Since I've had my Kindle, I've read 30% (nearly 300 pages) of Stephen King's "11/22/63". I began "Les Miserables" by Victor Hugo, "The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and am 11% into the free "sample" of the unreleased James Patterson novel "Private London". Took a trip to the Torrance library Saturday morning (first time in about 10 or so years) to ask if anyone in the library system had gotten any ideas for "lending" ebooks through the internet. (One of my hare brained ideas.) They're "working on it." I was told! So I'm not writing much. I'm reading again. (There's so much on my kindle that I really had to push myself to exit the library without a stack of books I wouldn't have time to read. (James T. Farrell's Studs Lonigan is the first novel I ever checked out of a library. That was back when I was in fifth or sixth grade. I found a 1941 edition in the stacks. The Kindle edition costs $18.99. I'll be back. )
I have been going on Photo Expeditions. Gas prices are down (to $3.69 a gallon, a steal here in SoCal). I ventured into Riverside County last weekend and took some great shots of planes at the March Air Field Museum, with the requisite cloudscape background. I'd planned on going to see the Orange Empire train museum in Perris, and maybe take some neat photos of the rock encrusted hillsides, perhaps even go to Perris Lake or Lake Elsinore, but a sudden rainstorm of the type which causes 41 car pileups put the kibosh on those plans. I couldn't even see the lane markers on the "91 River (freeway)" coming back into Orange county, and got off the freeway thinking I'd rather drive through surface streets with stoplights than to stop my life if I got involved in a 41 car pileup.
Yesterday I washed the car. So, of course it rained this morning. Not enough to get the car wet, which is parked in the carport. At about 9:30am, as the sky became warmer, and Mr. Sun came out from behind the rapidly receding cloudscape, I was off to Redondo Beach.
Sorry for so many ocean themed photoposts seemingly in a row. But hey, everybody has an ocean, as the Beach Boys sang, and this one is MINE. I decided to take my walk alongside the ocean. Here are the steps leading down to the beach from the end of Knob Hill Avenue.
Some surfers were catching some waves.
Being me, I climbed up on the breakwater to shoot the surfers through the rocks.
The sun glistened on the waves. I'm using my telephoto lens for this shot.
Here my footprints can be seen marking up the newly raked sand. Almost as if I were the only one there. I wasn't of course. The sun was bright and the near freezing night temperatures fully gone by the time I took my walk. I'm using the wide angle here. I'm glad I got a new charger for my Sony Cybershot. I'd been using my Olympus, but I know the settings on the Cybershot better, and like the photos it takes much better than the Olympus. (The Sony takes photos at 7.2 megapixels, and I use them all. The Olympus is an 8.0 camera)
I decided to walk all the way to the Redondo Pier. (About a mile) Haven't been there for a couple of years. Surprise Surprise. It's been getting a complete makeover. This has happened a few times in my recent memory. Once after most of it was destroyed in storms during the late 80s and once after Tony's on the Pier was burned in a fire. They rebuilt some of it (last year) to resemble the pier as it was in the late 1890s.
A wide angle view right down by where the waves crash.
Of course there are lots of birds.
The Redondo Pier is a "horseshoe pier" which circles around inside the breakfront. The blue building is "Old Tony's" a bar/restaurant which celebrated it's 60th birthday last year. That means it's about a year older than I am. I used to love to eat at "New Tony's" before it burned down, and had my "last meal" at the original Tony's with Liz before going in for my hip revision surgery in 2009. I believe that's the last time I was at the pier.
The Redondo Pier is the largest "endless pier" in California, and the current iteration is the seventh. This one is made of concrete. I shoot the Redondo Library (in the center of the shot) from underneath a thatched umbrella.
South toward the Palos Verdes peninusula. I love how the sunlight highlights the water. It's almost noon.
Not too many people are out an about this early in the year. The place is packed in summer, which begins after our two or three week Spring season in March. (USUALLY. Can't really put a finger on the weather patterns the past few "seasons". Last year I visited San Clemente in Orange County in January. Redondo Beach is a lot closer to home. In the early 80s I lived in Hermosa Beach, the town immediately north of Redondo.
I figured I'd take a stop at the Fun Factory. This is an arcade which has been around a long long time. Ho Tei welcomes us inside "The Best" place on the pier. (I just had a bit of a scare. I'm typing this up on my home computer, with it's 32" screen, otherwise in the dark. I've bragged that there have been no bugs in my home since I moved in back in 09. A very large spider dropped in front of the screen just now. Two nights ago I was bitten by a spider on the leg, possibly while I was in bed, and just tended to my wound a few moments before coming back in here to finish my post. They're probably in up in the ceiling somewhere, dropping down to get me. I'm having the heater guy coming in tomorrow. Think I'll have to call the pest guy too. Ah, the joys of home ownership.....)
Now where were we? Oh, yeah. I think this painting has been around for longer than I can remember. I used to come down to the Fun Factory in the 80s to play Galaga, Centipede, Frogger, Donkey Kong, Pac Man, and Tempest!
Some of the games have been here forever.
The proprieter (as I said, not too many people around, even though it was a fantastic day) chuckled as I dropped down on my back to get this shot.
Moi. Just another clown on the pier.
Stack em! Skee ball!
Those machines in the center supposedly drop coins off a shelf, but they never did for me.
Tilt a Whirl!
I painstakingly made sure I got the tops of the pilings in this shot. This is Mr. Seagull from my title card above, flying away when I got too close for his comfort, as is his wont.
The destination sign in the courtyard of the Quality Seafood restaurant. Tokyo's only 5451 miles away.
I like to make a stop at one of the gift shops with a particularly fun window display to get some shots "behind glass."
Almost wish I had enough cash to buy some of these figurines for display in my home.
If you look closely, on the left, one of the Day of the Dead figurines looks like he's sitting on a stool in front of a food stand reflected in the window. I didn't plan this. Just a serendipitous shot as it came out of the camera.
Here is the interior of Tony's where I had lunch. Almost took a photo of the clam chowder in it's sourdough bread bowl, but ate it instead.
The view from my table.
Walking back to my car along the strand. This is the breakwater on which I was standing taking shots about an hour and a half earlier. Lots of folks walking about now.
A young surfer and mother walk in front of the lifeguard tower. The breakwater is in the center of the photo.
I climb the stairs back toward my car.
Almost did a little dance up the steps.
Lastly, palm trees and cloudscapes reflected in my shiny new hubcaps. I want to thank everyone who watched my "Dance to 2013" video and left such wonderful uplifting comments. I don't know why the entry never even made it to the top blog page at all, but it was the number one recommended entry for a couple of minutes there. I do plan to make visits, but when the day is like it was today, I just gotta get out of the house, you understand. Now it's late and time to go watch a blu ray, make tomorrow's lunch and go to bed. Hopefully I won't be sharing my bed with anymore spiders.
“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching, Love like you'll never be hurt, Sing like there's nobody listening, And live like it's heaven on earth.” ― (old celtic saying attributed to many including Mark Twain, William Pukey (actual words quoted), and Souza)
"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance..." ― Tia Sillers and Mark D. Sander, from I hope you Dance performed by Lee Ann Womack
“Dance is the hidden language of the soul” ― Martha Graham (and she should know)
"Gotta dance! Gotta Dance! / Broadway Rhythm, it's got me, everybody dance!" ― from the Broadway Melody number in the Stanley Donen, Gene Kelly film "Singin' In the Rain"
"Some people were born to sit by a river. Some get struck by lightning. Some have an ear for music. Some are artists. Some swim. Some know buttons. Some know Shakespeare. Some are mothers.
Mike's 16th video blog is a tribute to the new year, containing a number of dance performances, plus humorous commentary. Recorded entirely on New Year's Eve with tripods and video cams in two rooms, then later edited, directed, rendered and uploaded to YouTube on New Year's Day. (Albeit at the wrong resolution. The proper video is now online and can be seen below.)
As I await the turning of my sixth decade of life, my energy level, health, and creativity are high. Frankly, it's a wonder I'm not completely tired out (or dead from a heart attack) after making this. But the Mikester is "young, wild and free". For the coming year and for eternity. It took an entire day to cobble down three hours of footage into this 21 minute vid. I know that's an eternity for the internet, but to me it's just a half hour tv show!
I've always been a bit of a ham. In fact, I think I possibly dislocated my left hip, causing both my 1992 hip replacement, and it's 2009 "revision" because I used to end all my dance moves at clubs back in the 70s and 80s by doing the "splitz". (On more than one occasion, other dancers in clubs would circle me, like in the film "Saturday Night Fever", and let me perform for the floor!) I'm all healed up now, and even though I don't dance to Gaga as promised to my blog readers years ago (Dancing Grandpa put the kibosh on those plans, sigh) I do dance to tunes by Nicki Minaj, Ellie Goulding, Benny Goodman and Taio Cruz, among others. My readership base (those that are still around and some new folks I always seem to be picking up as friends and subscribers) is pretty varied. I make an attempt to appeal to the widest audience base. I apologize in advance to anybody who might be offended, especially by the Nicki Minaj song. I tried my best to edit out the offending word but the song "Starship" was a big hit, and sorry to say modern music includes profanity. I believe I utter the word "hell" at some point. This is a New Year's celebration, so I'm drinking alcohol, but not as much as might be assumed. I believe I credited the Glenn Miller band with the swing song "Sing Sing Sing" when in fact it's Benny Goodman and his orchestra.
The vid ends with one of my free weight workouts, set to music. I really should have created this when I was about ten pounds lighter, but it's the holiday season, and I gained a lot of my belly back pretty easily. Now it's time to get back in shape.
I'm posting this without any preconceived notions. (Although I always like to point out that I'm STILL posting the same kinds of creative entries as I always have.) Xanga isn't the site it once was. I'm not as well known as I used to be. I tagged some folks below the vid who, among others, left me some gratifying comments and positive feedback on previous dance vids I've posted on Xanga.
Back in the long ago year of 2007, when Xanga was competing with YouTube as a video platform, I transferred an old 1991 VHS video tape of my performance of some of my dance moves performed to big band swing music from Artie Shaw to my Video section with the video Dancin' Fool March 3, 2007. Among the commenters who gave me positive feedback (who are still on Xanga anyway) was Linda (@an_OM_aly )
I had hip revision surgery in May of 2009. After it healed a bit, I put on my dancing shoes and posted Creative Much Oct. 11,2009. Besides dancing to the old song Iko Iko, originally performed by the Dixie Cups, I double tracked my voice and sang the song for the video. Among my commenters who marveled at my ability to heal so quickly and be able to dance were Maha (@QweenCat ), Jill (@Texasjillcarmel) and Donna (@DonnaLou).
