Indigo Rant: Critics

Great barracuda with prey.

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You’re so vain …..

I bet you think this post is about you..Perhaps it is..If you see yourself in the forthcoming words, don’t be alarmed, just listen…

Ronald Reagan once said “I don’t pay much attention to critics.

The world is divided into two kinds of people:

Those who can and those who criticize.”

No truer words were ever spoken by anyone.  The fact that it comes from someone I disagreed with politically and morally do not take away from the wisdom of those words.

It seems that where there is art and where there are artists and creative types there are a few critics hanging around.  I guess that makes sense, for how could a critic be a critic without something or someone to criticize. Usually critics have trouble with the creation process themselves, they tend to resent those for whom creativity comes naturally.

These people are usually bright and scholarly. Some have impressive degrees and credentials but one can’t just acquire creativity so easily and so shallowly.  Creativity cannot be taught by convention and laws and whatever someone said before.  Creativity is from the heart.  From the soul itself and everything that is the essence of a person; all the beauty and the ugliness. 

It could be some cannot bare to give a long hard look at themselves.  Maybe it’s ego? It would be easy to think these critical types would have enormous egos but it may be quite the opposite.  I think that criticism….I’m talking about unconstructive criticism, not anyone trying to be helpful but someone who is trying to be hurtful.  A petty spiteful kind of criticism, I think that kind of criticism shows in a profound manner, the character of the one who’s criticizing.

I feel I must say something to these people, these critics, why leave it all to Ronnie Baby.  So here it goes…

I have a little advice for Mr. and/or Ms. Critical.  Free your Mind.  Acknowledge the fact that you do not know everything about everything. I don’t know if you are bored or angry or lonely or whatever, I do know that your kind destroys what it does not understand in its quest for its posession. 

For my friend,  You do not possess creativity or the appreciation of it.  It possesses you. Learn it, know it, feel it.  Perhaps you may join the world of those who contribute, we would love to have you

Wishing you well…

Strawberryindigo.

When it Rains it Pours

The clouds were amazing this afternoon during ...

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My life in color has sure proven “more colorful” indeed.  To say that last week was a bad week would be an extreme understatement.  Last week was horrid, it was the week from hell and I’m glad it’s finally over…

In a wisp of a second, just like THAT. Life can turn on a dime. 

There I am sitting high on top of a mountain, my head in the clouds. I am looking to the sky and shouting; “Life is great!”  I am invincible.  I am full of magic and I can do anything!  The day is long and warm and full of sun.  Its seems it never will end and then…. it does.

The harsh wind of reality blows in, it’s freezing cold.  It raps at my door and knocks it down. BAM!  Once, twice, three times. It cuts, each as deep as the next and I’m left wondering “What the hell was That?”

It seems to be raining on my parade at the moment and when it rains it pours.  One piece of bad news after another, Like tsunamis hitting my beaches.  I am torn and battered.  My coastline has taken quite a beating.  I will survive but I cannot help but wonder “What’s next?”

I pride myself in my ability to stay calm and rational in a crisis. I like to think of myself as the voice of reason in a sea of emotional wrecks.  I still am calm, even seemingly emotionless about my sudden change of fortune but on the inside I suffer. I am human after all.

Over this “Week from Hell” I have acquired another funny little quirk to add to my list of funny little quirks.  I literally have a pain in my neck and its all in my head.  Oh yes.  apparently I am one of “those people” now. I do have to say in my defense, without going into any detail, that the stuff I am dealing with now would scare the bejesus out of the toughest of us. 

I know that nothing lasts forever, and that it’s always darkest before the dawn and all that. I will persevere because I believe I will. That is not the question nor was it when this odyssey began.  The question in my mind isn’t “Why?’  I know there is no answer to that question.  My question is “What.”

What have I learned from all this?   What could someone possibly learn from these unfortunate twists and turns of fate?  I grappled with this for days.  I paced. I drank lots of coffee and I thought.  My ego would like to tell you the brilliance of my mind came up with the answer, but the honesty of my heart cannot tell a lie. For it was not me.

