Confusing Meanings?

I read from a recent Quora editorial, which I call because mostly it is opinions from one political group to another, that put out the difference between liberal and conservative people. His view, and I wish I could find that article to quote from, was that liberal minded people tended to be more concerned about appearances than Conservatives, such as the environment, social justice and coexisting. He used as an example the analogy that people of a liberal quirk seemed more apt to have a nice yards and nice houses with clean and tidy rooms. Conservatives on the other hand could care less and would rather be left to their own individual choices. If they choose to be a lazy slob it is their problem.

Now I for one must disagree with that example because I have many, many conservative friends who are anal retentive, clean freaks who do believe in appearances and how other people perceive them. The only people I know of who don’t care about how they look or how their lifestyle is are sociopaths. My stepson is an example of that type of person. He is also apolitical. He does what he chooses regardless of what other people might think of him or his personal appearances. People who constantly break the law, who devote themselves to doing drugs and being homeless and on the streets fits the definition of someone who doesn’t care about appearances.

While it is true that liberal leaning people are more about the group and conservatives tend to believe more on the individual, it has nothing at all to do with this notion that liberals who hold certain jobs are more about how they are perceived, than conservatives who hold more blue-collar type jobs and don’t care how they look. The author apparently only saw a portion of that dynamic and tried to convince everyone that it is accurate. It can’t be further from the truth.

The military are a group of mostly conservative minded people who are very aware of how they are perceived, and many are punished for not being in uniform, not adhering to certain standards of conduct and esprit de corp. The individual is not important to the mission, but the unit or team is of utmost important so the mission is successfully executed.

The same goes with most companies including the lowly janitor or delivery driver. There are dress codes that must be adhered to, policies and procedures that must be followed and an attitude of fellowship that must be maintained for that company to be successful.

I think the author of this editorial he wrote needs to reevaluate what differentiates a liberal from a conservative because he doesn’t really understand what is going on. Appearances are what matters to everyone regardless of their political leanings.

Another Bad Day

Like that song from Daniel Powter, I had one of those days I would soon forget. I like to think that I’m reasonably stable as far as temperament goes, but the crap, literally and figuratively that I had to deal with has made me very angry indeed.

It all started last night when I received a letter from a credit union that has the loan on the camper informing me the February payment is late. This morning I texted my wife to see what he deal was. Her reply was in the form of a question mark followed by “It was paid.”

She then went on a tangent about wanting more money for her mom and that she was sick. Then she said that if I didn’t believe her call the bank; not easy for me to do at work. I replied that the letter was dated February 12th. I then told her as long as it was for her mother, fine. The implication more than clear, as she replied that I was pissing her off. And I said that makes two of us.

She ranted some more but I had to clock in and didn’t have time to respond.

I’m at work now, doing the hotel back of house where I normally am. I go to one of the restroom areas and discover someone had smoked there. Most normal people, I would think, if there were no available ashtrays, that no smoking is the rule of thumb. But apparently common sense at a hotel/casino is not required. There were cigarette ash everywhere on the carpeted floor, which I dutifully vacuumed up.

Then I’m walking over to the lobby area and look outside where I see cigarette butt on the ground behind a butt disposal. I go outside to investigate and find that someone opened the back door, dumped all the butts from an inside tin can and apparently took the cigarettes they wanted and left the rest for me to clean up. I did of course, then I go to the other restroom area. Just outside is a smokers’ area with the same type of butt disposal unit, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t tampered with too. It wasn’t, but…

On the entry mat by the door was a pile of dog crap. Apparently one of our wonderful guests thought it a good idea to take their Fido or Bowser for a duty walk but thought he needed a cigarette break too. The dog apparently was in no mood to wait around for ignorant master to finish his smoke and proceeded to unleash on the entry mat, an overabundance of fecal matter just in front of the doorway. SHHH, don’t tell anyone.

I called my supervisor on this just so that she could see for herself why I was angrily telling I needed help with taking care of this problem. No sooner did I call her than someone in maintenance called about a bio issue in the team member restroom downstairs. Obviously, I couldn’t very well stop what I was doing and take care of that problem. Another male housekeeper was tasked for that fun job. He told me it was delightful in a most ironic tone.

Two mats were removed and one was replaced, I cleaned out and threw away the doggy mess and went downstairs hoping that was the end of that problem. It wasn’t. Again, dummy me goes outside to the other smoking area just outside what is called the Spa area. Once again butts are strewn about just outside the butt disposal unit, its back door opened and the tin can out and up-side-down next to someone’s frozen vomit. Obviously that mess would have to thaw out first before I or anyone else could or would clean it up.

