CASTRADOS! (PAUL & HEATHER McCARTNEY)

Just as I am deeply moved by the romantic melodies of Paul McCartney, my spirit vibrates with the works of Chopin, Mendolssohn and Mozart. Classical music takes me back..... AH!! but the times were no simpler for singers back then too!

I am reminded that in the early 18th Century, the Royalty were so overwhelmed by the opera arias (soloists that could reach a very very high note) that they would actually pay large sums of money to families that would have a young singer (always male)castrated !This would allow the young singers' voice to reach the highest plateau of perfection. These "Castrados" could sing Arias like no others and were placed in the finest living quarters and given the best education in the world. (It was like having a walkman). With their testicles removed, these boys could devote their young lives to singing. They were to have no other passions, nor interferences with their music.

   Here we are 300 years later. While we have become more civil with cultivating our music, I look around and see how couples become so involved with the fullfillment of their own needs that they "cutoff" the dreams and hopes of their mates. In pursuit of obtaining the "high notes" one of the  mates will often find the bounty of his or her expectations left at the alter. Unfortunately, what we ulitmately castrate is the potential of obtaining the simple pleasures that togetherness affords.

The title of Paul McCartneys new song was unknowingly given to him by Heather when he asked that she sign a prenupital agreement. "I'll sign your prenup, but when I leave, I'll have your balls" she gigled in his ear.

You'll find his new release intriguing..sung on a very very HIGH note!

All You Need is Love.

The Stileto Syndrome: The Rise & Fall of Port Wine Cheese

    I can recall the first time I tasted Port Wine Cheese. I was with a date and we were in a cafe that served cheese, wines and coffee in a very casual living room type atmosphere.

   I was 21 at the time, and back then, the markets had a limited variety of cheeses.  Port Wine and Cheddar, sounded so, decadent. We ordered it,and  it was served with fresh fruits and an assortment of crackers, and of course our wine selection. Within moments of my first taste of this new variety of cheese, my entire state of consciuosness was elevated! I suddenly felt a little more mature, a little more "wordly and sophiscated".  Beneath the Tiffany Lamp and the soft piano music playing lightly in the backround, I directed our conversation towards politics and other wordly matters. All this, from the taste of cheese.

  Years have passed since. The markets are overflowing with cheeses and yes, Port Wine is now found everywhere. I just saw some being offered in 7-11 store, although it is packaged like a cream cheese spread (yuk).  I have encountered this cheese more times than I care to count. I am no longer drawn to it in the way I once was. I no longer feel sophisticated beyond my years when I taste it.

Hold that thought.....

 

   I once worked in an office that had a very tempermental lady working it. One day she would greet you with the smiles, the next day, she'd ignore you like you weren't there.Her ups and downs were faster than two Hippos on a see-saw!

   Her redemption,......on certain days of the week, she would wear stiletos. Her overall appearence....was simply, average. Not very pretty,average body type, not curvey, or busty, not tall, not short....just average.  For some reason, when she would walk through the office with those pointed heels....she seemed to have gained an edge in all categories.When she strutted through the office in those heels,   how quickly I could forgive her cold shoulder and  her biting remarks that she made just the day before.

   So as I stare into my fridge, and notice that piece of Port Wine Cheese (from who knows when) and do not have the desire for it. I salute you ladies, with your magic slipper, how easily, one style of shoe can have a mood altering impact.

  ....Now I know why Prince charming was going so crazy to findCindarella, it was the stileto!

 

HIGH TEST

    I really enjoy being at the market early in the morning. The scents of freshly baked breads mix with floral arrangements, yield such a welcoming feeling to the store. Everything is glistening and new!

  On this morning, the calm was was rippled by a woman briskly walking right past me. She was an elderly store employee, I admired the high energy in her walk. I just could not imagine what her hurry was. I reached the end of the aisle and there she was, holding a tray of small plastic cups filled with a beverage. She's in the twilight of her years and does not quite measure up to 5 ft in height. "Wanna try a new drink?" she asks , flashing a big smile with bright red lipstick painted on her lips. "It's a new energy drink, that is made from Green Tea and has a peachy flavor to it. It has vitamins and lots of good things in it to give you a boost. There are no harmful herbs  or caffiene in it".       I smile and say "sure" ad sip the new offering. It was a delightful blend of green tea and peach flavoring. the two distinctly different flavors played off of each other. The beverage was light and refreshing. I lifted the can off the table and examined the label of its ingredients which the woman had boasted about.