There is someone I know, we are partners in woe but his woe is worse than mine. He has picked this time to undergo the greatest challenge anyone can undergo;  The challenge to conquer himself.  I am very much impressed and inspired by this act and more importantly by this person.

I think this quote really fits;

“Times of Trouble best discover the true worth of a man.”

                                  **Thomas à Kempis**

and

“When we are strong, we are always much greater than the things that happen to us.”        **Thomas Merton**

I now know the true meaning of these true ideas because of this inspiring person. I couldn’t be more proud of anyone for anything.

You are my hero, M.M. and this I shout to the world!


KEEP THE FAITH

Strawberryindigo.

 

Totally Awesome Top Ten Sci-Fi Movie List

Gort (The Day the Earth Stood Still)

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Top Ten lists; Love them or hate them?  You’ll LOVE these…

M.M. and I have been working hard and burning the midnight oil.  Sitting in the dark and watching some great movies.  Each of us have come up with our top ten Science Fiction movie picks of all time.

We totally recommend these superb movies in this awesome genre….And now without further ado, I present THE LISTS…

M.M’s top ten Sci-Fi Screen Gems

  1. Forbidden Planet (1956) 

  2. The Time Machine (1960)

  3. The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

  4. The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

  5. Alien (1979)

  6. Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

  7. Planet of the Apes (1968)

  8. Avatar (2009)

  9. Fantastic Voyage (1966)

  10. Superman (1978)

Strawberryindigo’s Fave Sci-fi flicks
  1. Avatar (2009)
  2. The Terminator (1984) & Terminator 2 (1991)
  3. The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951)
  4. The Time Machine (1960)
  5. Planet of The Apes (1968)
  6. Alien (1979) & Aliens (1986)
  7. Mars Attacks! (1996)
  8. Fantastic Planet (1973)
  9. Metropolis (1927)

Check out some or all of these terrific movies.  Sit back and enjoy some of the wonders of the human imagination… and pass the popcorn, please.

See any of your favorites here?  Did we hit it dead on or did we totally miss the boat?   What are your favorite Science Fiction movies?

Let me Know…STRAWBERRYINDIGO>

Autumn’s Light

Sugar Maple - Acer saccharum leaves in autumn ...

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There is a certain magic in this time of year.  A wild little whimsy of hope and a tinge of excitement at what adventure the future may bring.  There is a crispness in the air that is fresh and clean and fills me with inspiration.  To me, Autumn  signals a new start, a fresh beginning.  It’s the time to wake up from the haze and laze of summer.

 The dappled sunlight of the dewy morning dances and delights on the amber trees.  The sky is a deep blue and the clouds are soft and cool. I sit quietly under the laurel tree and watch the flourish of life before me. 

The very soil itself teems with life, down to the very microscopic. A seemingly endless variety of insects, crawlers and walkers and flyers.  White butterflies cavort among the Asters.   Attracted by the pineapple sage in the corner, Ruby throated Hummingbirds dart in and out. The crows atop the Jack pine stare down in defiance and call to me. I laugh at them and continue on my way. 

The cats follow me around as I do the watering.  Soon the rains will come and this chore will become a distant memory; something I complain about now but I will miss come January.   

The enormous sugar maple in the distance wears the first few signs of the season. There is a richness that runs through this time of the year. Like a deep and vibrant jewel.  I hold it up to the light and its exquisite beauty stuns me. 

This is one of my favorite times of the year and its easy to see why. I breathe in the moment and plan to hold it forever…

Happy Autumn!

Strawberryindigo. 

And here’s to you, Mr. Starbucks

I must confess; at one time I was a latte whore.  I didn’t care where I got it or how I got It, as long as I got my Chai latte.  It is a weakness of mine that I enjoy, this love for Chai latte; it was love at first sip and its been going strong for a few years.

At first it was a no-brainer; there was no question as to where to get this coveted drink of mine..Starbucks.  This is the place for me, I decided.  It’s a bit corporate, but so what? I know what I’m getting there.

At Starbucks everyone seems so upwardly mobile, so cute in their colorful new clothes..people with jobs and busy lives.  Even the slackers types were busy clicking away with the free Wi Fi.  Everyone was happy and smiled and were friendly.  I guess that is easy to do when you have a job and extra money for fancy coffees.

