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Moments. Those that stick

For the past few weeks, I have been in a combination of feeling morose, no, strike that, reflective and elated. You see, having been through many life’s experiences, a person needs to sit back and take account. Maybe not a full accounting but one that takes measure of their life. The people, the places, and of course, the events.

I look back over the years, now spanning into decades, and in that reflection, I realize that I have been most fortunate. I spent 6 years in the Marines, some of which, I have a dubious accounting of. I make jest of most of it, some funny, some making light of some very shitty circumstances, but for me, overall, it was something that I needed.

mom lynda me

Most of my life I have had a pretty lousy opinion of most authoritative figures, some conscious, some unconscious, but all in all, a pretty lousy opinion all the same. I had run ins (multiple) with an assistant principal in which I lost the battle,

every.

single.

time.

It began with witnessing the aftermath of a school mate who had committed suicide in his backyard using his dad’s .300 savage at point blank range through his mouth. The sight stays with me to this day. This was a moment that stuck.

I arrived at school that morning after seeing that bloody wad against a wall, who had been someone I knew. The principal felt obliged to explain to me and a few of my compatriots that suicide was a one way ticket on the express elevator to hell. I felt obliged to tell him where he could place his holy book and I left his office. Two days before the semester was out, he summarily dismissed me from school for a day I had missed without an excuse a few weeks earlier. It never got any better, so I finally decided that my ticket out was the armed forces, and more specifically the US Marines.

usmc-logo

In the first four years of my six year tour in the Marines, I made some serious mistakes, and had some epic adventures. I flew for the first time in my life to San Diego, CA where I attended boot camp. I traveled to Okinawa Japan, where I spent 14 months and 29 days of some of the screwiest times I had ever had. I fell in love, tried to make that a permanent situation and it blew up in my face. I ran with some great guys and laugh heartily at the temporary insanity that we all experienced over there. I had yet another run in with an authoritative figure which I handled well, in my opinion.

okinawa 83

I returned to California where I spent time in 29 Palms California. That was epic. We were assigned to go out into the field in the “Stumps” and inventory all the gear that Supply had out in the storage vans and 50 cubic inch boxes that they had scattered through the area they called “Supply”. When we arrived, we got off the “Deuce and a half” (two ton large truck), and were summarily marched to the large 20 man GP tents that were waiting for us. First thing you noticed was the heat. it was around 114 degrees Fahrenheit, and not a cloud in the sky, much less shade. The first thing they told us was at NO time were we to try to get shade in the tent, or sleep in it. It could kill you. and within the first week, one guy tried, and almost succeeded… in dying. The tent amplified the heat, it didn’t reduce it.

We had been there for two nights, where the temps dropped to about 20 degrees at night, so you bundled up in your sleeping bag on your cot and get the best sleep you could. On the second night I woke to a rumbling sound. In the haze of a good sleep I kept trying to figure out what I was hearing, and it just didn’t compute. I got up, and looked down and noted that there was running water on the ground. I kept thinking “what the fuck” did someone take a leak in the tent? Then two things happened. I realized that the folks that originally setup the entire supply camp had placed it in a very old dry river bed. and that we had a 3 or 4 foot wall of water coming at us.

The mad scramble to get our shit out of the tents, up the sides of the river bank was something you would see in the three stooges movie clips. We had our cots and gear floating downriver, the tent collapsing, and the water was rising. After a few minutes the water was from bank to bank and flowing furiously. a couple of guys went downstream a bit before they came out spitting muddy water and cussing like only a Marine can.

When first light came around the water was almost gone but with that? so were the big wooden boxes with a LOT of our supplies in them. Everything from tires to electronic chips to starters to repair parts for just about everything. and as we looked down the creek bed we saw tires sticking up out of the dirt, boxes buried by dirt, and all we could say was “HOLY SHIT”… So we spent the next three months sifting through and digging supplies out of the dirt all down the creek bed. Needless to say we were cussing the folks who initially planted our Supply depot in the middle of a creek bed. In seven different languages.

So after weeks in the heat, freezing at night, and living in the desert, it was getting old. I started walking to the concrete head (showers and bathroom) that they had in this camp. I was walking in the required red shorts, white t shirt, and either boots or shower shoes, carrying my shit shower and shave bag along with towel, pretty much on autopilot just slogging through another day. I look to my left, and I see a naked woman. running. I rubbed my eyes, shook my head, opened my eyes as she went right past me. naked as a jaybird.

