155: day 15teen - twenty-three
the home stretch
dec 3rd - dec 11th
opening salvo…Your writing makes me sad. there’s a lot of anger and sadness in it. It seems as if you’re are trying to reach for happiness. Even the Christmas tree drawing on your web site… sad, lumpy, empty.
- words from a friend.
Are the words right? Should I get defensive? Are they judgmental? Critical?
They unquestionably make me ponder where I’m heading. Maybe I’m, no, absolutely I’m, somewhat stuck with my family dilemma. With each day that passes I’m becoming glaringly more cognizant of my need to move on. It does me no good staying stuck. The words of others, when they come without judgment paint the significance of that need, brilliantly. And that is why on day 17teen, “Hello Doc. It’s been awhile… not much how about you. I’m not sure why I called I guess I really just wanted to talk to you.” And talk we’ll do. He’ll assess my ability to process. I’m sure he’ll tell me it’s amazing that I’m not a basket case, and then he’ll find something funny to bug me about. In the end if all goes well… he’ll wish me well, tell me to give it some time, and, he’ll tell me I’m intelligent and I’ll be fine.
Except for the damn sore throat I’ve developed in the last day. My friggen challenge, is becoming more, challenging. Monday a scratch. Tuesday some drizzle from my nose. Wednesday you sick boy… no gym for you. I knew that… so I’ve been absent thus far this week… being in-tune. If all goes well… back at it tomorrow.
I’ll end this with a flashback:
Husky football circa sometime in the 80s:
Coach Garvey: Boys we’ve got a big game ahead. UBC is one fine looking football team.
He draws a picture of a car on the board and writes Husky Mobile on it.
Coach Garvey: We’ve been struggling lately. We seem to be stuck. We’ve slid off the prairie highway and we’re spinning our wheels. We must find a way out of the ditch and back on the road. Boys we’ve got a great team. We can beat anybody. We just need focus. UBC may be good, but when we’re firing on all cylinders we can defeat them. I believe it! We have to fight. As a team. If we do we’ll get out of the ruts and be unstoppable. So, let’s fight together and win. What do we need to do to get the Husky Mobile unstuck?
Defensive lineman (enrolled in vocational agriculture): Coach… duh. (he goes to the board and starts drawing). I reckon we best go get the tractor and pull the car out of the ditch.
Sad is a powerful emotion as long as we stop it from lingering. Without sad I’m not so certain happy can be found.
…end of opening salvo.pep talk of the day
SLUMP.
I was already to go with a inspiring pep talk about editing life and wham… a massive slump hit. I’ll try not to bring you down with me, but this whole family affair of mine, is grating on me. Build up… build up… build up… and then nothing. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It has and I can’t do a damn thing about it.
I try not to read too much into the deception. I try desperately to convince myself that nothing has changed and this whole journey is no big deal. It’s not working. I visited my doctor… he had a sub in for him. She listened to my update and when I shared my last word injected.
“Wow. That’s too much for one person. In a year. I think in a lifetime. Way too much. You shouldn’t be okay. Are you? You need to give some of it away. Do you have anyone to talk to? You must come back. Get a full physical. Make sure nothings growing and everything is functioning properly. Book a physical… that way you’ll have enough time to fill Doc. Musial, in. I’m amazed you’re okay.”
Am I? I’m not so sure.
I’m feel as I’m frozen in an empty vortex and nothing means anything anymore. There is nothing ahead. This wasn’t supposed to be the conclusion. It was supposed to be a happy ending. Don’t get me wrong, I take great pride in who I’m becoming. In treating others well. And, I haven’t stopped doing so. But I’m not sure what the point of it is. I won’t stop. I’m just not so sure why I’m continuing?
I’m struggling with laughter. I’m struggling with allowing others in. I guess I’m just, struggling. Stuck. Frozen. Flailing. I need my writing to produce some results. I'm not sure if anyone is listening or if anyone cares. We’re too busy with celebrity. We’re too immersed in distraction. We’re all too tired to care. Are we not?
I care. It’s all I have to give.
As for my slump: a little sickness, led to a hint of depression, led to eating of crap again, led to avoiding the spirit-lifting exercise, led to soul-sapping… and thus, no pep talk in this installment.
Instead, I give you one of my latest article pitches, it’s a work in progress. Hope you enjoy!
our way of life: from beginning to end?
by: lindsay wincherauk
Some rich man came and raped the land,
nobody caught ‘em.