I like the music in Starbucks, they play all types.  It is the only place where I will hear old jazz tunes from the 40′s my eclectic taste perks to attention on that….Billie Holiday and caffeine?  What more do you want?

We started to frequent a particular one, M.M. and I.  It seemed the lattes were extra good over there.   Frothy and creamy with a swirl of spicy…I am in Latte heaven!

One bright late summer morning last year something happened that at first didn’t seem so bad but then as time went on it got worse.  What I am talking about here doesn’t  sound so bad until you’ve lived it…I really don’t want to offend anyone by what I say.  Especially this group of people but in order I tell my story I must…

I can’t put it any other way than this; It was the cops.  We would walk in and there they were, a pack of them. At first I thought; cool, I have always thought of the police as people too, and I have always appreciated the risks they take everyday for us.  I am not a criminal, I have no record and I should have nothing to fear from the police. They are brave men and women who serve and protect……….but quite the suspicious bunch.

 I felt it right away.  I looked at them as people, they looked at me like a criminal.  I am really very harmless looking, I bet most of them could take me in a fight.  It’s obvious.  So I am surprised when one looks at me like a potential threat.  I suppose they are trained to  be like that, and it’s probably necessary in their book.  But I can’t help but be uncomfortable. 

It is this reason why they are a “they” and everyone else, including the criminals and me are: “We.”  It is also the reason we tried a new place down the street; A laid-back appearing hippie type establishment by the name of Tom and Mary’s.  A picture of Tom and Mary graced the sign out front, they looked so nice.. I liked them instantly, even before we met.  There was tie-dye everywhere and plastic chairs to sit on.  The inside looked like the outside but I thought; so what. 

No more cops and no more corporate guilt.  I am on the edge now, part of the anti establishment crowd …. A latte revolutionist!  Aha!

It was a bit downhill after that though; Tom appeared at least twenty years older in person than he did on the sign.  He didn’t smile or even look at us at all.  He muttered at us while Mary made the lattes.  She wasn’t much friendlier.  M.M.’s attempts at some sort of witty banter with her fell flat.  We could tell she didn’t take fools gladly. Mary was not the laid back hippie princess on the sign, she was a mean old witch.  Yikes!  The lines on her face told the story.

The place was empty and silent as a tomb.   A pimply toucan faced man with a tiny little dog walked in and chatted it up with Tom and Mary who, apparently liked him better than us.  I got the impression that this place didn’t cotton to outsiders who looked like Starbucks people.  I think it was my purple lipstick and Prada bag but I didn’t feel a part of the whole groove anymore.. My dreams of being a revolutionist dashed, I sighed and tried the drink.  It was good, I wanted it to be damn awful, I wanted to spit it out and run back to Starbucks. right then and there. 

We went back a couple of times but could no longer stand it. I am glad to say we returned to  the corporate giant and then I understood the reason for some of their success.  A Smile. The people at Starbucks seemed friendlier and happier. We told those kind people of our ordeal and they welcomed us back with open arms.

And the cops?  They seemed friendlier and happier too.  And different.  Two lady cops at the back booth last time.  I secretly drank a toast to justice and lattes and the two ladies in blue totally ignored us.

Have an excellent day!

Strawberryindigo.

 

The word

Ever since I was a young child that could grip a pencil, I wrote;  scraps and pieces and this and that.  For the most of the last decade, I have not had much time to write.  I was too busy being a mom, but now as my kids grow older, I have more time to pursue my dream of being a writer. 

I believe the time is right for me, I am old enough to have built a library of experiences, wise enough to use them and young enough to be able to use them.

 I believe in the power of words and the power of words to change the world. The world is a big place but there are a lot of words.  Words can unite people. A well-crafted story can take the reader on a journey they couldn’t have gone on otherwise.  I myself have lived many lives through the eyes of another by reading a good book or story…or a good blog.

Just last night I visited the blog of an individual who was not only a talented writer but someone who had a story to tell of a life that I am not well versed in. Through the words of that person I got a small glimpse into a life I wouldn’t have known.  A unique view.  I came away feeling enriched and inspired.