It was a woman Marine, who had started out from the Women Marines tent, that was surrounded by concertina wire to keep the males out. (believe it or not) and she was scootin down the dirt road heading for the other end of the camp. I looked down the road and saw what appeared to be either a Colonel or Lt Colonel just chewing the shit out of a very young Marine who had obviously done something he didn’t like while on guard duty. This was the entrance to the camp, and the guard was required to stop every vehicle and ask them some kind of asinine question… anyhow, they both stopped, mid sentence and watched the gal sprint on by, laughing her ass off.

The officer then shouted at the guard to go catch her. He ran after her asking, no PLEADING for her to stop and she just kept trucking, dodging this way and that, laughing the whole time. He finally tackled her, and quickly covered her in his jacket and she kept laughing. I found out later that the gals had a connection with Motor T, and got a bottle of tequila brought in.. The gals proceeded to get pretty shit faced, and they bet her five bucks she wouldn’t streak through the camp. and off she went.

Later, a group of us were talking about it, and they went on and on about how stupid it was to do, funny, but just stupid.. Then I popped up, and said, well, while we are here in the “Stumps” baking every day, she is back in the BEQs in Pendleton, 3 people per room and has AC.. not sure how stupid that is.. they stopped, and agreed. Fast times in 29 Palms.

streaking

I also got to spend time in San Luis Obispo, and of course the fun loving town of Oceanside. All this, and more, courtesy of the USMC. I decided to get out in 1985 and go home via a road trip that I had planned for months. I rode my motorcycle from San  Diego, to Kings Canyon, Sequoia National Park, Yosemite, and made a grand tour of freedom after my first tour in the Corp.

yosemitehikes_com-upper-yosemite-falls-1900x1200

I spent a few days in Kings Canyon, then made my way to Yosemite National Park. I was told there were no camping spots available, and that I could ask the local ranger if they had a spot at each campground. I found a ranger who looked at me, then at my gear, then asked, “You in the Marines”? I said that I had just got out. He smiled, put his hand out, and replied “Semper Fi”. He too had been in. He pointed up a gully and said that I could camp there, but watch out for the mosquitoes. He wasn’t kidding. My helmet stayed on, as did my clothing while I put up my tent. Once inside, I had all I needed, a six pack of beer and a smile that wouldn’t quit. This was one of those moments that stick. Lying in a tent, in Yosemite National Park, a beer in hand and nothing but time… It was glorious

When you find yourself actually in a dream that you had been working on for months? It feels good, in fact, beyond measure. Happiness doesn’t begin to describe the elation of that experience. I can’t recommend it enough to anyone. Over the next few days, I went from California to New Mexico where I prepared to leave for Alaska.

You see, I had also bought a ticket to visit my older brother in Alaska. While I was enlisted in the Corps, my brother left Texas and New Mexico and went to Alaska. Over the next four years, I received these wild letters and pictures of my brother and some of his adventures in AK.

garrett-and-daonne

I was truly impressed and felt I had to go explore Alaska. I spent a few weeks there, did a 10 day kayak trip into Prince William Sound, and fell in love with AK. I watched Orcas by the kayak, spent nights in a tent on the shore of a glacier and listened to it growl. The feeling of complete freedom, and a respect for nature and all she had? this was another one of those moments that sticks

orca

I returned to New Mexico and found myself exactly where I had left. Lousy no pay job, no education, and heading nowhere fast. I reminisced about the Corps and talked myself into re-enlisting, and with that? I was sent to North Carolina, and shortly after that, to the Mediterranean, where I got to explore Europe which I also fell in love with. The people were welcoming once they got past the “you are a rude American” opinion. and I explored with gusto. On board ship, I got to experience what the first navigators of the ocean must have had. The stars were from horizon to horizon and there were so many! The sky was packed with stars, and finally I could understand how you could navigate by them, and fall in love with crossing the ocean. We would lay out on the flight deck and just watch the sky, another moment that sticks.