A few years later, after promising to create a dance only video featuring Lady Gaga music, (which I never completed after a YouTube video called "Dancing Grandpa" (noted above) went viral, making any dance to Gaga from me seem like I was copying somebody instead of doing something original,) I posted "Gotta Dance Friday Aug. 6, 2011" set to the music of Elvis Presley. Just some of the outstanding positive comments I got on that one were from Ampbreia (@Ampbreia ), Khai (@opticalnoise ), Alex (@Roadlesstaken ) and Zoe (@soulstar76 ).
EDIT: 1/04/13 7:00 a.m. Well, I sent out a MASS MESSAGE over here, and blanketed the walls of quite a few FB friends. 18 comments. (although one is a reply from me, and at least two people left multiple comments. I guess I'm not good enough for Top Blogs anymore, but I am at #2 on Top Recs. Ellen hasn't called yet. But I'm satisfied. 28 views on YouTube (prolly from here. 4 on Vimeo last night. Not bad for a 20 minute vid. If I get enough love and support, I may even post a (much shorter) Mike's Video Blog (Mike's Vlog?) each and every week. Next up, a twitter feed. And I plan to post more regularly on FB. I explained my plans in this vid, but had to leave that on the cutting room floor, so to speak, too long as it is....MFN/ppf
NOTE: Playboy contributor, writer, and comic artist Jules Fieffer (whom I sort of resemble) wrote a series of comic strips with his "Dancer" character over the years, and I gained inspiration for the title card, which I drew, from his style.
Following are excerpts from my best entries for 2012. I've frequently told people to treat my blog like a glossy magazine. Each entry is like a magazine article. I do a lot of research for the news and cultural entries. I write prose and poetry, and I present videos and photography. No matter what happens in my life, I continue to maintain an optimistic and wholesome viewpoint. Almost everything which appears here is original and comes direct from my creativity to the blog. Included in the sample from the entry, which might not be from the beginning of the post, are links to the original entry and to the archive page from which it came. Since I didn't blog for a couple of months last year, I doubled up on a couple of months to get 12 entries. Even then, a lot more entries I posted last year really SHOULD be here too. In my opinion, most everything I post is top drawer.
Below is a YouTube playlist with some of the current music I've been listening to recently. Below the video screen is the description of the playlist on my YouTube channel. You can select the next video in the sequence by clicking the little "next" button (after play on the taskbar). The list of songs is below the video. The link above takes you to the playlist on YouTube.
I'm an aging boomer who has been collecting pop music since high school. Many people my age refuse to leave the 60s-80s when it comes to music appreciation...Sometimes I miss good ol' rock and roll, but I get pumped up by a lot of "new music" too...Nothing like Mr. Saxobeat to get me ready for work at 5am. I have over 1000 vinyl records dating back to the 60s...I still listen to all kinds of music. and I still love to dance. These are just some of the songs I liked this past year. Let us attempt to share our personal and universal goals together, in the coming year, and in the coming decade, for as long as we exist. MORE
I consider myself an intelligent, sane, meticulous, caring, sober individual. I've lived a long and beautiful life, interspersed with great happiness and terrible tragedy...I like to learn new things, enjoy multitasking, and though I might forget what I'm doing, in time, everything that needs to be done, gets done. I'm creative and energetic. Sometimes I'm so excited about living that I can be quite careless in my actions, caught up in the wonderful manic moment, and I've been told I don't think about the consequences I sometimes cause. At other times, even sometimes at the same time, I'm depressed and angry. Upset and confused, apt to mutter aimlessly to myself, yell at others, and physically bang my head against the wall. I've had "nervous breakdowns" and suffer greatly. Yet I don't think anything is wrong with me. I'm level headed and able to think things through but have a tendency to pile too much on my metaphorical plate, and I'm always letting my emotions control and overcome my common sense. Throughout my life, the seeming inconsistencies in my makeup have been either overlooked or ignored by my family, and I've been able to channel negativity into positivity for the most part. When the well oiled machine that is me begins to break down mentally, however, things can, and have, gotten ugly.
It seems I'm always reading about an abundance of people either diagnosed or claiming to be bipolar. I wonder sometimes if it's become some sort of "badge" people wear.
Mother worried about my state of being all the time. I grew up sheltered and coddled. The manic form of my disease was sometimes a blessing. I learned to read quicker than the other kids. I was a self starter, and I always got good grades. I was outgoing, but didn't mind being alone. I talked a lot, and liked to be the center of attention. But events affected me greater than other kids. "Triggers" would set me off at any time. When I was ill, Mother used to keep me away from other family members, saying I wasn't fit to live with. MORE
Living in Southern California has some wonderful benefits, including temperate weather, rich blue skies, close proximity to both the ocean and the mountains, and a wealth of cultural diversity which makes for excellent restaurant choices...
I'm always apt to proclaim you've gotta take the bad with the good, and sometimes there are drawbacks to living here as well. High taxes, ... California pretty much leads the country when it comes to attempts to control greenhouse gases...Because of the restrictions on fuel refining, our gas prices are a tad higher than the rest of the country...
Whenever there is a "gas crisis" ... prices at the pump can sometimes spell doom for the weekly budget, esp. when one is still living pretty much paycheck to paycheck. You'll find a lot of Priuses on the roads out here...
Last year I was forced to get alternate transportation, when the supposedly "routine" replacement parts on my 11 year old sports car started to drive my overloaded budget over the edge of reason and into uncharted territory...I weighed in with the hybrid owners. I bought my "Mock Evo" (Mitsubishi Lancer ES with manual transmission and 4 cyl. internal combustion 2.0 liter, 148 hp Mivec...engine instead of a hybrid ... because prices are higher for hybrids, and further "down the road" one will need to replace the batteries which allow for the 50 mpg rating.
Even though my new car has a manual transmission, it has cruise control as well, and a few weeks ago, I began using it regularly on my daily commute... MORE
Catalina Island has been a tourist attraction since early in the 20th century. Possibly the most iconic structure in the small town of Avalon is the Casino, built by chewing gum magnate William Wrigley in 1929 as a combination movie theater and ballroom. The word casino always conjures up the idea of gambling, but Wrigley used the original Italian connotation of a gathering place. During World War II when radio was king as far as entertainment was concerned, the Casino was known worldwide for it's big band broadcasts. For my first themed PhotoPost of Catalina Island and the town of Avalon, I'm presenting a series of photos featuring this round engineering marvel... MORE
"You always hear about "credit history" but never much about "credit future". That's because when you owe lots of money, you don't really have much of a future...." Michael F. Nyiri, poet, philosopher, fool
2008: My new "consolidation" debt is draining $750.00 from my bank account each month, and is due a couple of weeks before rent, which keeps rising. Half the rent on the duplex I share with my roommate Joel is $900.00. The owner who bought the property two years previous has made several "improvements" including adding a second bathroom. He tried to get us to move, and even threatened eviction (for Joel's poor housecleaning skills in his part of the house) but I cleaned up prior to the deadline and was able to get a stay of execution...
My finances are still deep in the tunnel of debt, and I can't see any dim lights coming up around the bend...On top of all my problems, Joel's cancer gets far worse during the summer...After his death, which wasn't really "sudden" becaue he's been suffering for over four years, the economy decides to take a nosedive as well...With my roommate gone, I need to make some kind of adjustment before the next rent invoice arrives. Joel's brother cuts me a check for his half of the rent for the next month. (It's a deal we'd discussed, but Joel kept putting off actually writing this "last rent check" for obvious reasons.)
I get a roommate just in time, but he just can't afford $900.00 a month...Right around Christmas (he) announces he'll be moving out. At this point, I'm in the red each and every month, and my Wells Fargo credit card, which is linked to my personal checking account as an overdraft account, is getting a workout every month...I owe about $3500.00. And at almost 18%, I'm not touching the principle AT ALL on my consolidation account. Bank of America has me in a viselike grip. I call them repeatedly, almost like a bad penny returning each month, and each month I'm told the same thing. An unemotional (on their part) NO. MORE
Xanga is about us. Ultimately. Xanga is our legacy if we wish it to be. Xanga becomes us. Our thoughts. Our deeds. Our hopes. Our stories. Our quarrels. Our fears. And our joy when we overcome them. Xanga is our friends and sometimes our frenemies. Xanga is our family. Our progeny. Our pets. Our lowest points and our highest. Xanga is our life. Our sense of humor. Our trials, tribulations, friendship, foibles, and faith.
Xanga is a "place" for most of us. Sometimes we feel at home and we return fondly. Sometimes we feel safe, or empowered, or nurtured. Sometimes we turn away. Sometimes we don't understand something and we stay away for a while. A lot of us are "lifetime members". A great many of us were "around" when Xanga was "THE" website that came to mind when social networking and blogging were mentioned. For some of us, the "internet" and "Xanga" are synonyms. For some, Xanga is a joke and a hasbeen. There are a lot of blogs nobody knows about however. And sometimes those blogs are the "real" backbone of "the blogging community." Xanga is you. Xanga is me.
Xanga is Stacey Knapp.
Name: Stacey Knapp Location: Palm Beach, Florida, United States Birthday: 11/9/1974 Gender: Female Member Since: 3/16/2001 True/Lifetime
Friday, 16 March 2001Stacey Starts a Xanga Blog. Sigh, I guess this is as good a time as any to begin a new weblog. Today at my job of six and a half years, my boss brought me outside and told me that Wednesday will be my last day...
Tuesday, 15 August 2006 Stacey's Pregnant. As of right now, I am seven weeks pregnant. So said the ultrasound on Thursday. But based on my last cycle, I am further along. Which is why I have to go to a Radiologist today to have another ultrasound done to determine dates. I also have a pulmonologist appointment. Pray for us...
Monday, 21 August 2006Stacey's Miscarriage. We've begun to lose the Baby. However, I have complete peace about it. the LORD knows best...
Thursday, 04 December 2008Stacey Shows Off Her Baby Bump. I'm 35 weeks 3 days pregnant and have not posted a single "belly" photo. I gained 90 lbs after my miscarriage in 2006, (which I was planning on losing before I got pregnant but didn't happen) I've only gained 11lbs this pregnancy, but look much bigger...
Wednesday, 18 March 2009Stacey's One Huge Fear. One huge fear I have is that Lydia will have asthma. I have severe asthma. I was diagnosed at 15 months of age, and hospitalized 3 times by the time I started school. I was on medication regularly and had many trips to the emergency room. When I got to high School (I had to be cool) I started smoking. At the age of 18 I was hospitalized my senior year in H.S. The day after Thanksgiving. I was hospitalized again in the spring. This pattern followed for 10 years. At 20, 22, 24, 26, 28 I was hospitalized twice a year, and I had frequent ER visits in between at the very least 3 times a year...
Thursday, 19 January 2012 How Has Xanga Changed or Impacted Your Life? I have forged lifelong friendships with people I have met on Xanga. I am so blessed because of it! In March, I will have been here for 11 years. I think back to 20 years ago and what we now take for granted as the internet was something so furturistic sounding. I am so glad that Xanga has brought me and some close friends together...
