La Luna.

The earth revolves around the sun, which implies the earth does not revolve around me. (I don't think I'm the sun!) The moon revolves around the earth. So. I am of the earth. Ergo, the moon revolves around me. That is good enough.

Hungry Hippo.

Lately, I've been dreaming about "Hungry Hungry Hippo." Repeatedly. At least 3 times this week. I don't know why. I never played the game. I was too old to be interested when it was first introduced. I do think it is funny. I wake up thinking, "hungry hungry hippo!" As if this is the answer to some deep and... unanswerable question.

Why is the sky blue?

Hungry Hungry Hippo!

What is the square root of pi?

Hungry Hungry Hippo!

What is the meaning of life?

Hungry Hungry Hippo, of course!

God Posts a Billboard.

Tonight, at the "Burrito Factory" picking up a dinner order, a customer talking to another diner was saying what a great place Sunland is to live. He said, "the people have always been nice, we are a blue collar neighborhood, you know, working class, and it has been great to live here." It is great to live here. It is a working class neighborhood. It is not the West Side. It is not Beverly Hills. It is not even close to Culver City, but it is my home. We bought here because we could afford it and it is close to my parents. Well, my parent now. My mom died a few years ago. I don't necessarily agree with the politics of my latest hometown, but my neighbors are friendly, religious, gracious humble people. But, they are losing their jobs and their health insurance, or having to pay COBRA prices and are scared. They don't know who to believe. They don't know who to vote for. They just don't understand and really just want jobs and affordable health care. They think they are Republican. But, that party keeps betraying them. I know the Democrats don't do any better by them. The two parties are in a battle that no one really cares about. They, WE, just need the system to change. None of us care whether one party or another does it. None of us. Really, I hear it in this little neighborhood. We need help. We can't afford groceries, let alone health care. I now pay over $8,000 a year in health care premiums for me and my husband and my health care is mostly paid for by my union.

When one is less than rich, (I don't want to say "poor," there are far poorer people than we) one worries about the cost, and probably has no plan one can afford, because the less money one has, the more healthcare costs. When one is rich, one has more options. When one is over 65 one has government healthcare called Medicare. Not the rest of us. We struggle. Period. This sucks. Then, there are those rare individuals who have accrued more money than some of us, and worry not about healthcare. They can afford whatever the policy doesn't cover. And, those few seem to have the policies that DO cover that surgery or procedure. They can PAY the premiums. We who cannot are devalued in this country because we don't make the MONEY to contribute to the gross excesses of the insurance companies. I stress money because it seems to be the only important ambition one should have in this country. Making Money? That is what is important? Where we've come to? Really? Not quality of life? Not happiness? Not Art and Music? Science? Theatre? Or just plain old Dreams? Okay, you know what? That sucks.

My life is worth more. (So is yours.)

Look, I've been a big believer in Capitalism. (Big fan of Ayn Rand.) But, I've never believed Capitalism should be as dishonest as it is right now. The cheating and the short-term gains at the expense of one's fellow citizens is horrifying. Who are these people that need THAT much money? Most of them call themselves Christians to boot. What?

I identify myself as a humanist. I believe in people, not some invisible nonsense. (No offense intended, dear reader.) I believe that most people are good and that most people care about each other. I care about my neighbors and my friends and my family. I care about people struggling and try to send help. I believe in this life and the people who populate this life. I am not looking for some strange and amorphous reward later. But, .. I will not build a fortune on the misfortune of others. That is what I think is happening right now. I think there are some (very little) people who see the opportunity to make some quick money off people who have very little control in the world. I call these people politicians. Our elected reps are NOT representing us anymore! Why do they feel they have to "go across the aisle?" Why don't they JUST do what is right? Courage!

DO WHAT IS RIGHT!

Fix the fucking healthcare system. Find a way to stop the wars! We are all suffering! No, we are crying.

Stop fucking around.

God posts a billboard: "STOP IT"

(stolen from a cartoon by Dan Piraro)

Sometimes...

Sometimes, when I'm sitting alone, I turn my head quickly and I think I see someone or something moving in my peripheral vision. I'm startled every time. Not a ghost, not a phantom and not an hallucination. Hmm. It is the arm of my glasses.

Haiku Attempts.

Late night, but not too.

Worrying, trying not to.

Wishing for a trip. (or two)

Poor attempt at haiku. Adding too many syllables to explain and to be clever. Takes away from the elegance.

Alas, I fear my real poetry days are behind me. What seems to be inescapable for the near future are the needs of my wider family. I will endeavor to address those needs and help as I can. What I sometimes want feels a bit immaterial and unimportant by contrast. (And selfish.) I have spent a good part of October lazy, but have spent days trying to help. Here we are in November, and I really feel like I need to find another job, bring in a bit more money, and continue to invest in the future of the family's kids. This is all good.