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes,
and Jesus, people bought ‘em.
- the eagles/last resortPeople from all over the World came to a new land, searching for freedom, liberty, the search for happiness, and a better way of life.
They staked claims to the land and forced their ways upon it’s indigenous inhabitants. They faced resistance. However, they were too strong and came in numbers too large for the natives to overcome. The aboriginals were defeated and their way of life was stripped from them. And so to was the respect for the land.
Society began to evolve. Everyone worked in harmony building towns, cities, highways, means of communication and items of opulence. Opportunity abounded! America became a land of freedom. A land where all man was equal. A land of endless opportunity. And, out of the propaganda, the American Dream was built. Be all you can be. Whatever you want can be yours. The Dream was real. Everyone started reaching for the sky.
At first everything was wonderful. Families grew. Love was strong. And people individually began to gravitate toward their strengths. Intellectuals found science, medicine, law, etc. Others leaned toward agriculture. Some weren’t so inclined and found themselves looking after homes, cleaning, maintaining, and nurturing. And some got dirty and built societies infrastructure. Some found themselves in manufacturing: clothing, furniture, the necessities of living… all the way to items of luxury. Each had someone above them orchestrating movement. Like the land before, the first to lay claim soared to the stratospheres… in the hierarchy of society the first to define status gained tremendous wealth and status.
The Dream was alive and everyone believed with hard work they could still reach for the sky. Shoot for your Dreams. Anything is possible. It was. Society rewarded accomplishment. A doctor, a lawyer, an entrepreneur, and heads of companies were paid like Kings. A farm worker, a janitor, and a mother, not so much. Those without means were forced to live in different neighborhoods. The other side of the tracks. The bottom of the hill. Yet, they still believed the stars were within reach. Stay in school. Work hard son and you can have whatever you want.
Want?
Corporations created it. If we show the populace what they need, give them a taste with marketing, show images of the rich & famous living amazing lives while enjoying our stuff… we can reap the rewards. Lets start with the children --- hang out by the school yards and show them their first taste.
It worked to perfection.
Everybody started to look for an angle. Something to sell. Something that would help them live the American Dream. Something to help them shoot for the stars. I bought it for this much (sale). I sold it for this. Became contradicting forces. Fair market value… a fallacy at best. In the infancy of the plan… many changed social classes, and with new found success, changed neighborhoods as well. The janitor was left behind. But we’re all created equal. Depression sets in. If I’m equal why can’t I climb?
Those who’ve climbed to the top began to forget the difficulty of the climb. They forgot that those they climbed over are human as well. They looked down on those who were never given the tools to reach great heights. Be that: intelligence, birthright or just plain luck. I worked hard. I deserve more. If they want what I have they can work like me. All without an ounce of compassion for how much effort it takes to remain impoverished. Poor takes more effort than rich can ever imagine. Society continues…
Everyone wants, wants, wants… wanting is marketed as happiness. It’s the fuel that ignites the lower reaches of society. They can look, but they can’t touch. Some still find a way up. Most just Dream. A line is established. Those who can have. Those who can’t. Each year more fall below the line.
Must keep those below the line hungry. Sell them hope. Unattainable?
If they’re hungry and still believe they can have… they’ll work harder. They do.
Families begin to fail. The pressure of the Dream is too much. You never give me anything. We never go anywhere. You’ll never amount to anything. Society fractures. The divorce rate soars. Two homes are created from where there once was only one. Two homes needs more stuff. Some can’t afford what they need.
Suave entrepreneurs search for a way to keep selling. We’ll lend you the money. You too can have stuff. For a price. It works. Everyone below the line buys in. The price is heavy. But the happiness it’ll bring will solve all of the problems of life. It does for awhile. Until the bills pile up.
Make your money work for you… that’ll help you out of your situation. Give it to me. If you give me enough, I’ll give you a little extra each month if you don’t touch it. The rich dump billions in and leave it alone. Their money grows. Everyone else deposit pennies, and they access it regularly. The banker thinks, I can make money off those who don’t leave their money alone. Each time they touch it I’ll charge them a fee. I can give part of that fee to the rich. The line is lowered again. The Dream is replaced with insomnia. More families splinter apart. And the rich keep getting fatter off the sweat of those still immersed in the Dream.
