Wednesday, August 13, 2014

On Time and Watching

I am glad that I came back to blogging the other day.  It was not to find a place to vent or ponder thou I do those things here too.  I came back because I wanted to visit friends and maybe find a few new ones.

Timing makes being here now a necessity.

A relative is dieing.  Health and age play a role.  But this is not always the case.

I ponder death often.  It sits in the corner of the room quiet…  Listening…  Waiting…

This doesn’t mean that I court Death.  But we are friends of a sort.  I am not depressed or suicidal.  Only aware.

I know Death because I’m old enough to have seen it many times.  I’ve been in the room as older relatives have breathed their last.  I have buried my own child.  I have held their cold lifeless hands after that last good-bye.

I have also looked death in the eye.  Three heart attacks behind me and a few close calls with allergy attacks has made Death all too real for me.

And now I am brought back to the place where we are on watch yet again.  The parade of relatives and friends march on by.  Some look around…  peeking in corners to see just how close death lurks.  Others are afraid.  They keep their distance so that Death can’t come too close… or brush their arm in passing.  As if Death may accidently take them too.

I know that there is no escape.  I am happy to wait.  I am not foolhardy.  I take no risks or chances.

I do not court Death… But I am aware that Death is never very far off.  Daily the news tells me of the latest celebrity death, or accidental death, or murder.  No, not far at all.

Life comes with an expiration date.  No one gets out alive.  Accepting this is not easy for some, but we all must admit that it is true.

It is the sadness and loss that hurts the most.  We tell Death ‘Go away!’ ‘Don’t change my plans for a future once imagined with this person.’  ‘I want to write a future and make plans without your interference.’   But Death is deaf to our pleas.

So we hurt and are sad, we feel the loss and pick up the pieces.  We cry, hold hands, listen to each other.  We wait…  to feel better…  for it to be over…

We wait… for Death to move from its corner and claim another life sometime soon.   We are feeling helpless and all too vulnerable as we wait.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Facebook isn't Real Life

Now that I’m creeping my spidery self back along the web again.  Pun intended!

I’ve found some interesting ‘new to me’ blogs.  I hope to find others in the limited time I have each day to play in the flower garden of blogdom.

Its great to know that Facebook hasn’t killed blogging altogether.

I personally do not like Facebook.  I find it a money making, intrusive, gossipy, …   Well, Don’t get me started!

I only spent one day there and had to go hid under my bed for a week.

Its this ‘friends’ business.  A thinly cloaked method of stroking ones ego to control ones mind or loosen ones tongue.

I do not need Facebook to measure my self worth.  I do not have to say the right thing, play the right games, or do whatever the current thing of the day is, to accumulate more and more ‘friends‘.

People have been led to believe that saying personal things is quite okay to do.  Lives have been wrecked.

I have personally lost relationships over this.  Relatives that after running out of secrets of their own to spill move on to secrets of others to feed their need to find something new to say or gossip about on Facebook.

All with a ‘This is a good  thing.’ air because, ‘It can’t be bad if I have so very many ‘friends’ now that I’m interesting.’   To hell with the consequences of ones actions.  That is someone else’s mess to clean up.

(Don’t get me wrong, I know that many people are truly there for perfectly reasonable reasons.  They don’t tell or engage in malicious gossip.)

And then there are the Games there.  With the people who bother the heck out of others to play a game.

This isn’t a one off game of the moment.  It is a commitment to play day in and day out boosting each others scores.  Enabling each other to gain greater power and levels.

I use to love playing these types of games, minus the Friends aspect.  You can’t find one of these types of games on the market any longer unless you go to Facebook to play.  And Facebook constantly harasses as you play to buy, buy, buy more points.  Real money for nothing really.  A chance to get ahead in a game.

To me Facebook feels like place full of addicted people praying on others.

I’d rather spend my time on real friends and self improvement in mind, body and spirit.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Ukulele Torture, Of Sorts

So, Like I said a few days ago I’ve purchased a Ukulele.  Just a cheep starter Kohala.  Not known for their quality.  Cosmetic flaws and such.  I had to reduce the action on it also.  (For those that don’t know and care.  That means making the strings closer to the neck so you don’t have to push so hard to make the chords.)

But I do have to say that the one I got has good sound and excellent resonance.  Meaning it doesn’t sound all that bad.  Fairly good really for a cheep Ukulele.

So I dressed her up.  (Still deciding on a name for her.)  I got out my markers and did a little scroll work on the front.  Added a few stickers numbering the frets, (those little bars across the neck) and under the strings reminding me of the keys the strings are tuned to.  G C E A  My dog has fleas.  (What ever that is suppose to mean.)  Now I had a good learning instrument.

And off I went.  Contorting my hands into the odd assortment of positions meant to make music from a stringed instrument.

The first few days were nothing less than torture.  In a good way of course.  But still, I do have to replace the cotton wool used up in the ears of all those in hearing distance.

And two months later I’m playing my favorites along with the obligatory Uke standards in a reasonable manor and having way too much fun doing it.

Now the torture is only one way.  As my song preference is not popular with the neighbors, they will just have to keep on closing their windows for an hour a day until colder weather hits.  

What started this Ukulele Mania is a bit complicated.  First off my grandmother had and played a Ukulele.  (Not strange for her generation.)  and I loved hearing her play it as a kid.

Second is my eclectic tastes in music.  Few things I don’t like there.  Thou they do run to the dark and odd side of things.

Third is my sense of humor.  Enter the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain.  I’ve enjoyed them for years.

I’ll just let you go and watch them while I get back to playing the Masochism Tango on my Uke.
Link to Tom Lehrer doing it here.