The Voice of Fire

I am the voice of Fire. I tell this tale because it is time.
In the early days, men huddled cold and frightened in the dark. One day I offered man an arrangement: "I will light the darkness, warm you in the cold and keep you safe from beasts if you will love Me, respect Me and keep Me." Man agreed and thus began a long friendship between man and Fire. From time to time man asked more of Me and I readily agreed to cook man’s food, help melt metals from Earth, and even forge them into tools and weapons. Then came the time when man forgot the agreement and enslaved Me. I was used to lift heavy loads and move giant metal machines and propel objects through Air to kill innocent people, and I was used to incinerate living beings. I was ashamed to be used so, and struck back, blowing up boilers, burning down houses and factories, burning forests and melting reactors. But to no avail. Mankind continued to use Me for evil and greedy acts. Finally, I called to the Keepers and said: “I will end the world of man, except a few of the innocents, and will once again agree to light the darkness, warm you in the cold and keep you safe from beasts if you will love Me, respect Me and keep Me.”

The Keepers agreed at once, and thus began the long vigil that was sure to end in terror, safe in the knowledge that at the end of the terror Fire and mankind would once again be friends.


Image: www.lessignets.com/.../16/First_atomic_bomb.jpg

The Inside of Fire

I think I am probably insane sometimes. The following account is true as best I can remember. I believe that I am a direct descendant from a line of fire keepers. I have been fascinated by fire since I was a small child. I have always loved fire and tended fire and kept fire. I believe that there will come the time when fire will caress me without burning.
I looked into darkness. Picture a large painting, light gray on the right, vertically. As your eyes sweep across the canvass the color gets progressively darker and bends to the left on the top. Towards the left side the color is as black and as dark as you could ever imagine. Deep, dark, black. And on the very edge on the left, a line of light. I looked into the darkness, darker that I could imagine and felt welcomed. I imagined that it felt soft and reached out for it. I pulled it over me and it was soft and warm. This darkness is the inside of fire. I know what fire is, and I know what the darkness is. And I am not afraid.
Image: whenthedarkcomes.blogspot.com/

Hecho en China

In 1989 Sal and I bought our first new car: Ford Bronco II. In addition to other considerations we wanted an American made auto. The dealer assured me it was “made in America”. When delivered it had a sticker on the window that said “Assembled in Newport News, Virginia”. How American is that? The owner’s manual told the story: Engine assembled in Canada; Transmission either Mazda or Mitsubishi; Tires made in America. The engine and transmission lasted 250000 miles. The tires failed in 20k,
“Hecho en China”. The words sent chills up my spine. Even the Mexicans are importing from China. My new custom window was thus marked: “Hecho en China”. I ordered it from an Iowa (heartland) American company, the window was fabricated in part in China, shipped to Mexico and finally to Tallahassee. What the hell? I really have nothing against China. I have been there and loved it (exclusive of the air). The Chinese make some fine things and have some fine people. But the sleeping tiger is no longer sleeping. It is eating us alive. I really thought the window would be giving Americans a job to do. At least the installer and his helper were locals. Hard to know where to go after this.
Image: humor.desvariandoando.com/tag/china

The Final Disaster

A hiatus in essays. I decided that I would wait until something good came along before writing again. Things in the world are so screwed up that topics that conjure anger or disgust or despair are easy to find, but the good bits are not so easy. I try not to be trivial in my comments (although it may not seem so to everyone). I thought about another food posting, or a story from the past, or a tale of moral import but none seemed right. So what to do? There are many individual efforts of goodness in the world that no one sees or hears about, but what do they tell us? That not everything is crappy? That the world is not going to “hell in a hand basket” as my dear old Mom would say? That the sun will come up in the morning on a new, kinder, gentler world? No, they tell us that the vast majority of humans are just trying to get along in life and live in some kind of peace.
I ask myself: “Why is it so hard to focus on these, the majority of the population?”
I think the answer is in the proximity of the various disasters, the variety of the problems and the very number of them. In the past, way past, disasters of one kind or another happened all the time, but we didn’t know about them all at once, if ever. It seems to me that the sheer mass of problems facing the world, and I include local and national issues here, drown out the goodness. It’s there, but lost in the storm of troubles. That overused “Perfect Storm” tag (that always is cast in threes) is probably a good metaphor, but not in threes. The list of disasters is long: political paralysis; genocide; starvation; trade in children; fires; droughts; war; mud slides; tsunamis; gigantic storms; banking failures; greed; murder. The list goes on and on.
These are not new to the world. What is new is that we know about the all at once. And the danger I see in that is the possibility that people of good faith and good intent will get inured to the dangers and turn away from the challenges they present.
That, I believe, would be the final disaster.
Image at: www.deviantart.com/deviation/19212014/

Global Weirding and Dumb Americans

I just read a NY Times Op-ed piece on Global Weirding. (Thanks Jerry for the tip). I gotta say it really pissed me off. Not the article itself. The idea that the world, especially China, is laughing at us for being so stupid and easily led. This is not the only thing about us that the world laughs at. The Europeans just can’t understand the way we let minorities keep the Evolution issue boiling on “high”, or the way a minority keeps the abortion issue boiling on “high”, or the perpetual state of turmoil over gay rights, or the way we apparently have a state religion in an obviously secularly founded and constitutionally secular state. Or the litmus test we apparently have for public officials: “Non-Christians need not bother to apply”. Do you really think that the best possible candidate for any office has a chance of being elected if he or she says “I am not really a believer in religion? In fact I am an atheist.”? If so, you are really deluded, and deserve the scorn the world heaps on you. President Obama was not openly attacked about being Black (although it was not far below the surface) but was openly challenged about being a Muslim (he isn’t). After all, his middle name is Hussein. That is how stupid some Americans can be. I better not get really wound up here or the NSA will be knocking on my door. The next thing you know, there will be a new version of the “The House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC or HCUA, 1938–1975).
Image: www.ghmadsen.com/The%20Madness%20nr16.htm

