp cold. When it seemed there was no hope for living, The Great Spirit came to their aid. The Great Spirit said the leaves of the trees should fall to the ground and spread a soft, warm blanket over the tender roots that were about to freeze. To repay the trees their kindness, The Great Spirit gave them one last bright array of beauty.
Sioux Legend
Dave was in a complete panic when he called “They won’t let me change anything!” he said. “I paid for a custom house but the only thing they’ll let me change is the paint color!”
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I lost my job.
I had it this morning when I left for work. I had it when I sat down at my desk.
Before lunch my boss called me into his office for a chat. When I returned to my desk it was gone. I asked the lady in the next cubicle if she had seen it, but she said no, she hadn’t.
I’m not really sure why I’m worried about it. It wasn’t a new one. I’d gotten it from someone else a few months ago. He’d gotten another, so he gave me a good deal on his old one.
I’ve had a dozen or so over the years. Some were nice shinny new ones, some were rotten disgusting things no one else wanted. I’ve almost always had one though. That’s what I guess I miss, just having one around.
It’s comforting to have a good one around in the same way that it’s comforting to have my cats around. They give me a feeling of security in these troubled times.
Tomorrow I’ll go out and find another. This time I think I’ll see if I can find a new one, one that’s still in the box with instructions and a warranty card.
Here Linus! Come here boy! Good kitty! Good kitty...
Every time I hear the word pawed-cast I imagine a brown tabby in hip waders standing in the roaring fork with a fly rod in his paw, tickling the shallow water in search of a meal.
That’s all...
Write a byline. That’s what she wants me to do. Byline, byline. Dictionary.
Biography: a written history of a persons life. Byline; My whole life in one sentence. This from a man whose resume runs seventeen pages.
Let’s see now. I’ve been a child, a tire repairman, and a truck driver. I’ve punched cows with my best friend Kurt, flown helicopters in interesting places, and been a ski bum, twice. I went to Hawaii for a hour in the middle of the night, Long Beach for a day in the rain, and I’ve been around the world (I went out half way and came back). If you ask me what I do I’ll probably ask you “when?”
It’s my belief that you can find out what you want to do in life by process of elimination. Once you know all the things you don’t want to do, the rest is easy. It’s like dialing phone numbers at random until someone you wish to speak with answers.
What I’ve done won’t fit into a single sentence. What I want will. I want to be a writer, I want to be a husband, I want to live in the mountains.
Byline: Michael Moore - Writer, Husband, Happy Camper.
I hate peanut butter cookies.
Well, not really but I don’t like what they stand for. Peanut butter cookies means that Mom loves my sister more than me. On the other hand, homemade macaroni and cheese means mom loves me most. As you can see ours was a complicated kitchen.
Have you ever noticed that you may like or dislike a certain thing because it reminds you of someone? Personally I would never by a Chevy truck. I’ve worked for some people who had them and I don’t like those people. I would buy a Ford though, my best friend drives one.
There is a shirt that is a favorite of mine. It’s not because the shirt was expensive, or that it fits well. It’s because it reminds me of a time when I was in love with a beautiful lady. That shirt loves me, I can tell.
Much of what I have reminds me of an activity or a person. I have skis from my best friends dad, a sleeping bag from my father and dishes from my mom. The umbrella I got in New Orleans, (it was raining in the French quarter) the wooden helicopter I made for school and the lamp on my desk all remind me of an adventure.
Cameras. I have two. One was a graduation present, the other I got when I went to Australia. They both remind me of wonderful adventures. The pictures I took decorate my house and fill volumes on my shelves.
I get all misty eyed when I’m forced to part with something. Few people have cried over a 1947 Willys jeep, I have. A garage sale is the worst punishment I can think of. I guess I’m afraid I won’t remember all the good times if the stuff is gone.
Sights, sounds, smells, any one may remind us. Any two can make us cry. All three can mend, or break a heart.
“Remember that things are symbols, and that the thing symbolized is more important than the symbol itself.”
- Judge Thomas Troward, quoted in Attaining your desires by Genevive Behrend
Say The Wrong Thing
Hi,
I called to say the wrong thing.
I heard you were hurting and I want to say how sad I feel
that this happened.
But, I was afraid I might reach you while you were having a
happy thought and I’d ruin it by reminding you of your sadness.
Really? You’re glad I called?
I’m so sorry... How are you?
One of the things I like best about flight is greeting the sun. On a clear day, to be airborne before the first hint of light, waiting. As the sky turns pale blue and then brightens I get excited to see the sun. It's like being a little kid and having a parent return from a trip. I'm bursting with joy as the sun peeks over the horizon. It's shining only on me. The ground is still in darkness and I have the sun to myself. I reach out and hug the sun, welcome it to a new day, share the sky with it, and bid it godspeed.
Life
Women see life as a weave of relationships and personal stories. This strand over that, this life wound with this one, that one over then under. Each person and every experience of life is wound around or woven into the tapestry of her life. She weaves this tapestry with every one she meets and will share the tapestry with other women and men.
Men see the tapestry of life as a tangled ball of twine. Something to be sorted out into nice neat little strands. He pulls the strings of life off the big tangle and sets them down, one by one, in neat rows. Reckoning with each strand, then either fixing it, or discarding it, as needed. Untangling is solitary work and he will seldom share a strand with someone. Even when he does it’s just to say “A-Ha! I freed it from the tangle.”
Weaver, meet the de-tangler
“The watch is a confidence trick invented by the Swiss”
-Joel Gray
The next time you see someone look at their watch wait a few seconds then ask them what time it is. I’ll bet they have to look at their watch again before they can tell you. Go ahead, try it.
I was right wasn’t I? That’s because people don’t look at their watch to see what time it is, they look to see what time it isn’t.
For instance, say you have an appointment at 3:00. It’ll take you ten minutes to get there. So, the time you’re looking for is 2:50. When 2:50 rolls around you’ll leave for the appointment. If you look at your watch and it’s not 2:50 you don’t care. You’re looking to see that it’s not 2:50
You look to see what time it isn’t.