stars

My Lt who was in charge of Supply had decided that the warehouse would be on the LKA while he and the office staff were on the LST, a flat bottomed “Gator Freighter” where the brass of our MAU (Marine Amphibious Unit) were going to be. He was a fantastic brown noser, but not much more when it came to planning. That left us on a ship that never pulled into the same port they did. Which meant we were on our own as long as we kept our heads down, and after a rather terse discussion with the other Corporal, we all decided to stay quiet. We ducked our heads, stayed low key, and we “skated” while we were in the Med… We didn’t pull duty, we didn’t pull guard watch, my troops didn’t have to pull mess duty, this was golden.

uss-charleston-lka-113

We were able to go out on liberty every night, go on every tour that the ship offered,  and had no one to answer to. No duty, no watch, no responsibility other than to ourselves. Marines NEVER get it that good, but by god we did. And we went from one end of Europe to the other, and saw as much of it as we could. Another moment that sticks

backpack

My plan, while being in the Corps, was to save my money, and each year, take my leave and return to Alaska with the hope of buying land and a home. And by the time I retired? I would have a place I loved and it would be bought and paid for. Have you ever heard of “better laid plans of mice and men”? I spent endless hours buying books from our catalog and from mail order companies, then studying in great detail my routes to Alaska and places I wanted to see. I bought my backpacking gear with every intent on using it as often as I could just to prep for AK. I fantasized, I planned, I dreamed. On the mess deck I was living the dream of returning to Alaska.

mess-deck-1986

Eventually I was medically discharged, so my retirement plans vanished, but my plans of being in AK did not. And this is one of the most exciting memories of those days. I bought a small RAM D50 pickup truck, and with my dad’s help, put a small camper shell on it, built some small cabinets over each wheel well, and laid a foam crate type layer in the bed where I would sleep for the next two years. My father, who had divorced my mom when I was 12, and left us cold? Well, after years of being pissed off to no end, I had finally made peace with. and his helping me with that truck was a moment that stuck.

The adventure of going back up to Alaska was a dream reborn. I drove from New Mexico, visited some friends in Oceanside on my way up to Cordova, AK. We had all got out of the Corps about the same time, and they were all just hanging out in a 2 bedroom apt on the beach. about 6 or 8 guys sharing an apartment, but free of the suffocation of the military and the freedom to do as we pleased. Most had jobs that barely paid the bills, but it was freedom, that is much maligned by my civilian friends that have no understanding what freedom truly is. Let me repeat that. Civilians, never having served in the military have NO idea. This was a moment that stuck.

For about a week, I just relaxed with some great guys, and enjoyed Southern California. But eventually I had to pack and go. I was heading to Alaska. I loaded up and moved on. One of my regrets was not getting everyone’s full names and phones, as last name basis doesn’t go far in white pages. Sometimes even both names don’t work in looking up old friends.

I got to Oregon, and while there I stayed on the beach in a campground for a day. It was raining so I got my fishing gear on, and went for a walk down the beach. I can remember feeling incredible, I was, after all, a free man. I am sure the people who saw me out dancing a jig in yellow rain gear during a downpour on the beach was an odd sight indeed, but I cared not. The sheer overwhelming emotional overload of no longer having anyone to answer to was a joy. Those that have never served in the military will never understand what I am talking about. This was again, a moment that stuck.

rain-dance

Over the years, I have had so many moments like these, moments that have been my candle in the dark, or the impetus to plan yet another adventure that would make this life just that much sweeter. Since then, I have been blessed with the company of my wife, who was also my high school sweetheart. Lynda of whom I have multiplied those moments that stick by a factor of thousands.

I hope, no, strike that, I would ask, that each of you who read this? follow Mark Twains suggestion, and join me in those “moments that stick”.

 

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.

So throw off the bowlines.

Sail away from the safe harbor.

Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore.

Dream.

Discover.

– Mark Twain

Categories: Adventure, Adventure Travel, Backpacking, Bail on facebook, Camping, Family, Friendship, Hiking, like, Living Passionately, Love, Reconnection, Relationship, Spiritual | Leave a comment

Christmas! (and Landmines) and Angels Galore

Well, we have settled (for the time being) in Grand Junction, Colorado. We decided to park it here in Colorado for a plethora of reasons, however the main reason was that Lynda is pursuing her Masters in Complementary and Alternative Medicine. The cancer she was diagnosed with, and sentenced to, has been dealt with, a stage 4 prognosis that western medicine states that there “is no cure” seems to have been cured.