I was in a dark humor for the rest of the day, venting out my frustration to anyone who dared listen to my rant. I guess I must chalk this whole experience to how we are a culture have to deal with the ignorance of others, from the adle-minded druggy who thinks it must be okay to smoke anywhere, to an autocratic dictator who decides he can invade his neighbor and feel he can get away with it because he is Vladimir Putin. Hopefully sanctions alone will make him change his mind but I doubt it. The only answer for someone like that is what eventually happened to Saddam Hussain and Muammar al-Qaddafi.

Poetry in Motion

Wednesday night Northwest writers’ Guild did poetry for a change of pace. We are after all dynamic and always try to stay one step ahead so no one gets bored and stale. Linda the writer, our coordinator did some fact checking for us. She told us about the different kinds and types of poetry there is and the fact, which I already knew, that poetry went into music form and have remained so to this day with lyrical and ballad types.

I also know that poetry comes more internally, from the heart, whereas prose is more about what we the writer experiences on an external level where we describe the world around us. Poetry conveys emotions and thoughts, feelings and experiences that are within us. Where prose is driven by the writer to logically or ethically persuade the audience (logos and ethos), poetry speaks through our emotions (pathos).

I am much more persuasive writing from the heart, than I am trying to make an argument through reason or verifying facts as I know them. Invariably some will come along and tell me I’m wrong. But they can’t reason or disprove emotion such as love or love loss, seeing a newborn baby for the first time or going to a funeral. Those impactful emotions are what drives poetry to its very foundation.

Our group then set about reading our own poems that we’ve written some of which was published in journals or in a collection of poetry. I listened to some and they don’t always rhyme. Mine don’t. When I bare my soul, I can’t waste my energies trying to figure out a word that rhymes to another word. It is too much for me.

I was in a blue period in my life in 2009. Both my parents died. Dad was expected, Mom’s was a complete and shockingly tragic surprise just eight weeks after Dad. She hit another car head-on into a larger car and died instantly. I drafted several poems about her and the accident and about what happened to me and my sisters from my own internal perspective. They are not meant for anything more than therapy in dealing with sudden death, never to be published unless my sisters feel the need after I’m gone. Or my wife.

One of the writers uses poetry in his narrative. It’s something I have also done in a couple of my books I’ve written. I’ve even gone so far to include verses or passages from the Holy Bible that conveys or supports the theme of the story. He told us his more favorite poem and mine too is the “Love Song of Alfred Prufrock” by TS Eliot. It is a bittersweet poem that when first read, as I first read it in high school, made no sense. But then as I grew older and experienced that poem in other literature and poetry classes in college, the meaning conveys much more and that is the whole point of poetry. How it makes us feel as we read it. Another favorite is Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” I can’t tell you how often I read that poem, especially when I’m depressed and it appears to lift up my spirit and see life in a new light.

Poetry moves me into an emotional and spiritual direction that prose tries but sometimes comes up short, though I have read prose that are in essence poetic just by the way the author arranged the words and the tempo so that it is by its nature a verse of poetry. Sometimes it’s an accident and sometimes the writer does it on purpose to draw the reader further into the story.

If it weren’t for music in this day and age, poetry may well have been a relic of the early 20th and nineteenth centuries. The music industry is in essence poetry in motion. I understand what drives rap and hip-hop though I personally don’t care for it, the lyrics that drives it is a form of urban poetry whose writers point out hard core realities of living in an urban environment.

Songs such as ”Blowing in the Wind,” “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” and “American Pie,” are anthems as much as they are poems or song lyrics played out by musicians. “How Many Roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?” That is nearly prophetic in its scope considering when Bob Dylan wrote those lyrics. It awoken a generation and a movement to stamp out prejudice, racism and hatred. That is poetry in motion

Revolving Door

I texted my wife the other day because she texted me late last month that her son was kicked out from his grandmother’s house for drinking alcohol on her property. He went to Boise, a two hour plus drive from Gooding, Idaho.

“Who does he know in Boise?” I texted her.

The phone rang and I saw it was her. I also set the ring tone to her personal ring tone. That way I can answer right away know the difference from someone attempting to sell me ice in winter.

“He doesn’t know anybody there,” she said to me. What the heck? I thought to myself. His father lives in Twin Falls. I had thought he already made plans to live there at the first of the year, but apparently that plan fell through. She continued, “He was in a homeless shelter, got himself rolled. He got the crap beat out of him, lost his coat and all his money and wound up in the hospital with serious internal bleeding. Then he went back into his psychosis and is now at Black Foot, Idaho.”