We need more consumers. Not a problem. Thousands are lined up at our doors. They want to pursue the American Dream. Good, they’ll work for less. They’re at the bottom rung. Those who are already on that rung fall off. They begin to drink. They venture down a path to more illicit substances trying to find escape. There is no escape. They find themselves alone and shunned. They blame their problems on those new to the land, instead of the flawed Dream. Their homes are broken and even more tragically, their children are no longer equal. The line is lowered some more.
As time goes ‘buy‘… and nearly everything’s been done, the Dream begins to turn into a nightmare for most, so, they gamble, buy lottery tickets and fall deeper into escape. More families fail as each generation becomes increasingly burdened by the weight of the pursuit. The immigrants did this to me. To us.
The rich party and their wealth is flaunted in front of us in the media. Athletes and celebrities make 100s of millions. Heads of corporations live lavish lifestyles. The media keeps smothering us with images of glamour and excess. Television proliferates what decorating a home, flipping a house, and dressing in the finest fashions can bring us. Happiness. We want it badly… happiness that is. Esteem is ripped from our souls. We all want to be millionaires. We all want to say DEAL.
We still need to keep those who haven’t fallen off the bottom rung happy, indebted. We’ll give them a pittance more, we’ll tell them if they work harder they too can climb. It’s not too late. They do, work harder that is, however, they’re too tired to think when they return home each night. Too tired and distracted to see what’s coming our way. They want to escape. They can’t. One job turned into two, even three, just to survive, something has to give. Families implode.
In the meantime corporations secretly look for ways to manufacture products at lower costs so those at the top can still bathe in gold. They tell the Dreamers they have no choice, our hands are tied, it‘s the global economies fault… we can’t afford you anymore. More fall off the step. Blaming China and India as they fall --- not the men at the top.
Crime and despair run rampant in the depths of destruction. Mostly against each other at the bottom. The rich are behind gates. More families fail as the currency of love for the shallow tear them apart. Beauty for women. Money, fame, and power for men. Beauty has an expiry date. Money keeps attracting more money.
Paranoia sets in. Our way of life is in jeopardy. What’s the definition of WAY, again?
Stuff?
We must keep others out. Protect what we have. We need a common enemy. We find one. Somebody to rally against. Something to distract our citizens from pain. War is the answer? It will unite us. It doesn’t, it divides us more than ever with children dying for an undefined cause.
We must examine our immigration policies the politicians shout out. It’s the Mexicans, the Chinese, the Gays, the… who’ve created this mess. They’ve taken food right out of the mouths of Americans and they want to consume our resources. They’re the ones to blame.
Are they?
They work as janitors and in farmers fields. Americans realized long ago that was no longer the way to the top. Donald Trump reminds us of just that: Think BIG and Kick Ass in Business and Life. Some at the bottom try to keep the Dream alive and fill his pockets with cash. Most of the others at the bottom of the pool have given up and are just trying to survive escape. Their Dream has long died.
Oh my God!.. our infrastructure is about to collapse. Our highways. Our bridges. Our hospitals. Our… we can’t afford to pay Americans to fix it.
The middle of the pack, which is now near the bottom, still think that there’s hope. They’ll fight. They still want ‘High Definition’. They rally. The government recognizes the Dream is splintering apart. Many see through the sales pitch. The government hard sells the agenda: Our way of life is at stake, all you have to do to protect it is, trust me. *WINK*. I may take away your liberties. A bit of your freedom. I’m not a fascist. The enemy wants to destroy us. We must continue to fight.
If we don’t wake from the Dream, before we blink, our freedom may be gone. A short trip back into history and we’ll realize this scenario’s been played out before.
The WAY of life wasn’t supposed to be stuff. It was liberty and freedom. Family and friends. It was equality of mankind. Each part was supposed to be equally important. The enemy isn’t definable by the color of skin. The enemy is GREED.
The fatal flaw of the Dream: A janitor can never be a doctor, regardless of how hard he try’s. And, janitors are easily replaceable as a new willing addict is at our doors wanting a taste of the Dream. We reward money with money. How preposterous. Could we be applying the interest to the wrong end of the scale?
Can it be fixed?
I don’t know. Maybe this is just the way it’s supposed to play out. Maybe we don’t have any say in tomorrow. I refuse to buy that notion. Could it be time for us all to rally against greed? To value PEOPLE more than stuff?