Lynda

Now, we are always reluctant to scream out “CURE” as cancer can be a sneaky bastard. so we go with NED.. (No Evidence of Disease). We have been in Colorado for what, a year and a half? 6 months in Breckenridge two winters ago, and last year here in Grand Junction. It has been pleasant, and we seem to be settling in nicely, but one never knows what the future may or may not hold. The past, however, is a different beast.

Lynda and I finally retrieved our stored “stuff” in San Diego, of which, included our Christmas decorations. We were both really looking forward to putting up the tree with our own stuff, and items with history to them. I began pulling the boxes from our shed and garage, and Lynda began putting them up including the fake tree

“click”

“What was that”?

“Hmmm hmm hmm” listening to country Christmas music we laughed and guffawed, eager to setup our home in the best of the festive new year.

BOOM

crater

Landmine.

I opened a box of ornaments, and staring me in the eyes was an ornament that Connie, my first wife who I lost to pancreatic cancer, was lying. It hit me like a brick. The date on the ornament was  1997 and I found myself propelled back to our home in Alaska, putting up the tree, along with my two cats, Einstein and Champagne, and I was acting a fool watching the two cats bat the balls around or chasing tinsel. Suddenly I realized that those days were long gone. She was gone. As were my cats. And I know that doesn’t sound like much, but they were my first family… and they weren’t coming back. It hurt.. soul deep.. something that is expected to last a lifetime? Doesn’t.

Connie

I  have spent much of my life trying to anticipate what was coming next, simple things like how long my truck would last, or heck, even if the stock market was going to go up or down.. you name it, I have continually failed at guessing what the future holds.. But I sure as hell didn’t foresee Connie dying, or my family vanishing one by one. I mean, yeah, I know that the cats had an “end of life” time on them, but while you are living the life, we simply don’t comprehend that end.

my einnie 2

And when it happens? It is as if your world suddenly stops spinning and there is this “Holy shit” moment that is impossible to describe.

At the same time, Lynda stepped on one, and it was an ornament that her mom’s picture was on. It was an emotional scene. We didn’t break down and lose it, but neither of us were far from it. Then? Top all that emotional energy  and with the fact that based on western science, Lynda shouldn’t be here either.

At that point we decided to go get me some coffee… (any excuse to take a breather). It is at moments like these that we realize how tenuous our lives are here on this planet, and all of us should celebrate each moment we have with ones that we love.. Because sometimes that 100 years you are given at the start of life, suddenly becomes a lot less.

We took the break, did some reminiscing, took stock of where we were and where we are. Dabbed our leaking eyes, steeled our hearts, and went back to it again. This time? Not so bad. the initial blasts caught us off guard, but only for a moment. I think that our experiences, our losses, have taught us to cherish what time we have, however much that may be, and to be mindful of our pasts, to not repeat any mistakes we have made over the years. and we both have made our few.

This year, we celebrate 10 years married, 12 years together, a record for us both. It has been by far, the best years of my life. I shudder to think what would have happened if Lynda had lost her fight as Connie lost hers. I won’t waste anytime contemplating nightmares, but I will, however, share a story about what I consider to be an angel among us.

 Angels – you never know when they might pop up.

 

Lynda was in bad shape. She was officially stage 4. This is terminal in any doctors book. And with breast cancer that has metastasized to the bone, it is a fast moving prognosis.

We had gone to Arizona to get her treated holistically by a naturopath Dr. Joe Brown. First, don’t let anyone tell you that holistic therapy is any less painful than allopathic (standard medicine). This was not the case for Lynda.

Lynda was in pain from the shots she received, and was not doing well at all. We had no idea if we were winning the war on her cancer or losing it. The xrays showed a spot on her shoulder that we refused to have biopsied, but we were sure it was cancer that had metastasized. This is commonplace for breast cancer..

The therapy was very expensive and insurance didn’t cover any of it. This was all out of pocket. We spent somewhere around 50-70K treating Lynda. We had cashed out our savings, our retirement and were going all out. For me it was an easy choice. I can survive without retirement, but I wouldn’t make it long without my wife.

I was working 4 ten hour days in San Diego, then driving to Mesa, AZ when I got off work and stayed with Lynda until I had to go back. I would go to therapy with her, hold her at the townhouse that her brother had bought earlier that year and let us use for free. (It was a rental property for him that he had just purchased). I will never be able to thank David enough for that place for her to stay.