Saturday, 17 March 2012Xangaversary Yesterday was my 11 year Xangaversary! I've changed quite a bit since I started blogging!...
Tuesday, 08 May 2012 Stacey Enters Heaven. This is Jody, Stacey's sister. As many of you know, we lost Stacey on Saturday. We know that many of you would not be able to make it to any services, but I just want to let everyone know that services are being held on Friday May 11th.
This blog entry is dedicated to the memory of Stacey Knapp, typical Xanga blogger, and to her daughter Lydia, her husband Fred, and her entire family and group of friends. Tired of the brouhahas du jour I always seem to find on Xanga's "Front Page" and among the"featured" and "recommended" content, last week I found myself traveling the less well known virtual streets and boulevards of Xanga. I've met so many in eight years "here" and still am amazed at all those I have never encountered. I came across Stacey's blog, directed perhaps by the Hand of God. I don't believe I ever visited her when she was alive. There was the news that she had died. Many times when confronted with a "new blog to me", I will make that blog my "project" and I will read it like one would a novel, from beginning to end. Stacey was one of those bloggers who has a long Xanga history, and has pretty much lived the last third of her life in her "pages", I began to read those pages, and immerse myself in that life.
As I read Stacey's blog, I wanted to distill her essence, and share her story. I copy/pasted the links to "benchmark entries" as well as "typical" blog entries. This has been an amazing process. Stacey has reached down from heaven and touched my soul deeply, through her blog. The "Chapter headings" are in some instances mine, and in some instances the titles of the entries from the blog. Sometimes I might have joined passages from either end of an entry, or chosen words from the middle of an entry. Each date is a link to the actual blog entry. Stacey began blogging at the age of 26. A lot of time in Stacey's short life was spent giving her testimonial and bearing witness to her love of Jesus. She has shared her life, her hopes, her legacy. It's all on her blog. Xanga is Stacey. Xanga is you. Xanga is me.
Back when I was a kid, during the 50s and 60s, the Future was bright. It was fast, technologically advanced, socially fulfilling, culturally diverse, self sustaining, and right around the corner. The future was always being predicted. You couldn't pass a magazine rack or watch a television program without seeing images of what the future was going to look like. It was an amazing future, and it was barrelling upon us at atomic speed. I could hardly wait for the future to get here.
...I passed middle age about a decade ago, and I've been wondering what happened to that future they predicted. It never happened...
Rockets blew up. And they were nothing like I knew from science fiction movies. They spread a lot of big hulking waste (not to mention spent rocket fuel) around for long before they actually started to work. And fail... MORE
1.Mankind has always been conflicted about his God. From the earliest days of recorded history, man has been speaking to, crying out for, and praying to an unseen God. There are fruits of God's labors. The entire universe exists because of Him. In whatever form God exists, man has been wondering, and he never failed to create intermediaries and idols, with whom he thought he could finally "converse" with his deity. 2.Three times God has chosen prophets to carry his word to mankind. These prophets actually "received" the "Word of God", and taught that Word to their legions of followers. The first of these, Moses, was a Jew. He led the "Chosen People" to their "Promised Land" from slavery in Egypt. Jerusalem, in what is now called "Israel", is the most sacred place for the race of people known as the Jews. Following Moses' death, the stories he told, and the history he carried, was written by the scribes of the Jewish faith, and are now collected into what is called the Old Testament of the Bible. 3.The second great prophet, to whom God actually spoke, was Yeshua, called Jesus Christ, who grew up in Nazareth, and after being given the Word of God, taught throughout Jerusalem and the Middle East. The Jewish Faith had predicted a Messiah, and the apostles and followers of Jesus began to proclaim that he was indeed this Messiah. Jesus' teachings were not held in great favor by a lot of the Jewish leaders, and his "sect" of Judaism eventually became Christianity. During his life, he was known as a healer and great religious teacher. After his crucifixion by the Romans, the small sect of "Christians" he founded deified him. Through subsequent centuries, his Word, the Word of God, translated usually in the color red in the Gospels of the New Testament of the Bible, was written down, modified, stolen, hidden, and translated into many languages. The sect of Christianity grew exponentially during the final days of the Roman Empire, and when the great Empire fell, the multitude of Roman Gods had already been replaced by the "One True God", the God of Abraham and Moses, whose "Son" was said to be Jesus. 4. Christianity and Judaism both worship God. Judaism branched into many different and differing sects, and so did Christianity. When the Christian religion began to spread across the known world, and most of the peoples of the Western World began to be converted to it's faith, the Jews became a minority religion, but the "old ways" and the original Word of God as spoken to Moses was preserved in the Holy Book of the Jews, The Torah. 5.Centuries passed. While the Christian world suffered during the Dark Ages, when Christian leaders subjugated most of the citizens, and grew rich, a camel trader in the city of Mecca, in what is now known as Saudi Arabia, spent a lot of his free time in the hills and caves above his desert city. This unassuming illiterate arab, Muhammad, was visited by the Angel Gabriel during one of his retreats. Here he was given the Word of God. He was the third human prophet to be visited and spoken to by God himself. The Meccans had numerous religious deities and intermediaries, in the form of idols. Mecca was a stronghold of Middle Eastern religious faith. God revealed himself to Muhammad, through a series of "Revelations". At first the poor camel trader, who was married and led a good life, tried to ignore these revelations, which included warnings and prophecies also revealed to Moses and Jesus. It was almost as if God was repeating himself again because both the original Jewish scrolls, the Old Testament, and the later Christian Gospels, the New Testament, had by the late 6th century, been translated and changed so much to suit the leaders of society, that the original Word of God had been changed... MORE
I can't believe my luck today. I thank Mr. and Mrs. God, the Cosmos, Kismet, The Universal Consciousness. All the planets aligned and I got possibly the best EVER photos of the space shuttle Endeavour flying over Los Angeles for it's last trip "coming home" before stopping forever at the California Science Center installation.
I'd been waiting for the space shuttle Endeavour, strapped to the back of a NASA Boeing 747 "shuttle" to fly low over many southern California landmarks, and I especially took the day off to photograph this most excellent and once in a lifetime event. When I walked out of the house this morning, I got a couple of shots of Endeavour flying overhead. I can't believe how good these came out.
Of course what tribute to L.A. landmarks being flown over by the space shuttle Endeavour would be complete without the Scientology building on Sunset Blvd. I kept looking to see if Tom would peek his head out of one of the windows, but he didn't. Too bad, I could have used the money I'd get from the media for the photo op... MORE
Hi there. It's me. The Memester, er, I mike the Meanster, er, I mean the Mikester. At the top of the dungheap of internet celebrity yet again. Tonight, on the some may say fast fading but I say "I'm a lifer, so eff off never gonna give up" Xanga service, "All Your Memes Belong to Us", I slice and dice my way through that aforementioned internet dungheap to find the most uploaded, downloaded downlow vids, scandals, memes, and muckraking crap I can find. And I find it. So there. And I've got a pretty dirty gutter resistant mind, plus I'm getting old and senile, so I'm just the right type to type Xanga's future destiny into the pages or the internet memology machine, or meh, so here goes. (Did I remember to type the word "meh" somewhere in the above paragraph?)...
...I love em. I want em. I can't get enough of em. (Boy do doy you didi doy yo. Boy do doy yo diddy dooooo!) The original all inclusive internet meme (well, one of them anyway.) I let you know what happened to a lot of internet celebrities HERE in THIS entry (LINK) called Whatever Happened to The Hampster Dancers... MORE
In the early evening hours of December 22nd, 2011, I began a new "tradition" by creating what I call "The Mikivity Scene" in the dining room window of my house. It was only three days before Christmas, and I have never really been one for holiday decorating. In fact, I'm not really one for opening my curtains and letting anyone see the inside of my house, which, as longtime readers of my blog already know, is filled to the brim with movie and cartoon collectibles, a massive entertainment system, multiple filled bookcases. Almost every wall is covered with art, cartoon cels, and my own drawings.
After returning home, I made an attempt to trim the arborvitae in front of my house to make them look like Christmas trees. The pictures in my head were a lot more conical than the reality. You can't really make an older arborvitae any more sculpted than the oval shape God intended for it, before beginning to cut into wood...
Close up of the right window. Betty Boop Santa plate, A 1987 Kris Mutt Target Christmas collectible stuffed dog, Santa hat on Gumby this year, plus Santa Croaker and Nutcracker Guy. Resting above Santa Betty is one of the plaques I got back in Sunday School for reciting the Christmas Story from the book of Matthew in the New Testament... MORE
Stay Tuned! Watch you inboxes. There is more high quality blogging to come in 2013 from WhenWordsCollide! (My long promised "Dance Video" is actually on YouTube, but I'm not going to supply a link, cause I uploaded it at the wrong resolution. It's 20 minutes long, and includes singing, standup comedy, and even a cooking show! (of sorts) )
The world, er, I mean the year, is about to end. (The world was already supposed to end and didn't, again.) Sometimes I like to tell you about my day in pictures. My day went like this.
I'd stayed up pretty late last night filling up quite a few digital bookshelfs with free books on the internet. (Sorry, I lied. I paid $1.99 for Willy Shakespeare's works. I was quite a Shakespeare scholar back in school, and already have two editions of his complete works. I wanted a digital edition as well.) I checked them out on my Kindle carousel when I got up. It was still pretty early, and still pretty cold. I still haven't called the guy from the heating repair company to come over and look at my defective central heating unit, so I bundled up, and began to make some hot tea. Then I walked outside to retrieve my empty trash can from the curb. The sun hadn't yet peeked his head up from the horizon, and the cloud cover was horrendous. However, it's Saturday morning, and I'm itching to get me some photos of the full moon, which was simply glorious yesterday. Of course I was working and couldn't "shoot the moon" that morning. Suddenly the moon, on it's way toward setting into the westward horizon, appeared, lighting the sky. I danced into the house, turned off the flame from under the teakettle, grabbed my coat and heavy shoes, and drove down to Torrance beach. At one of the intersections, I could have grabbed my camera and perhaps gotten a fantastic shot, but I don't like to be rushed, especially in traffic, so I kept on going.
I set up the tripod when I got to Torrance beach. I chatted with a couple of early risers walking along the strand, and waited for the moon to reappear. I love mornings at the beach. One gal who approached me remarked about how cold it has been lately at night. Unlike any other winter in recent memory. Believe it or not, we "usually" have "normal" temperate 60-65° nights, not 40° nights. I told her it is winter after all, and tightened the strings around the hood of my jacket.
The moon hid behind the clouds as she sank below the horizon. Shucks. Oh well. I've got my whole life ahead of me and the ocean is always right outside the door and down the street, so to speak. (One of the guys I talked to this morning walking his dog lived in another mobile home park near to me. It's a small world sometimes. We talked about retirement (his present and my future), utility bills, stubborn moons, and rainclouds.)