Just imagine if a portion of the interest of those at the top was directed to those still struggling with the climb. Wouldn’t homelessness, and crime begin to vanish before our eyes as dignity and hope is returned to all those who’ve been left behind?
For me: What a beautiful Dream!
progress report
In an unprecedented move the powers that be at the 155 Challenge Head Office have decided to grant an extension due to the near meltdown of the test subject. A spokesman, Mr. Tulupsha, on behalf of 155’s president stated in a prepared statement: “Holly crap! That’s a kindling too much of life for one person to process in such a short time frame. 155’s pressures may send him over the edge. Family. No family. Sick. 555. Coping and the such, I think in this one case we need to extend the challenge period. I’m certain that Mr. Lindsay is not a melodramatic flaneur, and a whisp of compassion may help him reach his lofty goals. Therefore the an extension of fourteen days is in order. New completion date: January 3rd, 2008, making the challenge a 45 day journey. EXTENSION GRANTED!”
The 155 Head Office is located in:
Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapok-aiwhenuakitanatahu,
New Zealand. Population: it’s a hill --- whatever lives on it and it’s 85 letters. The long version 92 letters. Legend has it a man with big knees who swallows the land while playing his flute. Seriously!
A subsidiary office is located in: Whiskey Dick Mountain, Washington State, USA.
And, just out of curiosity, have you ever been to:
Fucking, Austria?
It’s located 32 k. north of Salzburg, “the hills are alive,” population 93. Apparently the town had to install theft-resistant signs to combat the problem of sign stealing.
To understand more on the etymology of the word FUCK, visit ask seed at http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ and check out the table of contents. There you’ll find all you need to know.
For now (author credit below):
Fucking in Austria has a long history: Its oldest record dates back to 1070. As I have stated in my article about the history of Austria, Bavarian tribes migrated into the region of what is Northern Austria today in the 6th century. Even today you can still see how far they got (before they encountered Slavonic settlers in the South) by villages and towns that end on the suffix of “-ing” or “-ig”. This suffix refers to “community” or “people”. One of the Bavarian noblemen migrating into Austria was a man called Focko. I do not know how he got his name but hope that he was proud of it.
The Meaning of Fucking finally Revealed
The settlement that he ruled over referred to him as the landlord in its name: “Fockoing” therefore meant “community or people of Focko”. This is the etymologic origin of Fucking. Today, it is still little more than a settlement with a mere 91 residents (“Fuckers”?). The village, which is located in the district of Braunau am Inn, nonetheless attracts a lot of attention. Fucking often appears in the media – for some peculiar reason, it is usually English-speaking programs that pay attention to the village with the easy-to-remember-name. Personally, I like Rosanne Barr’s incredibly smart comments (“Do they know it’s a bad word?”) best.
Source: http://tourmycountry.com/austria/fucking.htm
All contents are copyright (c) 2006-2007 by Benedikt Mandl and TourMyCountry.com
Note: Although, one day we hope to have a head office, and if we did, the above locations would be peachy, however, we don’t. Well not entirely true, we actually do, it resides between my ears, and as mentioned, that area has been a little overburdened of late. Thus, an ounce of levity was required. Like fuck, don’t you think!?!
fitness fact/tip
listen to your body!
A weak installment. I know! I said I was down. Anyway, if you’ve got a bit of a cold or a fever, be cognizant of how you feel. Don’t be obsessed with fitness. Take the time to get better. Your body will thank you, and so will all those who you don’t spread your illness to at the gym.
consumed
day 15teen monday dec 3rd - day twenty-three tuesday dec 11th
randomness
Jim died.
I can’t help flash back to Jim. He died during the last update. He was seventy-two. A good man. He lived hard. He had a tough life. But still he was a decent man. We can’t forget that fact. I hadn’t seen him for about six months when he returned to work recently. Regardless of his absence, condition and age, he asked me on his first day back, “How’s your poetry going.”
At first I wanted to correct him, fortunately I quickly realized, who cares?.. I hadn’t seen him in six months and he remembered I write. That’s all that mattered.
We can all learn something from Jim: show interest in others.
When I told him, “It’s a tough grind and it can take a long time for results to come back.”
He kindly replied, “Don’t worry… you’ll succeed. You’ve got one thing that can’t be taught, talent!”
Not only did he show interest… he encouraged as well.
Thank you: JIM.
You will be missed. We’re all a bit better off for having known you.
people matter!