I heard from Tom the stories, which the way he described it was probably mostly fabricated to try and instill fear into Terry. I’m sure, knowing what I know about Terry after twelve years, he most likely blew it off and continued believing the lies from women on the internet scamming more money from him. At any rate Tom told me they are a privately run hospital, though the website shows they are part of the Idaho Department of Health and Welfare. And that they could keep him there doing all kinds of experiments on him and get away with it forever.

I simply told Stephanie that “Maybe someday he’ll learn that rules are there for a reason. We don’t make the rules up because we are mean. When Lillie said no drinking on her property, she obviously meant it.”

As you all know I have chronicled his mental health issues since I started doing blogs starting in 2014. Every two years something snaps inside his head and it has become a revolving door of drug and alcohol over use followed by a bout of psychosis where he spends months there getting fed anti-psychotic cocktails until he gets back to a state of normalcy. Terry gets released and the cycle repeats itself. This is the fifth time in eight years that his mind has gone into his own zone. He likens it to a deep sleep and then he wakes up sometimes months later. He never remembers anything that occurred during this time, which is very scary.

I hope this time will be the last time, but again it is up to him to make that decision and stop the revolving door once and for all.

A Welcomed Surprise

The other evening, I was watching Wheel of Fortune when I saw one of the guess wearing an army uniform. I had to do a double-take because it was class A uniform that was worn during the Second World War. Was this hoax or some sick joke this guy was playing on Pat and Vanna? Was he trying to pull one over on America?

I had to find out for sure. When I joined the Army National Guard we were issued dress uniform that fell into two types depending on the weather and job or function. A Class B uniform was assigned mostly to those people whose jobs involved working behind a desk. A Class A had a more formal function worn in a more ceremonial occasion. There was also the Blues which were for mostly officers and upper echelon NCOs that they had to purchase special order just as the Marine Blues.

Our Class A uniform we jokingly referred to as our pickle suits. If you had them tailor made, they looked sharp. They were an evergreen color with pale green shirt, black tie and brass belt buckle, which wasn’t seen when the jacket was buttoned, and a pair of highly glossed dress shoes we called low quarters. If you were an officer there was a black stripe running down the length of your creased and pressed pants.

Enlisted and NCOs had their ranks sewn on their jackets, while the officers had their rank designation as pins worn on the shoulder boards. Any service ribbons were worn on boards on the upper left. Stripes that designated years of service in three-year increments were worn along the left sleeve of the jacket any overseas service had stripes on their right sleeves.

So, I did just that looking online and finding the Army website and seeing to my surprise that it was true. In their promoting words, “The Army wore the iconic Greens uniform when America was in the throes of World War II. We are still that Army, and we’re reinstituting the uniform worn by the “Greatest Generation” to give our Soldiers a uniform for professional environments that honors our heritage.”

I just wish we were chosen to wear that uniform. It looks so much sharper and professional than what I wore for 23 years.

Writer’s Update

I know it’s been awhile since I last updated you my loyal readers on my latest projects. After I finished a trilogy on the Nick Roberts Mysteries, I thought I would strike out in a new direction. The character in question isn’t new, it’s Chrystal Guilderbund, the big boned woman with self-confidence issues except when she is shooting her pistol, a Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum she inherited from Grandpere Guilderbund the famous western fiction writer.

The story takes over where the last book ended. When Robert Young the lawyer pays her for her company’s services, he hires Chrystal to find the person behind the unearthing of her daughter’s and the other three murdered victims remains. But that’s not all. City Police Detective Michael Schwartz inadvertently gave Chrystal a flash drive that not only had the police reports of the desecrated graves, but also a video of a woman raped and abducted who admits to being a slave to a man named Boris. She also embedded in the video a link to illegal accounts.

Chrystal not wanting to pass up on this huge case, begs Detective Schwartz to let her help him solve the case of this woman, whose body was found in an alley in Billings Montana. He naturally refuses and tells her he needs the resources of the FBI. She responds that her team is made up of many former agents herself and can more than make up for any discrepancies Billings Police might have.

As all of you know I write by the seat of my pants and I’m formulating the plot as I write. So, I too don’t know how this will pan out for Chrystal, or for Detective Schwartz for that matter. At this point both have just apprehended one of the people responsible for unearthing the remains of the four murder victims from the last book that I named Onion Breath.

This book I tentatively titled Grave Robbers. At this point I’m not certain if I’ll do more than one book. One wrinkle I have done on the story is point of view—it’s in the first person. While it offers me a bit more freedom, I’m also limited because I can’t do sub plots where I use other characters’ storylines to enhance the whole book’s effect on the reader.