Across town, the sun began to rise. Looked like I might be able to get some neat sunrise shots if I could scoot over to some high ground. Got in my car, it's shiny new chrome Moon hubcaps (purchased just two days previous while the real moon was getting full, I love serendipitous events) began to spin. In about ten to fifteen minutes, I was making my way up into the hills of the Skyline Mobile Home Park (I looked to purchase a home there back in 2009 before I bought my home in my present park, but since it's on a hill, Skyline's prices are farther higher in the sky as well.) (I'm amazed sometimes at how well I write. Aren't you?) (Also how many parenthesis I use.)
Rain began to drizzle from the clouds overhead. The air began to warm a bit, but hesitatingly, as if God weren't sure yet what kind of a day He was going to spring on us. Heck, most people were still in bed. Looking around, I could see that it was beginning to become one of those memorable SoCal winter mornings, when the sun and the clouds and the rain all seemed to be battling it out in the cosmic arena before me. (Yep, my car can clearly be seen in the middle of this photo. I just love that car.) We have more Christmas decorations in our mobile park than these guys do. Notice the bauble decorated wreath on the right, however. I deliberately made sure it was in this shot!
I was adjusting the iris on my camera at about the same time God decided to do the same and that's when the rainbow began to appear through the trees.
One side seemed to end far away close to downtown Los Angeles.
The other end disappeared into the hills. Even with my wide angle lens, I wasn't able to get the whole thing in one shot. It isn't every day you see a rainbow. Hope you're enjoying yourselves as much as I did. (These photos are unretouched, by the way. No photoshop fiddling with my rainbows!)
After the rainbow disappeared into the cosmos, I got back in my car. The sun was getting back behind some clouds, and the air switched from warming to colder. Next to the park where I took the photos in my last Photopost (on the left in this photo), the Kaiser Permanente Hospital has a five story parking garage. Here I staked out some more high ground but by now the clouds were pretty thick and the droplets of water were starting to pelt me in earnest.
The sunrise looked neat, but not really special.
No escape from storm clouds the other way either. Here looking north from the other side of the parking structure.
Heck, since nobody was around, I parked my car at a rakish angle in front of what was left of the sunrise and at least was able to take some photos of my own "Moon" hubcaps. If you look closely in the rear windows, you'll see I even have the "Mooneyes" decals like on 1950s custom cars. I'm pretty proud of the way these shiny babies make my car look. Now hopefully someday soon the sun will come back out and I can wash the car too!
I went back home. Almost as soon as I got my car safe under the canopy of the carport, the heaven's opened, and drenched the southland. The rain pounded hard on my metal roof. I felt this was a good time to bundle up in my comfy chair, heat up that cinnamon tea, "Fire" up my Kindle, and do some reading. (The blue tarp is hiding my Mikivity scene which shows through the front windows at night, and hides the lights for when I'm watching my bigscreen. (Or, now, the "little screen" of the Kindle)
After about three or four hours, I'd zipped through about 100 pages (well, they're not really pages on an e-reader, but there is a handy "page" notifier to tell me where in the "real book" my electronic bookmark is being placed.) of the Stephen King novel "11/22/63". It's one of those books you just can't put down. I have to tell ya, after three days with my new Kindle Fire, I'm getting quite good at using it's many features. (Except for the keyboard. I learned to type on an old Underwood, and the digital keyboard on the Kindle, even though it's QWERTY, is too fickle for my fingers. (and I'm almost afraid of the feature which second guesses which word I'm about to type next!) A combination holder/case and bluetooth keyboard is on it's way from the good folks at amazon.com. Then I took a nap. At around 2pm, I awoke. The rain had stopped. Mr. Sun came out from behind the cloud cover, which was dissipating. I drove down to the local 99 cent store, got some marked down Christmas ornaments, came back home, prepared a salad and sandwich, then took my lunch and Kindle outside for a meal and another chapter of King's excellent novel. This one is looking to be as powerful a piece of work as my favorite King novel, "The Stand" of which I have three editions!
As the sun began to set I decided to take another trip to Torrance beach, in hopes that what I like to call "God's Movie" would provide some inspiration, solace, and natural beauty. Of course, I took a few cameras with me!
As the sun sets in the beautifully cloudscaped western sky, I hope you are able to enjoy the majesty of nature's wonder as much as I did.
Rich textures of sky, sun, surf, and sand.
I don't just snap pictures, you know. I want to give viewers of my photographs a sort of sense of the awe I encounter sometimes. When I used to go on photo expeditions with Liz, I would sometimes drop down on the ground, or hang from a tree, or twist myself in some other strange position, camera, in hand, in order to frame exactly what I saw in my eye and in my mind. I took a dozen shots of Jonathon Livingston Seagull here, on what I like to call his "birdwalk". I choose the best for you to see.
This is a composited work of "art" and uses elements from four different photos, including the one above. It's getting late now as I post this rather intricate entry, one of my "productions" which would really be neat to see at the top of top blogs tomorrow morning! (Hint hint, I don't "ask" for recommends, now do I?)
Hmmm. Let's see if I can get the reflection of the sunset in my eyeglasses!
As the sun sinks, the birds always get anxious.
It's hard to get them to "pose" sometimes.
God's Movie is going to end in about 20 minutes.
The birds settle back and watch the "movie".
I shot some of these with a sunset filter, including this one.
Really low in the sky now, the golden disc begins to rim the edges of the clouds in shades of pink.
Some lifeguards stop to admire the show.
The setting sun is framed by a vacant lifeguard station.
Going.
Going.
Still going. A few brave surfers are trying to catch a wave on the right of the photo.
Almost gone. A glowing pink haze rims the horizon.
"Dreaming of the Kiss", a memorial artwork for Sandy Walker. (A Torrance philanthropist.) The little (well, not so) frog dreams of becoming a prince.
Here's a more detailed view of the sculpture shot away from the sunset. Well, my day didn't exactly end with the setting of the sun. I came back home, by way of Best Buy, and got "The Bridge on the River Kwai" in widescreen blu-ray, a David Lean epic I fondly remember from watching on TV in my youth and can hardly wait to see. However, after composing this blog entry, which took about four hours (I took over 400 photos today) even drinking some of my "energy" rum smoothies, I'm getting a bit tired now at nearly 10:30p.m. So my day will probably end pretty soon. I sincerely hope that your day ended as gloriously, and if it didn't then at least you were able to share mine with me here on Xanga. I shall bid you well, and wish you a heartily whole new year. Mine is just around the corner. It's been a wonderful day.
CHRISTMAS: I followed through on my Christmas Celebration on Xanga, either reposting or reimagining archived Christmas posts. I decorated my home, and I'm planning to go even more all out next year. I'm pretty much over my cold, the first I've had in over two years, and one which nearly knocked me off my celebratory mood. We had a great party at work. Got a full paycheck bonus! Also everyone got to take home a 32" LED TV. Since I already have one of those, and hope to upgrade my 3D HDTV sometime this year to an LED or LCD, I'm either going to sell or return the 32 incher back to Costco. Whatever money I'll make back will go toward my new set of hubcaps for my car. I didn't win the 50" LCD TV this year. I didn't win the 7" Kindle Fire HD either. BUT I DID WIN a $100.00 gift certificate for Amazon.com, so I put it toward one of the 32GB Kindle Fire 8.9" HD tablets. It should be arriving today sometime. I'm pretty excited! I spent Christmas alone, but everybody who saw my Christmas 2012 Santa Hat, which I did up a bit differently, seemed to like it, so there was fellowship with humanity, even though they were either workmates or cashiers at the local Food 4 Less or Big Lots. As I like to do with my extra bonus cash each year, I bought some new shoes and some household goods.
FISCAL CLIFF: Either I'm going to have to spend an extra two grand in taxes next year or I'm not. I've got to hand it to John Boehner and the rest of the Republicans who are willing to help me NOT have to pay that two grand, by giving in on at least raising the tax rates for those making over a million a year.
HEALTH: Hopefully sickness both physical and mental will subside a bit. I'm a lot happier now than I have been for the last few months. On the WEALTH front, Christmas time usually affords me some extra cash to help me budget for next year, and I'm completely budgeted, with no red ink as of yet. Only "doctor bill" I "expect" to pay will be my copayment in either Jan. or Feb. for my yearly physical. I'm going to be taking a shopping trip to Big Five Sporting Goods soon to check out the weight sets. Enough of free weights. I'm really going to work on my musculature this year, as I turn the "big sixty".
XANGA & INTERNET: I will always have my Xanga, as long as my "lifetime premium subscription" holds out. However, I plan on using my own website (www.allthingsmike.com) in 2013. Will probably figure out how to either encode a blogspot module on the front page, with comments of course, or else just update as I used to before Xanga. As I age, I really am looking for more readership, instead of less, and I've concentrated on Xanga for so long, even when "on hiatus" frequently during the last two or three years, that instead of "trying too hard" over here, as Liz used to say, I'll just "present" my latest projects on my own site, and RSS to FB, and here, if they'll let me. The Xanga platform has never satisfied me. Webshots, where I had over 8000 of my photos, has gone out of business. I'm slowly but surely putting new photo folders on my Flickr stream, but I don't like the platform there either. I'll check out the "apps" available on my Kindle this afternoon too. Interesting that I'm "old school internet". Perhaps I'll just take everything OFFLINE and turn my memoirs into an actual book! Who knows? I'm young, and wild, and free. Anything is possible. Upcoming Xanga entries will include my first "Best of the Year" post in two years, and the "Cloudscaping Too" video.
I'm getting new subscribers on my YouTube channel. And I haven't posted anything there in over a year either. Hopefully, I'll have my latest MikeVideo Internet movie posted there before the end of the year. I need an HD videocam (or a good DSLR with full HD capability) but these things have to be budgeted, and they aren't on the immediate budget.
GUNS: Let's stop people from being able to purchase semi automatic weapons, eh? That's a start, at least.
HAPPY NEW YEAR: To the few but excellentely loyal Xangans who still "read me like a book" when I add a page or two to my over a decade old "online universe".
I've spent the last three days pretty much sick in bed. I caught a pretty bad cold the day before our company Christmas party on the 21st. The storms started to come in about that time too, and the days, and my body, have been pretty yucky since. This morning I awoke feeling a lot better, and by noon the storms had pretty much passed. It was such a lovely beginning to Christmas Eve here in SoCal , and I needed to escape the house, so I grabbed my ever present camera, and drove simply a half mile or so south to the Ken Malloy Harbor Regional Park. This is the same park where that alligator got lost a few years ago, and is one of the subjects of my very first Mike's Video Blog: Pacifc Coast Highway. back in 2006.
This was shot yesterday afternoon while I was driving to the pharmacy to get my second round of cold medicine. Each of the nights we've been hit with storm clouds. At least the nights weren't as cold as last week. The next day the storm departs, leaving clouds in their wake. The clouds quickly dissipate, and can soon be only seen around the horizon line. We're looking south at about 2:30 p.m.