What I want is to read the newspaper every day. To walk 2 hours a day and still find the time to read a book. To slowly clean out my closets (reduce! simplify!) and to get rid of all those boxes in the garage we've not looked into in 10 years.

I want to see more theatre.

I don't want to cook Thanksgiving for 30 people (again). I won't do it. I've done it since my mother died and I'm done. I've said as much. (And yet, I find I am already offering cooking advice to the other 28.) I will cook for my husband. I will visit the 28 if I can.

I get tired this time of year. I want to sleep until I wake up. I want to take naps. I sometimes hate when the phone rings. (I sometimes love when the phone rings... I don't have to be consistent, damn it!)

I just want more time.

More time to be there for you.

More time for myself.

Time. The theme of my haikus. The theme of my life, in a way. Time, where does it go and how does the passage of time serve us? And maybe it is all okay anyway.

Enigmas of life

Floating through the firmament

Looking up, we hope.

xo

55, wow.

Halloween night. Some years we have 40 or more kids appearing at our door in costume. (I hand out full sized Butterfingers every year.) This year, fewer of my neighbors are participating and we live on a dead-end street. Usually a good thing, but at Halloween, without the neighbors' lights to draw the kids down the street, most don't make the dark journey. We've seen but a handful. Alas. I so enjoy giving out candy to random costumed children.

My neighborhood likes to dress up for Halloween.

I enjoy wandering past all the houses decked out to receive the kids, or to host a party. It feels like a bit of a throw-back to the early 60's when hundreds of us took to the streets and came home with piles of candy, the occasional toy and (from the local dentist) a brand new toothbrush. I like the tradition. I like to share in it.

I love how inventive my neighbors are.

Here is a particularly scary invention:

What is it about clowns? Really?

I am 55 today. Wow. 25 short years ago, I was only 30. 25 years before that I was ...5 years old. Life is indeed short and goes by so quickly. I like 55. It looks good from here. I don't feel old, by any means, though I think it is funny that I am now considered a "senior." I had lovely calls from my entire family and my closest friends. Most of the nieces and nephews "texted" me. I think that is a riot. I enjoyed the day. I walked (what a surprise.) I shopped and made stew. (It is the perfect Halloween meal and was glorious!) I ordered and bought myself a cake. I am very particular and wanted the cake to be "just right." We will eat it later with some mint chocolate chip ice cream.

I am still waiting for more children. I see them up the block but they just don't turn right, wander down the street and come to me.

My students will get the benefit of so much left over Halloween candy, along with a very critical evaluation of their midterms and the resultant grades.

We ever move forward. I like the journey. I'm interested and happy and intrigued with what comes next. What happens tomorrow? Hmm, what happens later tonight?

Loving the mystery, looking for the joy, and finding my life occasionally magical.

(Two more tiny children showed up from next door. Yes!)

A Cautionary Tale.

I nearly killed us recently. I've been too embarrassed to tell anyone or talk about it with anyone except my husband, who was there. My guilt prevented me from talking about this, but the hard lesson learned is worth sharing.

I got ready for bed one night around midnight, after drinking and smoking cigarettes. I emptied the ashtrays in the garbage can, per usual, put the glass in the kitchen and went to bed. Fell dead asleep. (That is a euphemism, but more apt than I'd like.)

At 3am I woke up hearing a sharp piercing sound coming from the hallway. We'd just replaced the batteries in the smoke detector in my room and I thought, in my haze of sleep, that, oh, gosh, we should have replaced all the detectors' batteries. No! Seconds later, the smoke detector in my room went off. Okay! I finally got up. The house was full of smoke. Hard to see. I didn't turn on any lights, I didn't need to and I was still worried about waking up my husband. I got to the kitchen and saw flames coming up from our garbage can left of underneath the sink. I saw flames. I then called for my husband, but he didn't hear me. I grabbed a bowl and filled it with water 2 or 3 times and doused the flames in the garbage can. The fire was out. The smoke was worse than before. The garbage can was melted beyond use.

The garbage can had melted. The entire house smelled of smoke. The entire house was filled with smoke.

I opened the front door, and woke my dear (confused) husband. As I opened windows and doors the alarms went silent. He and I then went through the house checking everything, and realized, much to my chagrin, that I had thrown out a cigarette still smoking. He admitted to putting newspapers in the trash... a confluence of circumstance. (We always put newspapers in the "blue bin.") But, clearly, my fault. My Fault!

We were okay. It took us until today to get the smoke smell out of the house. We've washed the floors, sanitized the room and today, washed the curtains. There is a point.

Without the smoke detectors both of us would have slept through the incident. Both of us could have died. (He and I have not talked about that. We have talked about losing the house... hmm.)

I never put much stock in smoke detectors before. Clearly, I've just been stupid. I have to say, the complete complement of detectors saved our lives.

Take note.

A cautionary tale.