Life

Plant Joy. Harvest Peace.

At times I sense a deliberate effort by others to force us into a funk that’s frothed with anger and fear.  Bad vibes.   Pile on our daily happyius interfereus, like the episode I recently experienced with spouse’s health,   and it feels like a dunking in putrid mud. If I’m not happy, my family is not happy.  If my daughter is not happy, her family is not happy.  Frowns spread like yawns in a crowded room.  Frowns welcome anger and fear faster than []

Breathe in Peace. Exhale Peace.

As if Al Gore just farted in public, the blogosphere gassed-up a regressive debate about NOAA’s reported Co2 397.35 ppm reading at the Mauna Loa Observatory in Hawaii. To me, this denial is akin to my personal denial of why I can no longer squeeze into a size 8 jean

Am I Attractive Enough to Run for Political Office?

Perhaps by this post’s end, the answer to my question, “Am I good-looking enough to run for a political office?” will find an answer.  You see, I’m mightily confused about appearance, political office and political correctness. A confluence of events and random conversations pushed this question to the front.  In one news thread, Hillary Clinton’s political future rivals her hair for headlines; another thread chats up President Obama’s complimentary quip about California’s female attorney general; pundits chat about other possible 2016 presidential []

If I Were Gay, Would I Be Equal To Others?

I’ve been thinking about being gay. I’ve been thinking about what if the absolute love of my life was a woman. I’ve been thinking about gay/lesbian couples I know that honor each other and their children. Then I thought about how same-sex life-partners share the same care, anger, drama, joy, and tragedy that Mr. and Mrs. Bob and Mary Doe share. This is not my outing. I am straight, but what if I was lesbian and my partner was Jane not Clif? []

Guns and Lilies

A rambunctious passion fruit vine overcompensates itself in a portion of my garden.  A few under planted white calla lilies collide with the ravenous vine.  But the lily’s determination to break through the thick vine succeeds and an over-sized lily blossoms thru the vine—creating  a stunning garden contrast—and victory over the dominate vine. The recent arguments and defensive mechanisms by the gun industry is much like my overcompensating passion fruit vine.  Through its root, the National Rifle Association, an intertwined, over-fertilized pattern []

Questing Compassionate Love

When you visit my home, a bronze Quan Yin sits in her meditative pose atop a lotus flower. Her eyes are downcast; her right hand evokes attention or mindfulness, while her left hand rests on her knees and holds a vase of water. This goddess of compassion dominates my living area. A guest room is devoted to this bodhisattva, as is a portion of the garden outside of that room. Why the multiple effigies of Quan Yin?  She is both the  “ []

Hoping New BlackBerry Q10 is Purple

When I finally stepped up the cell phone ladder to my lavender BlackBerry I realized that I had wasted too many years with a plain old cell phone.  However, over the last few years  I covertly used my BlackBerry in public.  I didn’t want to look like some stubborn, technology-ignorant senior citizen.   Wait! I must reclaim that comment as I flashback to my bestie, EP (a cool guy in his 80s), when we had a lunch date and he stood in front []

Ice Age of Emotions on a Warming Planet

As seen in New Times SLO Once again this nation has discharged the looney-tunes world of uncompromising gun ownership. Meanwhile, the planet no longer politely speaks and now hands us looney-tune climate conditions.  Rude is rampant. Gun fanatics scream while Mother Earth kicks us like an old tin can.  I’m feeling like I might want to resurrect one of those bomb shelters from the early 1960s. I thought correlating guns and climate change was clever and original until I searched and found []

Pressure Cooking: Duck and Cover or Relax?

1956: Blub, blub, blub. Wheeze, whistle, spit. KABOOM! A silver lid with an attached gauge becomes a projectile and looks like a flying saucer shooting forth from its aluminum pot base. Scalding hot water takes to the air.  Someone screams, “Oh, my God,” in the background, followed by a 3-pound beef brisket that explodes like the A-bomb tests out in the Nevada desert. A mushroom cloud of brown meat rises above the white Westinghouse range.  Shrapnel-like bits of beef plaster themselves to []