Taken during my walk around the mobile home park yesterday afternoon.
The sun is on it's way down, and can almost be seen peeking through the cloud cover in the middle of the picture.
There's more clouds than sky in these shots taken yesterday evening. I tell myself I'm going to create "Cloudscaping Too" soon, another MikeVideo Internet Movie, and I'm compiling more cloudscape shots when I can get them. Being sick didn't make me feel too good. But it does feel good that I can step outside my house, and/or take my camera along with me on my daily walk to get good photos.
Almost sunset. December 23rd, 2012. If the world would have ended then I wouldn't be able to take such wonderful shots, now would I?
That's the moon at the top of the photo above the white house in the back.
Rained again last night, and this morning, but I was feeling a bit better. In fact, I took my walk in a slicker and rubbers this morning. But by 1p.m. this is what the sky looked like.
I climbed up on the roof of my garden shed, and took this right before I almost fell off. Then it hit me. Not a flying tree branch or anything like that. A thought that I haven't posted a Photopost in a while, and it seemed a perfect afternoon for taking a short photo expedition down to the Ken Malloy Harbor Regional Park.
I said short. Only about a half mile, Lake Machado provides palm trees, fall colors (we get those a little late out here) and lots of ducks and geese. Also an oil refinery in the distance, just to make us realize where we really are!
I really don't need to provide any really detailed captions to these. So settle back, enjoy the scenery. I just did!
We could be anywhere. The sounds of traffic disappear. Nature starts to reclaim her majesty
Serene and peaceful, the lake's denizens prepare for their Christmas too. A widescreen version of this photo is my new computer desktop background.
These guys know their goose isn't cooked this Christmas. (While taking video, three anxious geese almost honked my off the path. They seemed like they wanted to catch and cook me! Not these guys however. They're practicing for the Olympic sport of Synchronized Path Crossing.
I wanted to scale that platform on the right, but couldn't find a way to get up to the raised walkway.
Looking south of the lake across the parkland. I didn't wander far off the path. I've been hiking on mud before right after a rain, and didn't want to spend a lot of time cleaning my shoes.
It's around 1:30p.m. Every time I photograph palm trees I remember one photopost I presented years ago where a fellow Xangan remarked they'd never seen a palm tree in real life. Wow!
Okay, one of the shots taken in the mobile park above had my signature barbed wire fence. Here's the chain link one for good measure.
My car, framed by some trees, as I walk back up to the parking lot after my walk in the park, down by ol' Lake Machado.
My ElectricPoetry Website was created in 1999 to showcase my poetry. Chronologically arranged by decade, year, and date, I pretty much stopped adding pages in 2010, instead adding a link to my the ElectricPoetry tag on my Xanga blog. Since it's the end of the year, I'm collecting all the poetry I've written this year in one place, in this entry.
In 2012 I wrote 7 poems. As the year dawned, I proclaimed it would be my best so far. However, I've suffered possibly more depression and less positive energy this year, particularly during the terrible times which have wracked the world and my psyche. I'm facing 2013 in a more positive place. I'm still (hopelessly, and forever) single. Just last night I shed tears again, asking the Universe why I have never seemed to gain comradeship with my fellow man, and find a partner. In 2011, I actively searched, and I socialized, but the group in which I eventually found myself was too full of younger folks who possibly used me (and my place) as a haven from their own lives with parents or strict housemates instead of offering me companionship and solace. The last friend I made in our mobile home park passed away two months ago. Two friends from the past also passed into the Universal Consciousness during this year. The carnage which (still) wracks the world upsets me and bothers me greatly. As the Christmas season occurs, I'm more apt to remember that on the 26th it's the 8th anniversary of a tidal wave that wiped out over 3000 people in Thailand. Still I plan to remain optimistic that both humankind and my own life will prosper and I will hopefully write more hopeful poetry next year. Michael F. Nyiri, the Electric Poet
"Circular Psychosis: Lackluster in Loneliness" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 03/23/12 5:11 p.m pdt
When will companionship come? Why does love leave me alone? What ancient allure must these brittle bones bear? If affairs of the heart still exist I want some.
How often must questions present? Is pure past all I'll ever remember? My "girl in dreams" disappeared and dire straights Replaced my climbing hopes with descent.
I remain folly's fool with a smile. Age, wisdom and health hardly matter If when I ask questions I just talk to myself My life matters no whit all the while.
The tears dried dire decades ago Past friends reside six feet below How often must questions present the dire straights While cold doubt replaces warm blood flow.
I scream with no meanings again. Why does love leave me alone? I'll proclaim I am happy, hale, hearty and how If affairs of the heart still exist through the pain.
The words drop disgusted, deluded, At the feet of the foolish in time What ancient allure could this hole in my heart Be decided, denuded, alluded?
I walk out of the room railing at nothing in particular, As the myriad masses attempt to console me, Then, nodding affirmation, and bravely attempting a smile, I turn my back again, wipe the dry tears from my face, And face the night, Knowing at least, That a new day awaits tomorrow.
I'll straighten my back Happy tunes I will hum, But tell me, Oh Lord When will companionship come?
"Schizm" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 03/23/12 5:40 p.m. pdt
Out of time Out of mind Overcoming obstacles Leaving memory behind Writing the same words Believing insane words Obliterating Obfuscation For the station master Writing Wrangling Forever forgetting fealty Are the ramifications Ready for the last supper? And have I had my fill of fulfillment? Did enlightened souls search for sanity while the cities burned and the butter churned and the words whirled down the drain of disgusting drivel I'm not done yet I've only begun to fight flatulent foolishness forever The clock stopped And I took a minute to think about what I'd been doing. Wait a minute Those sixty seconds of serenity Slay dragons of dialogue with the denizens of dilapidation
"Around and Around Again" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 5:48 p.m. pdt
Life was never simple, and simple pleasures never defined my life Making friends was easy, but easy friendships never really mattered. Driving fast on the highway of circumstance Allowing dirty windows to cloud reason, And without a map to any destination Used to bely bragging rights to oblivion.
Now, as age creaks it's wrinkled head, smiling, cackling, bellowing in glee, The reasons pale beside the journey Reason was never simply pleasurable Pleasure never reasoned with lucid lagresse.
Existence matters, as long as matter exists. Words still get in the way of the meanings, And meaningless mutterings hardly matter at all. Life was never a simple journey, The roadsigns got muddy and fell off their signposts I'm still driving fast And I'm still embellishing the journey, Even as the road gets longer and more perilous And the roadmap flys out the window of willing wonder
Turn right at righteousness Or perhaps left in libidinous licentiousness Or maybe even stop for a moment And admire the circumstances which have put me here again
And again.
"Assessment Again" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri May 13th, 2012, 1:18 p.m. pdt (begin) May 14th, 2012, 6:42 a.m. pdt (conclude)
The longer we inhabit our world The more hours, days, years clocked into our personal odometer The shorter our attention span The leaner our understanding The more we make attempts to catch up The horizon just keeps receding in the distance
Memories so ancient Purpose so isolated Advice and lessons remorph into questions and mistakes As years creep unheeded into calendar existence Wisdom shines her lamp on the balding head of melancholy And laughs because we're forgetting what advice wisdom brings and only ask questions in return
We don't want to make any more stupid mistakes Life wasn't going to be easy, we knew that But at least something was supposed to get easier, Wasn't it?
Moreso the questions disappear yet remain, like an overused metaphor Elegaic diatribes, intelligent assessments Simply txt on the touchscreen of life I wish I could remember when I became disposable Culturally inadequate Unable to communicate Choked to perfection by a world I didn't create and hardly understood
Did the inhabitants change? Or just multiply till they ceased to make sense? Did memory stay intact? Or did it slightly slip into shallower waters now evaporating
No wonder wisdom maintains that at some point It's easier to close one's eyes and accept the inevitable I've been pondering the end since the beginning Typing the same thoughts into eternity And reading those same thoughts written by the scribes of lost memories past penned as they too approached the assessments of purposeless ponderings
The cycle certainly ceases in serentity And on the other side of the door we'll perceive our perfection As I will terminally write, and as those before me wrote so long ago When their infinities stretched father than the horizon and before the sun sank forever into metaphor's ocean
"A Dark Night is Slowly Rising" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 7/20/12 6:24am pdt
Awaking to the morning After a night of clear, bright dreams We never know what to expect anymore As Father Sun rises around the world
Terrible news instantaneously presented As soon as we tap our touchscreens alight Connected calamity indented Terror happens right here in plain sight
Can a day ever pass without strife? Can a night soothe in safe slumber again? Or did days and nights always bear burdens Of bad news, bad taste, evil sin?
Something is dreadfully wrong Something so powerfullly strong A strong wind is blowing And no one is knowing The terror is lasting how long
Controls and restraints not the answer The righteous will pray to the sky But the evil ingrained in our nature Causes us to ask the eternal why
I shudder for humanity again To the Universal Consciousness I pray The day's just beginning for this simple soul But it's a mystery and common sense may stray
If we awake, we are safe so it seems, We breathe, perhaps a sigh, As we cry, and others die Terror lurks in both shadows and light And it hurts as it screams, As calamity sets in it's sight
The evil in our nature turns the common insane The quiet kids and the bullied The intelligent and the sullied Has it always been like this? Perhaps it has. Instant news cycles compound terror's message, And that message is loud and clear. What do we as a society do here?
And are we a society, Or a bunch of conflicted souls without direction Or somebody to listen to our problems?
Evil begins as misdirection, misapprehension Mistakes of mammoth proportions And grief stricken collateral residue
Once the trigger is pulled Once the mind sheds all common sense Once the other voices start to babble All is lost for those involved (And oftentimes the victims are innocent)
The smoke clears As it always does And we open the door and begin the day And as always for humanity I pray
"Softening the Edges" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 8:15p.m. pdt August 15, 2012
on edge again
powerful prickly
never know why and it hurts
precise painful perilous brittle cutting seething agony searing the temples pricking purveyors of the impossible ripping serenity from the hinges of my sanity
why do I feel this way why ? what is wrong today ? it's hot yes it's stifling
but I have an air conditioned soul, don't I ?
I'm the electric poet aren't I ? rescuing wisps of emotion from the abyss no.....don't talk to me don't bother me my soul SCREAMS... get out of my way damn it hurts so much
but then,
too slowly to be sudden a cloud, and then another appear on the horizon of possibility questions fade with father Sol as He slowly disappears beneath the line of trees rimming my painful brain
and I relax
finally awestruck with the passing of circumstance aware and awake and alive again
the questions become answers
if
only
for a moment
I don't care about past prickly painful power I only care about impending solace as the crescent of the baby moon appears and Mother Earth begins her rest for the night under a blanket of pink pulcrhitude
goodnight my demons
hopefully I shall not meet you on the morrow and the pink will soothe sensing sure and serenity will prevail again as she is and as she has during my yesterdays
and tonight
in the pink
"Deadly Family Matters" Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 10/26/12 7:45 a.m. pdt
Human life so precious Every person special and sublime Whether by love or accident, families grow.