I was inspired enough to ask myself  “Why am writing, what is my message?”  There is no denying that I am compelled to write and now that I am doing it regularly, I feel uneasy and unsettled when I don’t.   Writing has become a part of me that I cannot live without. It is the air that I breathe and it has taken my soul.

I can pour my thoughts out on paper in a way I never could by just speaking.  The more I write, the easier it comes and the more I can produce at a given time.

I am a private and solitary person. I suffer from some social phobias and generally I have found much difficulty in communicating orally.  The written word gives me an outlet to the outside world.

I want to someday inspire others with my words, inspire the good to be great and the bad to be better… perhaps save the world a bit here or there.. a tiny bit of it or myself, anyway.  The world is a big place and I am but one person… I do dream. It may be stupid and it may be futile, but it is better to dream than to not to. So…here I am dreaming and writing away….And wishing you a…

 

Good Night….    Strawberryindigo.

Blue-eyed cat update: The return of Jacky

A blue-eyed stranger came to us this past July, we named him Jacky and he’s quite the cat.  I’ve written of him before, this blue-eyed handsome cat and how he came to live with us.  Much has happened since I last wrote of him. Jacky is turning out to be such an amazing cat, so amazing in fact I think he merits an update…

When last I wrote of him, Jacky was living in two houses, torn between myself and a foul-mouthed harpy down the street I’ve been calling Sally.  Jacky would spend days with me in the garden, playing and napping and eating some good cat food.   At night he would return to Sally.  We had this unspoken shady agreement  between us.  I don’t think she liked it anymore than I did, but there it was.

Untill one night about two or three weeks ago.  Jacky spent the night in the studio, curled up into a cute white furry ball on my writing chair.  I left him there, and when I returned in the morning, he was still there asleep.

I was pleased but I didn’t think much of it.  Jacky is a bit of a rogue and a wanderer. He’s there one moment , gone the next.  Except this time he didn’t go, he stayed with me all day, following me around as I watered the flowers.  That night, again he stayed and he has stayed every night since.

I know this sounds crazy but I think he is fascinated with water, running water.  He prefers to drink out of our leaky bath tap.  You can hear him jump in the bathtub: Plop.  Sometimes he knocks over the shampoo. Sometimes he surprises me in the middle of the night. Every time he gets his sweet little face all wet and every time he is so cute!   I know we should fix the drip, but how can we now?

I really knew this cat loved water when I was watering my lawn the other morning with a sprinkler and he was gingerly drinking from the arc of the spray.  What a cat!

Jacky, our nutty feline also loves to go for walks with his favorite humans.  Whenever M.M. takes the old pug out, Jacky tags along, trailing behind, intrigued with the whole process.  He never wants to be left out on all the fun.  He waits on the front porch, sunning himself and the moment any one of us steps out, he’s there.  He walks ahead of us and then proceeds to roll all over the ground wiggling all over the place.   He is  very irresistible when he does this and we have to stop and pet him.

We go out on special walks, just he and I.  We don’t go far, just around the block but it gives us just enough time to get into some pretty deep conversations.  I would ask him his opinion about this and that; The economy, global warming,  whether I’m too old to color my hair purple or we should take advantage of these historic low rates and refinance the house.  He just meows at me but I get his message.  He’s a pretty smart cat.

Really, he is smart, he sits and watches me make dinner every night now. He just sits on top of a high stool and stares intently. It’s as if he is trying to memorize everything I am doing so he can do it later.  Maybe one morning he will surprise us with breakfast.  He certainly is full of surprises.

Jacky has gained some weight and is getting a belly, but he still is in top shape. I have to give it to Mr. Friskies for that. I am not endorsing anything, the Friskies company is not paying me a dime, but I must say without a doubt, Since I’ve been feeding him the “seafood sensations” Jacky’s coat is so soft and luxurious and so white.  He is also the most muscular cat I’ve ever encountered. I guess it’s all the exercise he gets, walking and skillfully hunting moths by moonlight.

I think moths are attracted to him because he literally glows in the dark.  He sits under the light and the moths come to him.  What a trippy cat. Jacky has definitely made life around here more interesting.

Hope you have an adorably “purrfect” day.

Strawberryindigo.

