If you can’t leave, it’s a prison, right?
If you are restrained, constrained, hobbled you aren’t free.
Are you happy being partially free or partially in prison?
Is your prison half-empty or half-full?
Man, I wish I could drive.
As I sit here in my prison chair I look upon a window upon a
window upon life and wonder if it is pretty.

p.s. saw the doctor today; my sentence for stupidity shall be satisfyingly short (all things considered). Foot is doing well.


philosophyon-line dating#7

There are times when I think it will be impossible for me to find someone on-line.
But then something happens to make it all worthwhile.

Recently I have been corresponding with a woman who also writes. She sent me this short prose which I enjoyed.

I have a window right above my head that I leave open year round. 
I can hear the night and feel the cool breeze tickle my hair and face as I sleep. 
I can feel and smell when the seasons change. I love the feeling of excitement and 
sense of renewal. The dust of winter is brushed away and a spring is in my step as I 
wake to birds chirping and the train whistle that signals a brand new day.

Normally my first reaction would be to say, “Man, it’s winter, close the window and lower the heating bill”. But that is not what I did. Instead I rearranged her words and wrote this:

Title: The Window
Birds chirp, train whistles blow.
My day starts with an internal glow.
Feeling excited with a sense of renewal.
I couldn't receive a more precious jewel.

Breezes tickle me as I sleep.
Letting me feel the seasons creep.
Because the window, right above my head.
Makes the best place to be, my bed.

This reminds me of times in the past I have sold photographs to painters. They get to paint a scene they never would have seen. The two are not the same and neither is better. But the whole experience is better.


Today was the big day. I arrived at the surgery center early. They were running late. It’s not like I had anything better to do. The people and place were great.

I don’t like surgeries in general and anesthesia specifically. Nothing has ever gone wrong in the past and I have had a few repairs, but my brain is my best part (in my opinion) and I just don’t like them shutting it down. What if it doesn’t reboot properly? So, I discussed this with the doctors and guess what, they actually listened to me. I was awake for the whole procedure. The anesthesiologist claimed he put some relaxant into the mix, but honestly, I didn’t feel any different. But what he did do was an awesome nerve block on my leg, didn’t feel a thing. I wonder how long that will last?

Recovery time, meaning how long before they take this cast off and I can drive again, as that is my purpose, is estimated at 4 weeks.

I took a few iPhone shots for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy.

The surgeon handed me an allen wrench afterward, he said in case the screw backed out. No, no, just kidding.


I found that other acrostic poem. Writing something personal fits me better now than buying birthday gifts:

Happy Birthday

Simmering delicacies made just so.
Iridescent beetle polish for your toes.
Mountains drenched in crisp clean air.
Open hearts, ready to share.
Nuts, chocolate, cookies too.
Each of these I wish for you.

And then there is Yoga. I hear it mentioned a lot. So I wrote for someone:

Title: A Salute to my Yoga Instructor
Breathe deep, exhale slow.
Get limber, touch your toes.
Twist into position, meditate.
Others looking in, think this is sedate.

You are old enough to be my daughter.
With your guidance I will not falter.
Some of your positions leave us to stare.
I really don’t think we’ll be going there.

Leaving your place, the day is shining.
As your instruction is a silver lining.

Someone was telling me of their vacation. Her and a few of her lady friends took their horses over to the Oregon coast. So I wrote:

The churning of waves
Salt in the water
The blowing of mist
Salt in the air
The grinding of sand
Salt on the beach
To be kissed
Salt everywhere
The churning of waves
Hoofs in the water
The blowing of mist
Hoofs in the air
The grinding of sand
Hoofs on the beach
To be blessed
Hoofs everywhere

The churning of waves
Friends in the water
The blowing of mist
Friends in the air
The grinding of sand
Friends on the beach
To be loved
Friends everywhere

philosophyon-line dating#6

Here is a good story:
When I switched over to from the first site I was on, I quickly ran across a familiar face. So I wrote her:

So, I started this on-line dating thing
About a year ago.  Different site.  Now I'm here.
One of the first pictures to grab me,
You know the kind, it just fits.
Green head band, boating, indeterminate location.
Beautiful sky, messy hair, but stunning smile.
Not forced, not staged, content.
I said to myself, wow, this on-line dating thing rocks.
You never replied.

And guess what, did she reply this time?
Actually, yes.
The picture I was referring to was still being used, but not as her main profile picture. She said I reminded her that it was her favorite also and so she switched it to be her main picture.

Then she told me that, although Scorpios can make great lovers, they don’t make great mates. And went away.


Jones Fracture

See, in the middle of the arch, that bone that is sticking down with the diagonal gap. That gap isn’t supposed to be there.

I was offered a choice.
1. Full leg cast for 10 weeks and it might work. If it didn’t then either recast or surgery.
2. Surgery. Cut the side of the foot, screw in a nice, expensive titanium screw, sew up. Recovery 4 weeks. Wikipedia says this is the only way to go for an athlete!

I won’t take pain meds. I dislike drugs. Surgery, really?

I picked surgery. Scheduled for next Tuesday.

Oh, can’t drive.


Yesterday I entered my martial arts studio at 7:30am.  At 5:00pm I hobbled out (to be explained) with the black sash that I had just earned.IMG_0500
But the story is not that simple, as is usually the case.  In early 1994 I first entered this studio.  By late 1997 I was one test away from black.  And then I moved to Tucson for a new job.  I kicked around down there but didn’t like the systems or the instructors.  So I went on with life.  Raising kids, having horses, entrepreneuring, volunteering, much like what everyone else does as they watch time pass.

And then I had my Big Meltdown (BM) which has led to this Driveabout.  Roughly 3 years ago I decided to restart my martial arts practice.  I called up my old instructor (Si Gung) and he agreed to work with me, which meant I studied at home and once a month I drove down to Salt Lake City for lessons.  Not optimal, but I had a very un-Zen like goal of getting that black, because, how many folks (especially my age) can make that claim.  Further, your body does need to keep moving and think of my martial arts as Yoga on super steroids.

My style is very eclectic and thus challenging.  My “manual” has over 80 pages of choreographed moves that I am supposed to be able to execute at any time.  There are many more that (seemingly) never got written down.  We also practice locks, pressure points, grappling and meditation.  The good side is the mental exercise and discipline, balance, control and overall great shape (yes I do have strong abs).  The bad side is I do get hurt.  A year and a half ago my knee got hurt during a group lesson.  I wouldn’t say that it is fully healed yet, but close.  And then this:IMG_0498
The reason I hobbled out of the studio yesterday is because sometime during the test I broke my foot.  Yes, it did somewhat interfere with my performance, but I persevered.  But that is not anything compared to what my mates did.  They literally carried me through parts of the test.  It is hard surviving one of these tests on your own.  But they were lining up to help me when it was needed.  Awesome.  Still brings tears to my eyes.  Thank you.

Is donning this belt, black as night
Cause of any concern and fright?
Is it imbued with mystical power?
Or proof of work, hour upon hour? 

5 animals provide the needed influence.
Struggling to find the elusive confluence.
Over and over, repeat and repeat.
Striving for that really deep seat.
Sweat and toil prove all their worth
For every effort put in the search.
It really does come down to pride.
A skill no longer able to hide.

That belt is not worn to say,
Do me no harm on this day.
Instead it is there to attest,
Someone trying to be their best.