At any rate, I’m going to be pushing the envelope both in size and scope of what I’ve written previously. It’s a challenge I’m looking forward to.

Putin’s Goal

Like many of you my loyal readers, I have an opinion of Russia’s President Vladimir Putin. To say the least I don’t like him, never have, never will.

Apparently Biden doesn’t like him either and sees the latest crisis in the Ukraine as something akin to empire expansion. But apparently Biden doesn’t appreciate Russian History enough to understand not just where Putin is coming from, but what the Russians themselves truly believe is their goal of preservation by creating a buffer from European incursions. They need a buffer in their minds because history after all ends up repeating itself.

Buffer from the west could lead ultimately to his downfall.

Like it or not, Kiev is the ancient capital of Ukrainians, but also of the Russians. Furthermore, the Russians hold that Ukrainians and Russians are one people* as Putin himself elaborated on at length this summer. You are free not to like this, but it doesn’t change what the Russians sincerely feel.

From https://anti-empire.com/can-russia-offer-more-than-its-ancient-capital-as-a-buffer-zone/

Now, a quick history lesson into Russia’s past. I understand where Putin is coming from because he is after all is said and done a preservationist. I took a class in Russian and Soviet History in high school so that I could understand better their mindset. Why are the Russians the way they are? And why are they so big in the geographic sense?

The answer is simple. The Mongol horde that invaded from the east was why. The Mongols saw fit to invade and destroy, rape and pillage the Russians’ ancient capital, Kiev and what is now called Moscow. When they left the Russians benefited by expanding their territories east. Now they were protected against those countries over there.

From https://www.theworldbriefly.com/buffer-borders-russia-s-security-policy-explained/

When Peter the Great came on the scene he sought to make Russia a great empire that rivaled the super powers of that time, France, Spain and Britain. He not only modernized the Russian Army and created a navy, he also expanded westwardly, offering more security for its capital. In hindsight it was almost prophetic in that two events occurred later that seemingly fitted his “greatness.”

Firstly, there was the Swedish invasion led by Christian XII. The vastness of Russia wore down the invaders who were eventually defeated at Poltava. Secondly, Napoleon’s failure was possible, in part, because Kutuzov had room to retreat, wearing down the superior French army.

From: https://www.theworldbriefly.com/buffer-borders-russia-s-security-policy-explained/

Of course, the Nazi invasion in 1941 in which Hitler only learned one thing that Napoleon did not possess, Armor and aircraft which he was only partially successful, but once again, the Russian winter proved a fatal flaw in Hitler’s calculations.

This made it obvious that the buffer zone need be big. Consequently, the states of East-Central Europe would end-up paying the price. They became satellites of the Soviet Union. If the West would ever try to invade the heartland again, there would be plenty of time to mobilize.

From: https://www.theworldbriefly.com/buffer-borders-russia-s-security-policy-explained/

To the issue facing us now. Once again, just as after World War One, their buffer has shrunk. The former Warsaw Pact, dissolved and deserted to NATO, a geo-political rival, and the only thing standing in the way of them invading Russia is Ukraine.

It’s seems a bit oxymoronic because most every European nation has put most of their military eggs into one basket, a nuclear arsenal that recognizes no buffers or borders should it come to this conclusion. It is also a sobering reminder to everyone involved in this crisis that if Putin is pushed, he wouldn’t hesitate to use his nuclear arsenal.

Last week, Russia sent the United States a list of its demands for defusing the crisis: a binding promise that Ukraine will never become a member of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, plus the removal of all NATO troops and weapons from 14 Eastern European countries that have joined the alliance since 1997.

Is it unreasonable? Not to Putin and most every Russian citizen who looks westward with a certain degree of apprehension. If the shoe was on our foot, how would we react if say, Canada or Mexico had as much military and economic power as us and became if not belligerent than downright uncompromising in making certain demands on us, including possible invasion of our borders. We too would want a buffer to protect ourselves from their influences.

While I don’t particularly like Putin, but from the lessons of history, I see where he is coming from. Biden needs to respect this as well, even if it means allowing Ukraine back into the arms of Mother Russia.

Selling My Brand

My Writers’ Guild coordinator emailed me the other day about something I had done last month for our last meet up. It was the essay I wrote called The Gully that I submitted for you my loyal readers to enjoy. She asked me if this was a blog because this month’s meet up discussion topic is blogging.

I replied to her query with an affirmative and then explained to her that unlike most authors who write about what they are doing in regard to a project that they are either presently working on or promoting as a recently published book, I have gone a slightly different route by trying to promote my writing for all of you to see and appreciate.