Hey You! An Indigo Rant

Crosswalk sign

Hey you…Yes you..Can you hear me?  I guess you don’t but I’m going to tell you anyway.  Maybe someone smarter than you may listen and learn something….

We almost hit you today, my friend and I.  We almost plowed right into you with his dark green Honda.  You could have been seriously hurt or worse.  You have no idea how close you came to getting your nice young red blood spilled all over the street.

If it wasn’t for my friend’s lightning quick reflexes and some kick ass breaks you would have been toast today.

I can imagine how your parents would have felt.  You getting hit on your way to school, at the start of a new school year.  Maybe they saw you off this morning, maybe they watched you with pride as you walked off to school.  You are quite tall for your age, which I suspect is about 16.  You with your dark hair and black clothes must have cut quite the figure as you walked off, navy blue backpack, jammed full of books on your back.

Being a parent of a 16-year-old myself, I understand how it’s hard to let go and trust that your kid is going to do the right thing.  You teach what you can and hope for the best.  I’m sure your parents taught you how to cross the street.  I bet they told you to use a cross walk, look both ways and don’t just walk out into moving traffic.  But yet this is just what you did.

You walked into oncoming traffic, without a care in the world…You never even looked up, or you would have seen us.   You, stooped over with your hood covering the tell-tale white cord and ear buds of your IPOD.. you never even heard us, honking at you…you never heard the screech  that the tires made as we stopped just in the nick of time.  We came so close..you came so close, and you never noticed. 

I wanted to stop and get out of the car and chase you down to give you a stern talking to.  I wanted you to know how serious it all is, this life business.  I’ve lived long enough to realise that life is fragile and fate can turn on a dime.  One second of stupidity can make you pay big time for a lifetime.

I know you probably made it to school, the very same school my son goes to, you might even know him.  And you probably made it safely home after school today as my son did. All the while never knowing how close you came to your life changing forever, and not just your life, but your parents lives, who most likely bought you that IPOD and would never forgive themselves for it, or the lives of your friends and family members who would miss you, not to mention, my friend who would have hit you, he never would have been the same either….

And so to anyone who is listening tonight…hug your kid a little tighter tonight, I will.

Stay safe,  Strawberryindigo.

Crazy Neighbor Stomp Down

Idealized mixed nuts, USDA

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Oh what a crazy day in my little neck of the woods..Yikes!  My crazy drunken neighbor was in rare form, he had his car radio turned up and it was blasting the top 40 by 7 a.m.

That man is spirited I must tell you; he started yelling around noon.  The usual “Yeah!” and “Whooah!”.. the music got louder and louder.  As strange as this sounds; I like the guy’s taste in music, so I am enjoying myself out in the front, doing some light weeding and some casual seed harvesting, when the  dried out wheat straw  neurotic from next door shows up.

She asks me about the crazy drunken neighbor, as if I am responsible for the man’s behavior.   “I don’t know why he’s like that, I guess he is crazy.”  She asks me if I have called the cops on him and then asks  “What is my take on this?”   She has this notion that somehow I can resolve this for her because “I have lived here longer.” ( me,11 years her, 6 years)

I informed her of a time I called the cops, only to have them show up at my house, talk to me in right in front and all the while pointing directly at the guy before they talk to him for 2 minutes, then leave.  I tell her that I have an uneasy truce with the guy and I don’t want to ruin it. 

She looks at me like I am crazy.  I suggest that she, Mrs wheat straw call the cops.  She doesn’t like it, she mentions my dying tree in a snide manner, I tell her I’m trying to save the poor thing.  Just then like if on cue; We hear a “Yeah!”  She sighs and scampers off and I am left to my seed heads.

I was busy for most of the day; doing Mom stuff and gardening.  I could hear the party getting louder and louder.  Crazy drunken guy drumming on something and then he starting yelling out words but I couldn’t make out what they were, through all the slur.  I crept up closer and listened..It was “America!”  “God bless America!”  How touching and how patriotic.  This got a laugh out of me and the day progressed and eventually everything became quiet.

He must be napping, I mused and went to make dinner.