I was exhausted. We were in financial binds that Lynda knew nothing about, we were looking at losing our house, most of our cash, and I was truly surprised that she still had a job.  Emotionally I was trashed. I was tired from the driving back and forth to CA, but I hoped that I showed none of this in front of Lynda. I told her from the start I was her “rock”. I would hold the course when nothing else could. She could stand on me, hold me, and I would always be there for her, no matter what. And if she got too tired to fight the battle? Somehow, I would find a way to fight it for her.. no matter the cost.

I had just left her at the townhouse, and was heading back to San Diego. I found a cornerstore to gas up at. I reached in my wallet and was scrounging for cash or card. We had spent a fortune, and money was starting to get tight. I think that was an understatement, it was tight… Medical expenses were stacking up, the house payment was looming and I was stressed. I stepped out of the car, swiped my card, and started pumping gas. Out of nowhere, this black guy comes around from in front of my truck and starts talking.

The first thought that goes through my head is “Shit, I am about to get mugged”. And as he stops, and begins to speak, I “SEE” this guy. I will never be able to explain this, but here is this guy, my height, but muscular, I mean in really good shape, dreadlocks, dressed neatly. I mean not ghetto, not all thrashed like most bums, but cleanly.. and he is asking for money. any change I can spare. but what has my attention is the aura of this guy. His presence… Suddenly?

The world gets small. and quiet. one minute I can hear the traffic, the planes people talking on their cell phones, doors to cars opening and closing and suddenly?

Nothing. Not a sound. It was as if time was displaced.

It is as if the universe just took in it’s breath, and is waiting to see what I do. In that moment, I was convinced I was looking at an angel. I can’t explain it any other way, and I am not a Christian by any stretch. But somehow this guy was a turning point in my life.. How I treated him would be given back to me… Ten Fold.  I could turn him down and send him on his way, and I was convinced that if I did?

The same would be done to me. I too, in some way, would be turned down. When I say that, I mean that if I decided to brush this guy off like I normally did most people begging for money, the universe would treat me the same way… Brush off any requests that I had made. Including the life of my wife…

I stopped him, told him to hang on a moment, and went into the store. I could see his shoulders sag a bit, and his smile lose some of its shine, and the world seemed to go a little darker. I went to the ATM and pulled out what I could afford to give, and then some. I went back and placed the bills in his hand,  and told him that it was what I could give.

The smile he put forth lit the area up. Suddenly the world was in motion again with the sounds and smells filling the air. He hugged me, thanked me for the cash, and walked away. I turned to look at my truck then back to where he had headed. He was gone. I mean POOF. He should have had another 200 feet to go, but he either moved quickly or something else happened.

At that moment, all the anxiety, fear, anger and sadness was gone. I mean gone. And filling it was the absolute certainty that my wife and I would be together for a long time. Lynda has often questioned how I can be so sure about her health. How can I not question everything? and in that, I can only reflect on that moment, that I had met something, someone that I could never explain, but the interlude left a lasting impression.

Now, since then we have had our challenges, and our scares, but today? she is still by my side, still healthy, and still my first and last love in life. That guy that I met? May very well have been just a bum and I was just tired and exhausted. Me? I like to think that it was a test. A challenge of my basic humanity, of who I am as a human being.

And like that test of my humanity, so are these “land mines”. they are a test of the love we still hold for those that have passed, and our love for those that are with us still. Not all landmines kill, some reaffirm our lives and our humanity

What I would ask of each of you that read this, reflect some, and hold those near you a little closer this year, and the strangers that you meet? Help where you can, you never know who they might truly be.

Merry Christmas to all. Be kind, open your heart, and help where you can.

 

Categories: Adventure, Adventure Travel, Cancer, Emotion, Facebook, Family, Friendship, like, Living Passionately, Love, Reconnection, Relationship, Religious, Social Media, Soul, Soul Mate, Spiritual | 4 Comments

Grenade… How quaint

You know, I just saw a quick cut of a movie called “The Faults in Our Stars” about a young girl with cancer and her life story. (I have avoided it like the plague as I don’t need any more emotional roller coaster rides from hell than I already have, thank-you-very-much)

She explains to someone that she is a “grenade”, and that, my friends is a pretty good descriptor. What she missed is, that she is a faulty grenade, as the pin is pulled the the timer?