Hopefully love replaces accidental circumstance and in time both love and the family grow fuller If not always together, at least together in spirit and celebration. Anger, allegiance, arduous times Togetherness, happy times and smiles
People matter Family matters Although The matters of some families give us pause We are shocked and saddened surely sickened by sanquine reports of shootings and slicings and shallow graves
A grave report of the state of humanity when family matters don't seem to matter to some And the heinous harrowing hollow horrible misgivings of seemingly normal people cause pain to all when they turn on their families or on the families of others
We are all alone And yet we are all family For those who anger too quickly For those in so much pain the only solution seems to reign pain on others; For those about to claim that nothing really matters please take pause before taking matters into your shaking hands.
Family matters to me to you to all
12/12/12 (a poem for all of humankind a week before (yet another) reported apocalypse) Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 12/12/12 6:30am pst
if the world were to end i sure wouldn't and neither would you or would you you may believe in rapture, enlightenment or you didn't you may think that nothing you hear is really true
you may have your questions and yearnings you may have regrets and recourse but as you have lived you've been learning no cosmic occurrence bends personal force
the universe is bigger than the both of us we have faith cause we weren't meant to understand we while away our hours with depression or bliss we either shake our fist or extend a waiting hand
the earth is just a ball of geology think of it as home away from home it'll stick around, it will be us who depart but the universal mindset maintains cosmic energy to roam
If this spinning orb were to stop spinning If the gravity of this situation were to suddenly disappear If all of humanity fell off of the earth what a really strange end to such a wonderful year i began proclaiming this year to be the best one still i'm in debt but it's shrinking i'm getting older but who isn't? i'm grateful and alive i'm thinking
i'm celebrating both the past and all possible futures the solstice always brings warmth through the cold my hand is forever extended to humanity as the endless story is never completely told
the mayans stopped engraving their calendar i'm thinking simply cause they ran out of stone a solstice is a good place they were winking as they put away their tools and went home
i'm home here on my planet this morning and who knows i may be buried some time tonight as the planets align, and we count nonexistent time we are universally together in our seeming plight
and as the sun sets wherever
i bid you goodnight
(the new sun will rise tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and if the universe is willing so will i and so will we all, except of course those of us who won't)
This entry was originally posted as part of my Christmas Celebration in 2007. I'd meticulously created all the composites after performing internet searches for the toys I remember from my childhood. The images were used in a slideshow feature, but the slideshow company went out of business, and the images disappeared from my blog. I recently found them on my computer, and am reposting this which took a long time to create back in 07. Hope you enjoy my recollections, and if you're old enough, might see some toys you played with in the long ago. (Note: The essay doesn't necessarily line up with the images, which, as I just said, were in a slideshow feature.) MFN/ppf 12/18/12
My siblings and I have always been imaginative and creative. We inherited my mother's creative gene, and our playtime was varied and elaborate. I think possibly because my mother might have been trying to make up for the fact that she hardly ever let us out of our own yard, because it was unsafe to "play in the street", she and my dad frequently bought us toys, games, and sporting goods. We did not lack for playthings, and these playthings embellished our imagination, spurred our storytelling acumen, and helped to cement us as a family which played together.
We had our quarrels, and sometimes mother had to show us the "spanking stick" when we got a bit too boisterous, but for the most part, all three of us were able to develop complete worlds of play, with continuing chapters, favorite characters, and involving plots, which had, from playtime to playtime, intrigue, adventure, and a bit of soap opera. Instead of playing like we were in a war movie, we would "construct" a war movie, with sets, actors playing parts, and a definite plot with an ending. Perhaps we didn't exactly know the ending when beginning play, but by the time playtime was over, one scenario would be ready to "pack up", and the next playtime might bring something completely different.
I've never had kids. I did spend three years with a girlfriend who had two children, ages 12 and 14 at the beginning of our relationship. The girl was a preteen, and she liked her CDs and walkman, and was developing friendships with schoolmates in the 'hood, something my mother wouldn't let us do even at 14. The boy was into videogames and videotaped movies. He could watch the same Disney movie endlessly, on tape, and he always had his gameboy in hand. Neither of Pat's kids "played". Possibly because they had to age rather quickly being the son and daughter of a woman who was more "roommate" than mother. Their interests were very passive, TV (They had their first experience with cable when I moved in and activated my subscription.) music, and videogames.
Growing up we had a TV but we didn't get a record player, until I was in the latter half of high school. While Pat's kids could basically be found sitting in front of the television set from right after school until bedtime, including mealtime, my siblings and I would spend whole evenings participating in playtime of some sort or another. After my dad bought our house, in 1960, he made us each a wooden toy chest in his shop, and each chest was about 4 x 3 x 3. I remember regular trips to "Toytown" where Dad would give us a certain spending limit for being good all week, and I would get things like bags of plastic cars or dinosaurs. Each toy was given it's own "place" for storage. There was "the block box" and the "little men drawer." No matter how many toys we "needed' for playtime, at the end of play, everything was piled "neatly" back into it's particular receptacle.
The most imaginative toys were the simplest. Blocks. We had alphabet blocks and those shiny brightly colored wooden blocks in different shapes, but since my father was a woodworker, he made us thousands of blocks from pieces of pine lumber. He would cut them in different shapes, and then sand them so that they were smooth. We would construct Egyptian pyramids, modern cities, and movie backlots with our blocks. Building toys were always special to me.
My dad constructed an electric train layout with tunnel and bridge for me on two pieces of 4 x 8 plywood before we moved from our rented house in the late 50s. At the time I didn't realize Dad had given me the train set. It was a gift from "Santa Claus" and miraculously appeared in the living room by the tree on Christmas morning.
By the mid fifties, Tinkertoys, American Plastic Bricks, and Lincoln Logs joined the toys in our rooms. Tinkertoys were good for everything from making vehicles and structures, to making "people". A "blue stick" in a "spool" was a young boy. A girl had a piece of string (for a pony tale, like my sister) inserted into the slot at the top of the stick. She wore one of those cylindrical tinkertoys with the hole in the middle for a "dress". "Red sticks' were teenagers, and "green sticks" were adults. They lived in houses made with our blocks constructed from blueprints in housing brochures.
Paper bags were "puppets", and I had about 250 or 300 separate "people" in the 5 or 6 years I was making them. My brother and sister similarly had whole populations of puppets made from #6 small grocery bags. We used crayons to color their faces and bodies. They were even easy to store, as they folded flat. My brother and I imagined "planets" where our toys lived. His was "Cowboytown", and mine, "Cartown". We also had a "movie studio" for producing "movies" which came in handy when we were limited to only one and a half hours of play.
Favorite "toys" were the kind we made ourselves. I had a "TV" made out of a shoebox with slots in the sides where I could slide the "film" which consisted of "frames" like a comic book. One playtime "adventure" I remember well was "lava". The contents of the dirty clothes hamper would become steaming lava which was forever bearing down on our GI Joe action figures and Tammy dolls.
Until we grew too old to believe in Santa, he "brought" one "special" toy, usually the largest, the night before Christmas. We children had to stay in our beds, or else Santa might not "come" to set up the toys. Dad and Mom would literally spend the complete night arranging the three setpiece toys for our "surprise" on Christmas morning. Each of us received about 10-15 toys of varying size and cost. Usually half of these broke within a week of Christmas.
Christmas always held an abundance of surprises, and besides the toys which seemed to be engineered to break immediately upon playing with them for the first time, like my GI Joe Helicopter, we did keep most of our toys, and so our "collection" just kept getting larger and larger.
Sis had those tin doll houses, and then one Christmas got a plastic "Dream House" furnished in the best 60s modern style. Both my sister, brother and I constructed whole cities and towns out of construction paper cutouts.
Looking back on our play, it seems no wonder that we liked to "build things". My dad was in the process of adding a bedroom and bathroom on the newly purchased house. Building was in our blood.
My brother and I both collected and traded cards. Playtime at school recesses usually involved sports or trading. I still collect trading cards from time to time. In the 80s I had two complete Garbage Pail Kids card sets because they reminded me of gruesome monster stickers I traded as a kid.
My brother and I loved playsets, and these were the toys "Santa" usually brought. Sister had "The Flintstones". Brother had a medeival castle and a western town, and I had Cape Canaveral and Moon Base Alpha. You can't buy something like the Cape Canaveral setup these days. The spring loaded "rockets" had enough power to take out one of your eyes.
My favorite playset was "The Blue and The Gray", a Civil War playset with so may soldiers, building, bridges, horses, and ammunition, that I got tired after I spent two hours setting it all up.
As a preteen, I graduated from building blocks to model kits. Starting with military vehicles and planes, I immersed myself into model building, and I got "into" building customized cars, by combining pieces in different kits.
In my slideshow above I show a photo of my first auto kit, a Duesenberg, and also the "Big Deuce" a 1/8 scale model '32 Ford which had windows which cranked open and closed and working headlights.
My taste in "toys" changed in my junior year in high school, when I was able to drive my best "toy" to school, a 1965 Dodge Dart I nicknamed "The Fantastic." I've "collected" some vintage cars since then, and I always think of them as my "toys". In the late 80s, I rode a motorcycle.
Since I never married, I have continued to buy "toys". The latest "toys" are electronic in nature. My love of music began by listening to radio, since we didn't have a record player, but as soon as the family started to spin platters, I began buying albums weekly, and this has grown into collecting media of all kinds, including movies on five different formats, three or which are obsolete.
The most recent "toys" are my computers. I could even say I have a "collection" of not only the hardware, but all the software as well. I was an "early adopter" and as the technology quickly changed, I wanted to keep upgrading. Now, thanks to my latest "toy", I have enjoyed an avalance of personal creative energy and production unmatched since my youth.
Everyone has their own toys, and their own way of playing. A lot of social interaction is built on our experiences at playtime. Much of our imagination and creativity first receive inspiration during playtime. And probably, we all remember our toys throughout the decades, and playing with our toys helped us to begin acting and reacting to the pitfalls and foibles of life in the "real world"
In the early evening hours of December 22nd, 2011, I began a new "tradition" by creating what I call "The Mikivity Scene" in the dining room window of my house. It was only three days before Christmas, and I have never really been one for holiday decorating. In fact, I'm not really one for opening my curtains and letting anyone see the inside of my house, which, as longtime readers of my blog already know, is filled to the brim with movie and cartoon collectibles, a massive entertainment system, multiple filled bookcases. Almost every wall is covered with art, cartoon cels, and my own drawings.