GO LINDSEY -- WE LOVE YOU

Lindsey Jacobellis. The press says,
“The 2010 Games gave Jacobellis an opportunity for redemption, and while NBC didn’t climb aboard her bandwagon as it did prior to 2006, it is always willing to sate those who froth for such pabulum. Jacobellis failed. Redemption, if she even believes in such a thing, will have to wait for another four years.” To which I say loud and clear: Bullshit!!. This woman screwed up once upon a time and paid a heavy price for that. She worked like a dog for four years, made the Olympic team again, competed and lost. Big frigg’en deal. Redemption? Who says she needs redemption? She worked herself back from personal disaster, tried her very best, and was an able and mature competitor. Losing in the Olympics is some form of DAMNATION? Lindsey “redeemed” herself many times since 2006. I say “Way to go girl!! Those of us who have worked hard for something and screwed up along the way are with you 100%”
See you in 4 years and win, lose or draw, we’ll be root’in for you.
Quotation: http://sports.yahoo.com/olympics/vancouver/snowboard/news?slug=jp-jacobellis021610&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

Image: http://www.findingdulcinea.com/docroot/dulcinea/fd_images/features/profiles/j/lindsey-jacobellis/features/0/image.jpg

eating bugs

Elsewhere I have mentioned eating strange things in Australia. Witchetty grubs (offered but declined) and ant bums are probably the strangest. We were also treated to various cuts of kangaroo and a fish called a Barramundi (by the way, a fine eating fish but a strange name). So when some friends told us we were going to get and cook some bugs I thought “I have had it with Aussies. Bugs my butt. I don’t need no stinking bugs for supper “and more graphic utterances. Can a thought be an utterance, or is it perhaps a thoughterance? Anyway, they kept us in the dark as to the nature of the creatures for the best part of a week. There was talk of “Moreton Bay Bugs” and "Balmain Bugs” and generic bugs. I assured the hosts that I didn’t eat the damn grubs and I wasn’t going to eat any kind of bug. Period.
Of course in the end I tucked in like a starving convict and highly recommend the bugs. They turned out to be a kind of crustacean related to the spiny lobster, only with short flat antennae instead of long ones. A real treat after all. God, but Aussies are a perverse lot, aren’t they? But here is a perversity that can easily transfer to the panhandle, because we have our own “bugs” here, called “bulldozer lobsters”. Tell your next dinner party friends that the appetizer will be an Australian treat made from bugs. Ha! And, if they cancel, all the more for you.

Image: http://australianmuseum.net.au/Uploads/Images/3469/Balmain-Bug_medium.jpg

Interesting Food: The Eel.

For as long as I could hold a pole, I fished. Night fishing in the Long Island Sound yielded blowfish, porgies an occasional small shark and lots of eels. Not a nice fish to catch. They wind up in the line with their slimy bodies and are hard to untangle. And, the slime has a nasty smell. My father loved them so we kept them for him. I refused to come close to the kitchen when he cooked and ate them. No slimy eel was going to pass my lips.
Then came that fateful day in Taiwan. Sal and I were honored guests at a sea food banquet (casual dress as you can see). One of the dishes (the dish names were printed in English for us) was called “net-catching dyctiophora”. We were assured it was a delicacy, very expensive, so we tried it. Good sauce. Another dish was simply called “eels”. You know the dilemma: don’t eat the eels and insult the hosts. Eat them and puke. We ate them. We didn’t puke. Good sauce saved the day. As the photos show, we had to eat with gusto. We did. Good sauce. If you ever are forced to eat an eel, insist on good sauce and like the advice my father gave me for oysters, don’t chew, just swallow.

Image: Photo of Sally and Woody eating small eels.

Love

I was on the road back home from dropping my son off where he lives and listening to one of my favorite albums. I have listened to this album 100’s of times, and today, again, there were tears. These songs about Australians mostly, go deep. Wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, bushies, daughters, lovers and ghosts. They are all there waiting to be heard again. And what they say is this: don’t be afraid to love someone with all your heart and soul. And if you lose them, love them still. Love is what life is all about, loving and living.

The album called "From the Heart" is by Di Hammond. Sal and I got to know her and Rob when they were in Tallahassee for awhile many years ago. Late night dinners and fires and singing and listening. And these songs. On the eve of Valentine's Day what could be more fitting than this album and the songs of love within. Thanks Di and Rob for a never ending well of hope and love. You guys are never far from our thoughts.
Image: Cover art for album :From the Heart

Archie's Third Lover

Archie actually had a third lady in his life. Her name was Monica. She was never without Archie's picture. As far as anyone knows, Archie never knew about this other love, but those of us who know Monica will never forget it.

Monica died quietly this morning after being sick for a long time. She was special in many ways. You couldn't miss it. Determined look and Archie under her arm. She lived in a place with my son and many other special people. This is an exclusive establishment in so far as only very special people can live there. Monica and the others usually led quiet lives, doing the best with what they had, and just being themselves. She didn't have much to say, but many of her friends were quiet as well. They mostly got along but there were some conflicts from time to time. On reflection, this description sounds pretty much like any group of special people that find them selves together. Like students in a dorm, or teams. I guess Monica and her friends were not as different as you might imagine. But she sure was special. Then, she got sick again and the Doctors were not optimistic. She died quietly this morning and we will miss her. And somewhere deep inside, I know that Archie will miss her too.

Image: www.weddingbells.ca/blogs/tag/wedding/