Hand-Grenade-Pin-Out-848915
has a mind of its own

Anyone who has had the word “cancer” and their name used in the same sentence understands exactly what I mean. When someone does that to you, suddenly you become a grenade. A faulty one. You may go off, you may not. The pin may get reset, or you may stand there for years, staring at that fucking pin and that damn grenade and wonder, “Exactly when are you going to explode”?

Then the clock starts. You don’t know how much time you  have. Nor does anyone else. But a lot of them step away from you pretty quick or hide behind life avoiding the blast if they can. At least limit the damage they will experience. Tick tick tick.. fucking life’s clock just keeps on going. In the meantime? You stand there staring at the pin trying to figure out exactly why it got pulled and whether or not you can put it back in.

Then the circus begins.. A true three ringed circus, clowns and all. The doctors that are looking at another grenade, working to slow the timer. Nurses poking and jabbing, they too, doing what they know how to do to slow the tick tick tick of that fucking grenade. Then you begin to wonder, what can I do? what can my spouse do? what can anyone do? and in the background of life you hear that god damned timer still ticking.

You research, study, learn things about health and life that you really wish you hadn’t. and not sure exactly what to believe as half the shit on the internet is someone trying to make a dime, and statistics are made up 73% of the time on the spot. The deeper you dig the more confusing it gets. You hope for something, anything to help silence that ticking sound that is scratching at your brain like a splinter in your hand that you can’t get out. It is maddening. And still you hold that fucking grenade and pin…

Hand-Grenade-Pin-Out-848915

 

Slowly, if you are that lucky, you realize a couple of things. While you are driving yourself mad trying to stop  that fucking ticking sound, you can forget the single most important thing that you should be doing…

Living

Each tick is a moment wasted if you aren’t doing what you truly love. Each tick is something you cannot get back. Time is a commodity that you cannot trade or earn, you get what you get. So for those of you out there reading this? If you think cancer patients are the only folks holding a grenade in their hand waiting for that horrific moment that it decides to go off?

They aren’t the only ones.. You might want to look in your hands and see that each of us have pulled that pin, and time, for all of us is winding down. Cancer patients may have a shorter run of it, they may not. After you read this, you might want to re-examine where you are and what you are doing. If you aren’t doing what you love to do and who you love to do it with?

You might wanna change that before that fricking grenade in your hands goes off.

crater

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Break Time

Over the past few years I have joined Facebook with a passion. A place to post funny cat pictures, make a political rant, and with any luck at least get people to think about some political issue. If I was passionate about it, smart about it, or had a fancy meme, maybe I could change some minds and attitudes. In fact, in a small way, I could change the fricking world!

I was wrong

Hes right

It turned out to be a place to spew my opinion and any one who dared question it I would launch with hastily looked up data from dubious sources and convince them (or me) otherwise. What a waste of time.. I mean that. I have spent countless hours wailing away on cyberspace where most folks, like me, toss out their opinion based on what they have derived from whatever sources and then argue to the nth degree over essentially this point.

It is totally out of our control. I can’t change the political winds of this world anymore than I can change the time of the tide. and the same goes for just about everyone on the other side. We rant, we rave, we point fingers and accomplish nothing. Not one single problem the world is facing is being solved by arguing on Facebook. I manage to alienate people, piss them off, or just get a LOL and off they go. and nothing was gained. This should not be my focus, yet like a deer to a set of headlights, off I ride tilting wind mills again.

I won’t be solving the problem in fukushima, or the dog fighting in Detroit.  I can’t stop the cat killings in China or change the heading of our country. I sit and watch what I consider an irrational fear of everything that this country has become. We bounce from one emergency to the next. Gun control because of the gun nuts, no gun control because of the bad guys. Ebola in Africa coming to kill us all, some Haji in Iraq gonna shoot us all dead, School shootings, dog shootings animal rapings, in fact, words in cyber space are easily ignored, or liked and life goes on.

I understand that as I am as guilty as the next person. I try to stay above the fray, to focus on the good things, the up-worthy posts, or the cute advertisements about some guy making a difference while still remaining anonymous. you know the one, the guy who gets soaked by a water spout and  moves the plant under the water, rescues the dog and the beggars that he is giving money to, the little girl ends up in school. The ad is referred to as the “unsung hero”.