That afternoon, stuffed and happy after our annual Christmas lunch and party at work, and helping in the cleanup since I'd drank a couple of beers and wanted to "sober up" before driving my month old new car home, I noticed one of the small lighted Christmas trees used as a table centerpiece had a broken base. Our controller told me I could take it home with me (along with a partial six pack of Corona). I figured I could fix the base and set the tree on my own dining room table. Some of the folks in the large mobile home park in which I live really go all out during the holidays. As I take my daily power walks around the park, I'm quite delighted and filled with the spirit when passing by the lavish decorated homes. We don't have real snow and icicles, but we have lots of Christmas lights. I propped up a cardboard Gumby and set some of my own collectibles around the tree, including Betty Boop, "Santa Croaker" and Nutcracker Guy.
For my second incarnation of the "Mikivity" (a play on the word "nativity" although most of my decorating (so far) is of a secular nature) I planned ahead, and added a second window display, or tableau, containing my collectible figurines and dolls. I posted some photos in my previous entry showing last weekend's progress.
The ISO settings on my old Olympus digital aren't fine enough for me to shoot glorious nighttime shots, so I snapped this in the early morning hours at dawn. I looked around for some inexpensive light sets last weekend, and the Target store by my workplace was already pretty much sold out of light sets. On Friday, I scoured the Big Lots and local Target, and there was an even more meager selection. Yesterday (Sat.) morning, I ventured over to the Home Depot (I usually have a rule of not going shopping AT ALL during the three weeks before Christmas. You can't get a parking space, people are sometimes quite rude, the checkstand lines are always too long, and I feel "rushed". ) At 8am a lot of folks aren't up yet, so I looked around for decorations, specifically larger light sets, and couldn't find too much. What was available was already being marked down. I bought some small LED light strings. (they're QUITE bright).
After returning home, I made an attempt to trim the arborvitae in front of my house to make them look like Christmas trees. The pictures in my head were a lot more conical than the reality. You can't really make an older arborvitae any more sculpted than the oval shape God intended for it, before beginning to cut into wood. A late afternoon trip to Big Lots and the 99C Store got me some really inexpensive ornaments. With the lights and ornaments, I was only able to decorate two of the four shrubs. (I hope to get more "big balls" after Christmas for less than a buck each if the 99C Store still has any on clearance for next year.)
Only one rail has garland and a light string. Our controller gave me two more of the Christmas tree centerpieces. I don't have enough electrical cord, but with materials I have at hand, I think I've got at least some of the effect I wanted. I'm pleased with the overall result, and I'm already planning 2013's Mikivity Scene. I don't go in for the same lighted white branch deers, santa hatted penguins and geese, and inflatable Santas and snowmen as everyone else. I like to be a bit different. I haven't noticed anyone else hanging candy canes from their shrubbery! All four arborvitae will be ornamented next year, and I hope to have a porch instead of a wheelchair ramp.
Close up of the right window. Betty Boop Santa plate, A 1987 Kris Mutt Target Christmas collectible stuffed dog, Santa hat on Gumby this year, plus Santa Croaker and Nutcracker Guy. Resting above Santa Betty is one of the plaques I got back in Sunday School for reciting the Christmas Story from the book of Matthew in the New Testament.
Close up of left window. King Nutcracker Guy is new. Betty figurines. My "Ted" bear is on the left although you can't really see him through the screen. Another Santa hatted Gumby. Micky Mouse is in there and so are the Bailey's cups. Dream catchers hang to the left of both displays.
Here you can see Ted but not King Nutcracker Guy. The "Lenny Um Bug" from 1999 is resting on my limited edition 70th Anniversary Wizard of Oz Blu-ray. I hung the blue tarp behind the display so I don't see the lights when watching my entertainment, and nobody can see me either. I think I have a green tarp, and I'll hang that one next year, and possibly decorate it somehow. My place is in one of the back corners of the park, so there's not a lot of traffic on my street, but the gal across from me really decorates here home every year, and I thought I'd give her a wee bit of "competition." Three of my neighbors have complimented me on my Mikivity.
Now for something completely different. Here I'm flexing my new muscles. Sorry about the stained tee shirt. Just what I happened to be wearing around the house. (If it weren't so cold, I'd probably be naked. My sometimes clothes free lifestyle is yet another reason why I usually keep the shades drawn. ) This is a preview of my upcoming "Mike's ultimate body image post". Everyone I talk to in the park tells me I look incredibly healthy these days. Still have a bit of the spare tire to deflate, however. (And you heard it here first. In May, for the "Big Sixty", I think I might get inked somewhere. (not a dragon on the bald pate, either)
After snapping photos of the Mikivity, I got this of the sunrise. It's behind a cloud, but at least it's not raining (right now.) I hope to make some time to do some visiting later today. I was almost thrown into depression again Friday afternoon, but decorating has brought a bit of the spirit back to my psyche.
Mike's Christmas Story. A personal journey through my reminiscences of the holiday season: Reposted from 2005, 2006, and 2007 and 2009. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you probably already have read this series of short "Christmas Memories". I'm posting it again as part of my Christmas Celebration. It's a "holiday tradition", and I'm surprised I didn't post it in 2010 or 2011.
The Snowman I remember the snowman pretty well. For the first four Christmases of my life, my family lived in Nampa, and then Caldwell, Idaho, where it snows during the winter. When one has as an overactive imagination and a fairly lucid memory, sometimes experiences from the past can take on added embellishments as the years pass, and I remember the snowman had coal lumps for eyes, a big stovepipe hat, and a carrot for a nose. This might not be the actual snowman as it was in reality, but "memory's snowman", diffused through many viewings of "Meet Me in St. Louis" and looking at Christmas cards over the years. I am pretty sure there was a snowman, and I can clearly remember the subtle sound of sleighbells in the snow, accompanying my earliest of Christmasses in Idaho.
At five we moved to California, and while there is snow in California during the winter, it is over 5000 feet up in the mountains, and we moved to Los Angeles, in a valley that begins at the base of the foothills and extends to the sea. By the time the Spirit of Christmas really unleashed itself on my siblings and I, the snowman was only a dim memory. The crisp cold crackle of snow under my small boots and those sleighbells faded from the picture on the front of the Christmas Card of my life, replaced with cotton facsimiles lining the shelves and tales of how Santa Claus visits homes without chimneys.
Santa Claus I believed, as did my sister and brother, in the idea of Santa Claus, a jolly fat man in red who brings toys and goodies to well behaved children on Christmas. The first Christmas I really remember would have been about 1959, when I was merely six. This was the year I got an electric train set from "Santa". In our childhood, my parents, strict as they were, never letting us leave the yard, and watching over us almost like guards at a prison, did instill in us a sense of Christmas Spirit from the very beginnings of our lives. I might have a clearer picture that what Mother was really instilling was another lesson on how to "be good". Like the ever present "belt" that my Father only had to unbuckle in order to insure we were well behaved, the threat of Santa bypassing the house, or worse yet, setting out toys for two of us but not the other, helped to force us into obedience, and Santa always came on schedule, and that early Christmas in 1959, the full size American Flyer train set that wound itself around the base of our real Christmas tree, speeding through homemade tunnels and shunting across bridges fashioned out of popsicle sticks, past trees with green painted foam leaves, gave me one of my earliest "real" Christmas memories, the kind that helps to reinforce the good tidings of the season.
We always received lots of gifts at Christmas, neatly wrapped by my obsesssive compulsive mother, and piled not in disarray, but in a tidy artistic mountain under the tree. These gifts sat under the tree from the first week of December through the 25th, each week a few more would magically "show up". We would carefully remove them from their space, shake them a little, admire the wrapping and the ribbons, and then replace them. But the major "gift" each of us three kids received did not arrive until Christmas morning, set up completely, like my electric train set, and the pram with twin baby girls my sister received, or the cowboy hat and gun set my brother saw laid out on the chair next to the overstuffed sofa. These were the gifts that Santa Claus brought us. These were our "special" gifts. We wrote Santa a letter, and gave them to my Mother, who "mailed them" about three weeks before the holiday. Santa brought them the night before Christmas, and we always marvelled at how he must be able to make the time to visit all the little kids in the world and do the fine job of surprising all the youth of the world like he did at our house.
The Nativity Santa brought us gifts because we were good children. But we never forgot the "real" reason behind why we celebrated Christmas. We learned this in Sunday School and Church during the Holiday, and from the movies that we were shown in elementary school in the cafeteria in the weeks before we were let out for Christmas vacation. At school, films like "A Christmas Carol", and "Silent Night" were shown repeatedly. In Sunday School, we memorized the Christmas Story, from the book of Matthew in the Gospels, and were awarded plaques when the recitation was perfect. I still have my plaques from these experiences, gained by "fishing" each one out of a fishing bowl following the performance. We always had a Christmas Program at school, attended by all the parents, with each class either reciting Christmas stories, or singing carols. The idea that the Holiday was really the celebration of the birth of the Christ Child never left our minds. We believed in the twin secular and religious ideas of the Holiday together, and the ideals and wonder of the Holiday were instilled in us from an early age.
The Christmas Tree In 1965, my father brought home our first "artificial Christmas tree." My wonder at the holiday season started to deteriorate that Christmas, when I was in the fifth grade. Although Mother would string popcorn, and we had lots of antique decorations and ornaments, which looked fantastic on a real tree, enhanced by the smell of the evergreen branches, the "fake" tree, which came out of a box, and was a blinding silver "color" looked less like a "tree" and more like an oversized automotive ornament to me. The house was always decorated to the hilt. My mother was involved in Craft of the Month clubs as long as I can remember, and we always had lots of Christmas decorations. We didn't hang lights outside. In the 60s, there were some folks who decorated the outside of their homes, but it was nothing like I see today. Our home was decorated for us, not for people driving by the house. Our ugly silver tree, however, never ceased to depress me. We had that tree up until we celebrated our last Christmas in 1971. It always serves as the Anamoly of the Season for me. When Dad unboxed that tree for the first of many times the Christmas of 1965 I began to see the "commercialization" of Christmas firsthand.
Rain on the Roof "It never rains in California", as a rule, and the first rain in December was my clue that Christmas was around the corner. Listening to the rain on the roof, seeing the splash of raindrops in the puddles in the driveway, the sudden feeling that the air was getting colder at night. There was always a definite "feel" of Christmas. Those years that it didn't rain during December, which were rare enough to be almost nonexistant, were years that Christmas didn't "seem" right. I like to meditate sometimes, using my memory as a tool, and memories of looking at the blinking lights on the tree, reflected in the shiny foil packages beneath it, with the lights of the house all turned off, at night, with the sound of the rain coming down outside, is still a meditation memory I use often. It made me feel good, like life was just beginning, full of promise and wonder, and good times would always visit me during the Holiday season.