  There on the front of the can, the words were quite clear "contains caffiene".  "oops" I smiled to the woman, "it seems like this miracle drink does have caffiene in it". Her immediate reply without hestitation..."I never said it didn't have caffiene". Then continuing with her sales speech, "of course it has caffiene, that is what gives you the boost....what it doesn't have is those harmful things that you find in the other sports drinks...You know, the things that kill the athletes on the ballfield."  My eybrows went up, crinkling my forehead..."Killing athletes?" I said bewildered, "what athlete died from a sports drink?"   She looked me in the eyes and said.."Lew Burdette....the pitcher for the Milwalkee Braves"   My eybrows flew up another notch, "Lew Burdette?, yes, I remember him, but he died last week at 81 years of age, he didn't die from drinking a sports drink".   Once again she smiled with her big red lips, "I didn't say he died from drinking a sports drink, I just said, he was an athlete who died".

   I lingered at the table for a moment not certain if I was losing my mind, ormy hearing. "Here" she said holding up another cup, "have another sample, you look like you could use it". As I swallowed the one gulp in that cup, she took a cup for herself and sent it down the hatch as if she was racing me. Simultaneously, we tossed our empty cups in the small wastebasket by her stand. I noticed that the wastebasket had quite a few empty cups in it. I looked around and realized, I was the only customer in the store. "This drink comes in 3 flavors and you know what is really good about it? You can drink it straight from the can or pour it over ice in a glass, either way, it's very refreshing!" She boasted with a big smile.

  I reached over to the display and loaded two six packs into my cart. "Wow" she said, "two six packs, you must really like this stuff".   I smiled back and said..."I am not sure how much I like it, but I know it would take 3 bottles or Merlot to get me as happy as you are!"

  The stuff is quite good. I am on my 3rd can.

Oh, by the way,  I am communicating this message telepathically ...I am not even near the computer...at this moment, I am doing the Samba on the  treadmill while listening to the  Gypsy spirited  heated rythms of Sade!

How will I know when the music is over!

Precision Vs. Perfection

My prayers of Peace go out the families in Enterprise Alabama. Their lives forever changed. The weight of grief they are carrying, unimaginable.

In watching the televised news report, my mind once again sent into a tailspin when one of the injured High School students asked, "what was God thinking?"

   God, (or Our Creator) does not sit in the heavens with a joystick, and with a few flicks of the wrist, have a Tornado develop, or an earthquake collapse a city, or have your car rear ended.

   So why create a "Garden Of Eden" only to have it's inhabitants assulted by the temper of Mother Nature?  The answer, lies in our very own construction.

  Scientists and Drs. have marveled over our network of arteries, veins, muscle and bone. We are a symbiotic series of systems (nervous, digestive, repoductive) that come together and allows us to sustain our species. Open up one of those "Human Body" books, and imagine if YOU were entrusted in making a human being! We are an amazing creation! Yet, with all of this precision, it takes only one cancerous cell, one micscopic virus or clot and all this precision comes tumbling down! What was God thinking??? To create something so very, very precise and yet, so imperfect!  Precision is not perfection.  

It is knowing how imperfect we are, how imperfect this world and Mother Nature is that should keep us thankful for each day. Living with a purpose that positively affects others is the thing that brings us a little closer to perfection!

So my answer to that puzzled young student who asked "What kind of God allows this to happen?" I answer, "the same God that created the Hope, and the Power to heal with Love".  It's not the perfect answer, just a precise one.

I still pray...

The Meatball Sub

                         The Meatball Sub ( this is what gets us through the day!)

 

    At the age of nine and a half, my mother, a single mom of three children, saved her last dollars to send me and my two older sisters to a sleep away camp for the summer. It was a six hour bus ride to the campsite which was too far from home for my liking. At the midpoint of the ride, the buses pulled over and stopped at a roadside eatery. The camp had arranged with the eatery to provide box lunches for us. The soggy and tasteless sandwiches were hardly a comforting break from the boring bus ride. While silently picking around the sandwich, I noticed other campers walking around with fist sized burgers and huge subs! A camper sat down next to me with the most delicious meatball sub.

    “Where did you get that?” I asked

    “I bought it in the cafeteria. Who can eat that boxed stuff?” He replied.

    I jumped up, ran inside the eatery and saw a sign that hanging high on the wall. Meatball Sub……. 75 cents.  My mom had sent me off to camp with five dollars . In those days that could buy you forty Milky Way bars and twenty sodas!  The five dollars was to be my canteen spending money for the summer. I decided to pass on the sub, but the sight of it, had left an indelible mark on my mind.

    During the next eight weeks of camp, with each tasteless meal came the thought of that tantalizing meatball sub! I removed three quarters from my pool of wealth and set them aside for the ride back home. That would be my reward and treat for being so thrifty!

    The last day of camp arrived, and during the bus ride home I could only think about that meatball sub! The bus arrived at the eatery and pulled over. The counselors advised that the box lunches would be served.

    “No way” I uttered as I briskly made my way into the cafeteria. I can still recall that feeling of pride as I grabbed a tray and slid it along the rails and announced my order to the cook “a meatball sub please!”