There is the point. He didn’t take a dozen pics of the little kid and post them on Facebook, he went home with a smile. What he did required action, not words. (Sounds like a song from Def Leppard)He didn’t go toot his horn about how great he was or what a good thing he did, he just did it. (and of course this is an advertisement, it is not real life). But the point has been made

But people do this all the time, take on a cause. Sometimes with success, sometimes not. I have taken on a couple, with mixed success. But each one had an effect on someone’s life. So, having some success has given me the desire to have a little more.. To help someone who can use it. To be “mindful” of other’s problems and do what I can to assist. I am not a world changer, not out to create a new order. Just out to make someone’s life a little easier. Give them a break, and maybe they will pay it forward. Maybe not.

I have become stunned at the amount of negativity on Facebook and the news in general. I know I shouldn’t be, as that is what sells. The next big drama, the next war, the next scary thing. Examples of that would be the following, you can pick your poison

  1. Global Warming
  2. Terrorists
  3. Anti-vaccines
  4. Ebola
  5. Russia
  6. China
  7. Syria
  8. Pot smokers
  9. Gay lifestyle
  10. American Taliban (hard core religious folks in the US)
  11. Cancer
  12. Venereal Disease (in any form)

facepalm1

All this negativity sells. The crap that the news agencies spew gets everyone in a panic for a couple of months, then it is on to the next made up disaster. I have tried to watch this without over (or under) judging. I have come to the conclusion that the news agencies rule the hell out of this country. They can start a panic, or create an issue where there isn’t one. Does anyone remember President Obama not wearing an american flag pin label on his jacket? The right would have hung him for being a subversive terrorist… oh, wait, they did that.

obamaflagpin

Back to my point. Somehow some obscure issue becomes front page news overnight with all the headlines screaming how we in the US are ALL about to die from Ebola! Measles! Terrorists! Bad Hair!

States-Seeking-CDC-Help-with-Potential-Ebola-Cases-640x480jpg

The part that I just find disappointing is that today? America has become paranoid and ripe with absolute chicken shits with zero spine. A group of people that get crazy about our politicians but never once have called their elected leader, or ever even sent them an email. I suppose that in addition to being a convict, a politician should have taken mind-reading 101. and THAT folks, is pointed directly at ME as well as anyone else that has this hanging over them. If we spent half the time writing our congressmen about our bitches and complaints, maybe something would actually CHANGE? So a new goal for me.. bitch as much to the politicians through their email as I did on Facebook.. (this should prove to be interesting) Make your congresspersons email as busy as your Facebook page.

On with the rant

A group of people that can go absolutely ballistic on another poster on Facebook, and god forbid that you agree with the one being targeted. I have seen people immediately stoop to cursing, ranting wildly, and in a sense, just lose their minds for a short while. Then I wonder what they are like in the real world. Is Facebook a place to put all civility aside and just run off until you spew out all your toxic garbage?

rant-and-repent

I have concluded that as much as I hate to admit it, I too have zinged those that disagree, after all, they dared to disagree with all the facts that I hastily looked up on the web, and since they are on the web, they MUST be TRUE!!!!! whoops, maybe not… dammit they were wrong.

In the meantime, the “shots across the bow” then label me as liberal, or right winger, or something else I can’t repeat here, after all this is a G rated site. Then everything goes up a notch as I am none of the above. My ideals have changed as the winds do, as the tide does. With experience and knowledge my opinions and actions have changed accordingly, and will do so again, I am sure.

So two weeks out and I don’t seem to miss the forray as much as I thought I would. In fact, I am finding less mental stress, more time to do things than bitch, and… working towards making my life better in hopes that others may follow. Will see what it all becomes. For those out there still pushing the envelope on social communication, a friend of mine, John Eberst, made a couple of suggestions should I ever decide to return to the social media world.

John, thanks for the quote: “What I decided to do is just not pay attention to any (most) conversation(s) that looked troublesome.  I turn notifications off on posts if they degrade and I stopped a lot of the group feeds that I was getting.  I miss some of the fun but I would get pissed off when people revert to name calling or some smug sophomoric argument.  The FB algorithms seem to be good and now I rarely see things that make me lose faith in our species”.

Well said my friend, well said.

Hippiness

 

Categories: Bail on facebook, dislike.. a lot, Facebook, Family, Friendship, like, Reconnection, Social Media, unlike | 2 Comments

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