On occasion I do the promoting of a new book that I had recently published, but I also do other things which many of you know is a goulash of various topics that I find interesting and put into writing. I have a number of other writers through word press and twitter who do the same thing. They self-promote but then they also write about current events that is shaping our lives, a person of notoriety who for good or ill has become a catalyst in our lives, or a political topic that I believe is an important issue for discussion. I have also written whimsical narrative to give you a fresh eye on my abilities as a writer.

I hope that what ever she thinks a blog should, I don’t believe it should only be about selling the book I wrote or the project I am about to embark on. I believe selling my brand as an author is just as important if not more so.

I’m wrong. I need to sell my books as a marketing ploy and not sell myself as a writer. I don’t know if that would sell more of my books or not. What is that saying six of one, half dozen of another? Should I focus solely on selling books or selling my brand through creative writing? I guess you the reader out there are the best judges for that.

A 2 Z

Like most places we are getting our fair share of attendance issues at work due to either COVID or a persistent attitude that work isn’t all that important anymore for the average worker. I came to work last Thursday and was informed that a team member, actually two team members no longer worked here.

I’ll call her Amy and she was a bright and pretty 20 something, single and coy. She never shied away from teasing the other male team members, including me though everyone knew it was all in fun. Zeke was also 20 something and had that kind of ear piercing that looked like he used an auger to drill out the holes in his ear lobes. I guess it’s a fashion statement for this new generation. At any rate he too liked to tease and enjoyed Amy’s company. They were both in the same department and were always within ear shot of each other. I talked with them whenever I was in the lobby and whenever there was a slight pause in the day.

I talked with their fellow team member Thursday and she informed me that Amy and Zeke no longer worked here. I gave her surprised and probably curious expression. “Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know what really happened but there is a time and place for certain things and this wasn’t and they got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.”

Well, she is probably pretty close to my age and gave me a wry smile as if what they were caught doing was naughty and sinful, but she didn’t publicly state exactly what they were caught doing.

I didn’t need a boulder falling on my head to get an idea of what she was talking about. I left the issue alone as she had to assist a guest with his luggage.

I talked to Amy some weeks ago and she was upset with another team member along with her direct supervisor. She admitted then that she was looking for a way out. I guess she got that plus fringe benefits with Zeke. I don’t know if that was his plan.

So now this particular department is short staffed. We have two restaurants that are closed due to staffing shortages, and my department, which normally is barely hanging on, now is in critical mass because of people we either had to let go or chose to go somewhere else.

Of course, I thought I had made that decision over nine months ago, but then I had to return. I honestly have never experienced a situation like this. It’s as if this pandemic has released a genie from its bottle and it isn’t about to go back. For once the workers actually control the nuts and bolts of this economy. It’s both exciting and scary.

Happy New Year, Maybe?

Well, 2021 is about to become history and what a year this has been, globally, nationally and personally. What is 2022 going to conjure up? It’s hard to say, though with Putin amassing his troops at the Ukrainian border, war seems likely unless someone other than Joe Biden can come up with a last minute solution to this crisis. And what about COVID? How many more thousands are going to die this next year because it’s their god given right to choose?

I saw on the news that we lost a lot of celebrities and politicians and other public figures such as Bob Dole, Harry Reid, Hank Aaron, Charlie Watts and ZZ Top’s Dusty Hill. Most lately John Madden and just today, Betty White passed too. They will be missed and were considered legendary in what they did. Who in 2022 will go to that great beyond?

Personally, I thought I was going into early retirement and move to Southern Idaho and see just how Red that state is. I lived there nearly six months before Tom, Lillie’s husband asked me to either pay rent or leave. Work equity or sweat equity wasn’t helping pay the power bill. I returned and discovered I lost a close co-worker, who died from COVID. So yes, I too was touched by that horrible disease, and another who died from cancer, also a horrible disease that needs a cure.

Corona virus did a number on my book sales too; abysmal best described how well received A Man’s Passion was, even though I poured a dear amount into marketing and unfortunately nothing came of it. I had hoped to at least break even and reinvest what I earned into my other two projects that at this point are in a state of limbo. Not just the marketing but the bread and butter of an author, book signings. I couldn’t get any book store here or down in Idaho to hold a signing so long as there was a potential for the virus to rear its ugly head.

So, good night to 2021 and good morning to 2022. I hope this is the year that we see the end of COVID once and for all, some pieces of the Make America Better gets passed in the Senate, and we can for once coexist on this our planet without bias, hate and want muddying up the waters of next year.

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!”