Howdy, folks! Here’s your Friday grab bag!
Bye is for Horses
“Hey horses! Hey! Hey! Hey Horses!” I stood by the fence, shaking the jar of treats. They ignored me. Looking up for a moment, they paused, then broke into a gallop…to a grove of trees farther out of reach. So much for a good-bye photo. In a way, it’s fitting.
They’ve been boarding in the front field for a few months, and are off to their next stop. I’ll miss them. What majesty…power…grace…pettiness. I swear, if an especially mean cheerleading squad died in a bus accident, and were reincarnated as horses as penance…it would make sense. If you give one a treat, the other one bites her, or backs into her, and forget it if you’re the poor gelding missing an eye (his name is “One Eyed Jack”…!) They’ll all squabble and then run away. Maybe it’s because I was always saying “Hey horses! HAY is for horses!”
Still - to watch them gallop in the breeze, hear the thud of their hooves, see their manes stream out behind them, and occasionally, be startled by a snort in the dark when out walking…I’ll miss them.
“This is an Extra Judgement Zone” - looking haughty with Maria.
“Hello, I’m Johnny Cash.”
I’m hitting the road for Roanoke soon. It’s time to talk Johnny Cash, Sam Phillips, and Merle Haggard. The theme is: one moment influencing an entire life. For Merle, it was attending a special concert. Johnny was playing San Quentin, and Merle was an inmate. It helped turn him around.
A turning point for Johnny was when he didn’t take “no” for an answer from Sam Phillips. He was sick of selling washing machines, and would be signed to Sun Records, doggone it. (Thankfully, Sam had sense in his head.)
Here’s something I’m trying to wrap my head around: The Objective World vs. The Subjective World, and specifically, how does that work with giving (or listening) to speeches?
An objective speech would state that Johnny Cash sold washing machines, then signed to Sun records. (History being “one damn thing after another.”)
A subjective speech would tell how Johnny Cash hated selling washing machines, and felt a burning in his soul, and then signed to Sun Records. (A telling of how he felt, and how you might, too, and what might be done about it.)
I’m trying to figure out how to put that in a science format. It’s easy to clobber the audience over the head with exponentially large numbers, and forget why we might care to gaze into Infinity in the first place. If you have any ideas, let me know.
Good Morning, Hafiz
Are you familiar with the Sufi poet Hafiz? (Ignorant of the timeline, I picture him as Rumi’s hippie younger brother.)
It was a beautiful morning for a jog, although I missed my neighbor from the old place. We’d often run together and commiserate about the world. I wonder if Hafiz ever went jogging with his neighbors? It’s an interesting thought. I bet Tony Robbins can be found running at odd hours, and as for Jocko Willink…watch out, he’s right behind you!
The waning moon hung above the earth’s shadow in the west, and the first golden rays of the sun kissed the lush grass.
If Hafiz had been along for the exercise, I’d imagine he’d go on about the Sun being a cosmic vat of maple syrup, the world a stack of pancakes, and all of us God’s breakfast, joyfully consumed.
Make it a great weekend! See ya Monday!
Josh