    As I walked away from the cashier my eyes were fixed on the tray in my hands with that glorious meatball sub on it, smothered with a bright red sauce!  I wanted to indulge myself in privacy so I headed for a table outside the eatery. I remember approaching the big glass doors that led to the outside. In the next instant, I was sprawled out on the floor with a terrible pain on my head! While exiting, someone had slammed the giant glass door on me and it hit me on the head! People came to my aid and escorted me to a table. Someone placed an ice pack for the lump that was quickly forming on my head. No sooner than they had placed that bag on my head, one of the older campers appeared before me with a brand new meatball sub.

    “I don’t have enough money to pay for it” I whimpered.

    “Don’t be silly” came the sweet reply, “this is yours, enjoy it!”

 

 

     What makes me remember this incident so clearly forty years after it happened? What is so important about this? It is incidences like these which seem so small, but in reality they carry the larger lessons of life. Had I never walked into that door, the meatball sub would have vanished from thought, but it was the act of kindness that was so dearly expressed to me that I remember the most. From there I learned, there can be no act of kindness that is too small!

 

    Some say that we learn how to be kind to others. The truth is, the kindness is already within us, it just waits for the moment to get out!

 

Bon Apetit my friends!

Misplaced Luck

          While checking out the winning lottery numbers in todays paper, uttering that same chant, "please, please, luck find me", an article next to the numbers grabbed my attention.

"Tainted Jars of Peanut Butter being recalled"   The article explains that 300 people have been stricken with salmonella poisoning from tainted jars of Peanut Butter. Jars beginning with the number 2111......

I made a dash for the pantry cabinet, picked up a recently purchased jar and read the numbers 2111.....Wow, I've got one! A jar of peanut butter loaded with salmonella!!

      At that moment my wife entered the kitchen....."we win the lotto or do I have to go to work today?" she asked with her sacastic chime. "While we didn't win the lottery, we do have a tainted jar Peanut Butter" I proudly replied. "Well, that figures" she continued with the sarcastic chime...."you can't pick the winning lottery numbers but you can pick the jar with tainted peanut butter...whoopie!"

"Well, look at it this way....we could of had made that Thai salad with Spicey peanut Dressing last night and today...we both would not have been going to work!"

Luck....we all get it, not just in the way we want it!

Marc :)

 

 

The Circle Game

One of my favorite photos is situated in the middle of a large wall collage of photos that hangs on the wall. It's not a family portrait, nor some posed shot at a milestone family gathering. It is a photo of my three sons, at the ages of two, five and eight. Three beautiful squeaky clean smiles peering out of a shower stall door that is just opening.

What makes this photo so dear, is the timing of the photo. Just staring at it I am swept back to those days and that hour of the day...."O.K. boys, dry yourselves off and hop into your pajamas...I'll meet you in bed for your bedtime story!"   Through the door, I could hear their excitement...."oh boy, I hope he tells us a good one"....

They were still small enough to fit on one bed and curl up around me. A chorus of requests would eminate, "tell us the Toys R Us story," "tells us the story when we got Locked in McDonalds" "tell us the story when we were shrunk and put into a video game"......No, you won't find these stories in your Storytime books....Every once in awhile, I would hand sew a night time tale to custom fit their imaginations. "The aiplane story"!....yes, that was one of their most requested......My, how they loved watching airplanes taking off and landing at the airport!  In this particular story, I had taken them to the airport for an afternoon of watching. While there, they wandered onto a jetliner that was idle. They sat in cockpit musing at the hundreds of dials and switches. The older boys dared the younger one to flip a switch. The youngest flipped the switch and the door to the jet closed. "Whoa, better flip it back" they beckoned. When the youngest did, the engines of the jet began to turn..........and each subsequent flipping, the wheels were set in motion for taking off........till, they finally did!

The story continued, how I grabbed a pilot and we jumped on another plane and took off after them! We lined up the planes , wing to wing, and I described how I would open the door to walk across to get into their plane. My five year old would always ask..."dad, would you really walk on the wing on of a jet at 25,000 feet high to save us?"   "yes" I would smile.."that's how much daddy loves you".....(sneaking in my ultimate message!)...  I boarded their plane and took them in for a safe landing.  "Did you punish us?" The oldest would ask...."No T.V. or nintendo for a year!" I firmly stated. The little one would pout, but it wasan accident, we didn't mean to fly the plane"...."I know" ....."and while no one got hurt, ...you did wander off away from Daddy....so, that's in part what the punishment is for"....

   The scent of their freshly washed hair, their skin so soft, their heartbeats so tender, we would lay a few minutes more before each one was escorted off to his own bed. They would close their eyes knowing they were protected, and loved beyond measure.

I don't think I have known anything so eloquent as those moments.

I look at that photo, and do not say "what a shame those moments could not last" but rather, I muse,  "what a shame it would have been, had I not had one of those moments"

and the wheel spins round......

Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, when youre older, must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and dawn
Were captive on the carousel of time
We cant return we con only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round, in the circle game.     Joni Mitchell