Santa's Legacy We stopped believing in Santa Claus possibly later than a lot of our peers. Dad spent the night before Christmas morning wide awake, fueled with coffee, assembling Santa's Gifts. Some of these gifts still shine through memory's thrall. Both my brother and I loved what we called "set ups". The local toy store would display these on sheets of 4x8 plyboard, angled at 45 degrees, out from the walls of the store. There were setups of western towns, WWII battle grounds, 1930s gangland Chicago (The Untouchables was a popular television show), and castles with knights in shining armor, complete with drawbridges and trebuchets.
My favorite "set up gifts", which "Santa" would display on the living room floor, were "Cape Canaveral", which included spring loaded "rockets", the "Moonbase" which had little green men and a working control room, and the Civil War setup, which included so many pieces that I don't think I ever actually "played" with it. It used to take about three hours just to position all the men. Sister always got dolls, and her bedroom was filled to the brim with them. She collected Tammy dolls, Ideal's answer to Mattel's Barbie. My brother received the castle set with knights who had snap on armor. One Christmas, Santa brought both my brother and I G.I. Joe "action figures." (Boys never called them "dolls") and I even had a helicopter for my G.I. Joe to ride around in. On Christmas morning throughout our elementary school years, Dad and Mom must have been very tired when we would awake them at first light, having stayed up most of the night "preparing" Santa's surprise. I even remember my sister and brother and I laying awake in the middle of the night "listening for Santa". My Mother told us she left the back door unlocked, and kept the cookies and milk on the kitchen counter, because we didnt' have a chimney for Santa to crawl through.
The Films of Christmas I still get a warm fuzzy feeling when watching my favorite Christmas movies. I've always loved to watch and study films, and collect them when they became available though home video. The first Christmas films I remember watching were at school. I still try to catch the old 1938 MGM version of "A Christmas Carol". The first time I saw "It's a Wonderful Life" was when I was in junior high. We watched that film every year. "The Wizard of Oz" is remembered by me as a Christmas movie. It always aired during the holiday season, and is my favorite movie of all time to this day. On television in the late 60s, what are now called the "classics" aired for the first time. The stop motion animated "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, with Hermy and the island of lost toys, "A Charlie Brown Christmas," with the ugly little tree, and "Frosty the Snowman", who always elicits the voice of Burl Ives, became staples of Christmas entertainment. The entire family would gather around the television set, as if it were an old hearth, and watch these perennials. My favorite Christmas television show was Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, in which the blind crumudgeon voiced by Jim Backus was Scrooge. I would love to find this on DVD or broadcast again during the holidays. It was a musical, and had some fantastic songs I can still hum. In 2008 I finally found the whole program, divided into three segments on YouTube.
The Last Christmas Right before my mother had her stroke, the family had moved, and we spent our last Christmas together in 1971. By now, Dad, who had been so robust a "Santa" was quite feeble. He would pass away in three more years. In 1971, I had already graduated from high school, and I worked full time as a garden manager at Oles' Home Centers in the town in which I grew up, so I had money to buy gifts. That last Christmas, we siblings bought each other gifts for the first and last time. I remember my brother's "gift" to me containing the wrath of the god Cthulu, from H.P. Lovecraftian literature. I wasn't supposed to open the gift, which I did, because it would release evil into the world. We had a good laugh, not realizing that our own little world would soon be crashing down about us, so perhaps this was a warning. I shopped for my gifts in the gift shops along Glendora Blvd, where we were now living, and also back in my hometown of Rosemead, where I still worked. I also attended college full time at USC during this time. In those times between school and work, I hung out with Gabriella, an ex high school friend, at the gift shop where she worked, and I bought a lot of my gifts for the family that Christmas in that gift shop. Christmas of 1971 was wonderfully joyful, filled with jokes, laughter, and good cheer, even in spite of the fact we still used the silver artificial tree.
The Spirit Leaves Our Family When mom went into the hospital following her stroke, I don't have any solid memory of celebratiing Christmas for the next three years. Dad finally passed away, and I moved from the family home into an apartment. Sister got married. I gave the bride away. Brother stayed in the family home until we had to sell it because my Mother couldn't receive Medicare benefits for her stay in the nursing home while she owned property. I still watched the holiday films, and I still gave assorted gifts to family and friends, but the Spirit of Christmas quietly left our lives. Sister took the boxes of my Mother's Christmas ornaments and decorations with her. Since she was the first to leave the house, which had ceased being a home, she removed most of what I would call our "legacy items" including the photo albums and a lot of the furniture. I didn't care too much about "legacies" in those days, since I had just turned 21 in 1974 when my Dad died. I soon grew completely tired of Christmas, as well, because I worked in the Christmas Tree lot at Ole's Home Centers and saw enough of Christmas at the retail store.
Bah, Humbug For many years following the breakup of our family, I didn't "celebrate" Christmas. I became as old Mr. Scrooge, berating the holiday. This was rather easy in the 70s, as the holiday seemd to become overcommercialized. I always found myself managing the tree lot, and instead of Christmas cheer, I seemed to witness that old evil of Cthulu that I released from my brother's present, as I witnessed seemingly fine human beings grabbing trees out of each other's hands and quarrelling over which was the "best". As each year passed, the tree lots got bigger. When I was a manager for FedMart in Culver City in 1980, we lost about a hundred thousand dollars in the tree lot, which saw hundreds of trees being tossed off trucks, and very little security. I was even involved in the "investigation" since I managed the lot, among other departments, including the toy department. As memory of these times washes over me, I can plainly see why I wasn't in the "spirit" when managing toy departments and tree lots during the holiday. People can get really mean when they can't find the right Cabbage Patch doll or Teddy Ruxpin for thier kids. Christmas shopping is brutal, and I humbugged along through many years.
I did give at Christmas time, however, during the 70s and 80s. I would give my friends little bags of marijuana, tied with ribbons. I never bought a tree, and didn't decorate my apartments. "Pot" only cost 10 dollars an ounce in those days, so giving away "dope" was not a very expensive thing to do. I would say that I "celebrated" in my own way. I wasn't really interested in the Holiday again though until I got out of retail in 1987.
After my parents' death, I did spend Christmas day with a variety of the families of friends, so although I say the Spirit left, it did not go away completely. My friends Tom and Mark, especially, invited me into their homes, and their parents always made sure I had a gift to open on Christmas day. Tom's family especially became my surrogate family for many seasons. I have never lacked for company during the Holidays, and actually I look back and thank God that I have had so many wonderful giving people in my life to help make my holiday a happy one, no matter how "humbugged" I might proclaim myself.
The Annual Christmas Party (edited 12/14/12)
When I joined my present employer in 1988, as a technician wiring control panels, I cemented what has become a 24 year association. (My Silver Anniversary is coming up in March and now I'm one of the top five executives!) The family who owns the company always present their employees with a Christmas party. We have less than 20 employees now, and the party is held in the conference room, but at one time in the mid 90s, there were over 50 employees. We would always stop work at 11:30am, turn the phones, off, and head out to one of Long Beach's fancy restaurants for a fantastic meal, door prize drawings, gift exchanges, and the giving out of the bonus checks. We sang Christmas carols. Usually "Jingle Bells" drowned out by our CEO's booming voice. We'd drink alcohol if so inclined, the only time anybody "at work" might loosen up a bit, and we got to see faces of our workmates on a more friendly basis. Everyone would hug each other after the party ended, and we always get quite a few days off before returning to work.
Since our CEO's stroke, coupled with the recession, the party may be smaller, but no less jolly. This ritual has been my "Christmas" for a long time. Most times, if I win a door prize, it may be the only gift I might receive. I have received telephones, cameras, and computer gear when I really needed them. I have won television sets, which I have given up so that somebody else less fortunate could enjoy. I haven't won a door prize in three years, but this year I am hoping to get the 50" LCD HDTV to replace my aging projection set! My bonus is also always a great gift, and is always needed, however I never "expect" it, and our controller at work always jokes about how we won't get a bonus each and every year. Jack, our CEO, will be attending. He's pushing 90 now, and the debilitating stroke he suffered a few years ago is grating on him, but he's doing pretty well, and he is our once and forever "Father Christmas!"
The Ghost of Christmas Future
Perhaps I'll have a family oneday. I doubt that I'll ever be able to play Santa Claus. But the hope is there. As I age, I kind of miss the fact I've not sired progeny. My releationships are few and far between, but this doesn't stop my love of the Holidays now, or my love of humanity. As I walked from my car to my front door during Christmastime 2005, with my Santa's cap still on my head from the party, one of the neighbor children, a toddler, waved to me. "Santy Claus" he whispered. "I bet you didn't know Santa Claus lived in the complex." I boomed. "Have you been a good boy?" "Yes, sir" he replied, as I shed a small tear, and waved vigorously. Planning for Christmas 2012, I started growing my beard back last month, and lately I've been taking my power walks while donning my Santa cap.
Last year I began a new tradition, creating what I like to call the "Mikivity Scene" on my dining room table. This year, both windows facing the street contain Christmas tableaus, and I'm stringing lights. Here are a couple of photos showing my progress so far. I'll post the results when I've finished this weekend.
I started this life with awe and wonder at the Christmas Holiday, and I believed in Santa, and in the glorious power of Christ at the same time.
For many years, following personal tragedy, I became a bit of a Scrooge myself, but I still always had good will and the love of my friends, and my "surrogate families".
The Holiday is a special time of year, and this year I will most probably spend Christmas alone, since I bought my own home and no longer have roommates. I look back on my life, my "wonderful life" and I pray that each person in my aura can be touched with the love that has touched me during this most glorious of Holidays.
I want to thank everyone who watched my "Dance to 2013" video and left such wonderful uplifting comments. I don't know why the entry never even made it to the top blog page at all,
but it was the number one recommended entry for a couple of minutes there. 
I do plan to make visits, but when the day is like it was today, I just gotta get out of the house, you understand. Now it's late and time to go watch a blu ray, make tomorrow's lunch and go to bed. Hopefully I won't be sharing my bed with anymore spiders. 
Ellen hasn't called yet. But I'm satisfied. 28 views on YouTube (prolly from here. 4 on Vimeo last night. Not bad for a 20 minute vid. If I get enough love and support, I may even post a (much shorter) Mike's Video Blog (Mike's Vlog?) each and every week. Next up, a twitter feed. And I plan to post more regularly on FB. I explained my plans in this vid, but had to leave that on the cutting room floor, so to speak, too long as it is....MFN/ppf
I'd been waiting for the space shuttle Endeavour, strapped to the back of a NASA Boeing 747 "shuttle" to fly low over many southern California landmarks, and I especially took the day off to photograph this most excellent and once in a lifetime event. When I walked out of the house this morning, I got a couple of shots of Endeavour flying overhead. I can't believe how good these came out.
(I'm amazed sometimes at how well I write. Aren't you?) (Also how many parenthesis I use.) 
Anything is possible. Upcoming Xanga entries will include my first 
But it does feel good that I can step outside my house, and/or take my camera along with me on my daily walk to get good photos.
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