I am almost ready to put everything on the table when Act Two begins; It starts with a flurry of loud explosions (Fireworks) and ends a few minutes later with “You dirty F***ing Whore!”  over and over..Then bottles break and the roar of an engine, someone has driven off, I don’t want to look.

We turn up the music (Beatles, Abbey Road) and eat our dinner (chicken and rice, Yum)  I notice that it’s getting dark as the sounds of a click clicking of someone running in high heels tells me the party isn’t quite over yet.

 The night plays out without further incidents, or so I thought….I stayed up late writing about my “Unblinking eye of truth” post and chatting online.  It was about 1:30a.m. when I heard a noise, I didn’t know what it was and opened my front door and looked out.  There was the crazy neighbor’s adult son, I’ll call him Pudgy, kicking over my trash can!  He looks right at me and says with glee; “Call the cops.”

My stupid temper makes me run out and tell him to “Pick that up right now!”  He keeps going.  M.M. drags me inside…I am totally worked up by now and I stay up and drink coffee till I pass out……and then…Good Morning: it’s time to start the day and I’m off on a new adventure!  Have a great day!    Strawberryindigo.

The unblinking eye of the truth

The Unblinking Eye of the Truth

The truth; the whole truth and nothing but the truth…those are familiar words, but do most people truly adhere to every letter of that misused and misunderstood word?  The Truth.  As a word it seems so formidable, so tall and strong.  The truth never blinks an eye and never lets up for a second.

The truth is extremely important to me, maybe too much so. One of my quirky Asperian traits involves the truth and my devotion to it. I am compelled to speak the truth as I see it, I can do no less.

If someone asks for my honest opinion, I must give it. I try to be as diplomatic as possible, but sometimes the truth hurts, no matter how you sugar coat it.  I feel I owe it to people to be honest with them.

I feel that one of the worst lies a person can tell is to themselves. This lie is the most dangerous because it blinds us to reality.  I have tried to be honest with myself, no matter how painful the truth can sometimes be.  This is essential to my personal well-being and long-term success.

I don’t mind being incorrect and I don’t mind being wrong. In fact, I welcome this. I have an open mind; To me, mistakes are opportunities for growth. I try to learn as much as I can from my mistakes and from others mistakes as well…We live in interesting times and I can truthfully say that I have learned a lot.

I have learned that “The Truth” varies with one’s perspective of it.  My friend Einstein let me in on that little nugget and it certainly rings true.  Many conflicts occur because both sides of the argument are convinced that their truth is more true than the others truth,  “You must be wrong because I am right” and all that nonsense.

There are, however, universal truths that we all share.  We all want to live in peace and happiness, to be able to fulfill our hopes and dreams.  We all need love and understanding.  We have so much in common, we share the same planet and we all need each other.

We can deny these truths, we can look away, but in the deepest parts of our hearts we know what is right….. They say “The truth shall set you free” and I truly believe that….and I cannot look away any longer……

Happy Sept.12th.       Strawberryindigo.

“This is the character of truth; it is of all time, it is for all men, it has only to show itself to be recognized, and one cannot argue against it”                    **Voltaire**

Nightly News: An Indigo Rant

"The Blue Marble" is a famous photog...

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A Runaway Train On Meth or how I didn’t stop worrying and love insanity…

It takes an extreme amount of energy to try to keep hopeful on this insane wreck of a planet.  I am a reformed news addict; I simply cannot take it anymore!  The nightly news is so sensationalist and bizarre and oh so depressing. 

I do not need this, I can look outside my window and find bizarre and depressing.  I feel the urge sometimes, to head for hills, or somewhere.  It reminds me of a car wreck, a horrific, bloody mess of a car wreck, a truly sickening sight, I have to look away but then I’m compelled to take a little peek…and I’m frightened at what I see…

We are a great society in decline, a massive and swift decline.  We are in such decline that we are likely to screw it up for all life on this planet, not just ourselves.  We as a species are so egocentric, we believe that the Earth and all its treasures are for us to control and manipulate to our own greedy selfish ends.

We condemn  others who do not share this philosophy of dominance and instead promote unity and coexistence.  Society writes them off as best as well-meaning ignorants or at worst, militant nuts.

I am guilty as the next person, I will admit.  I consume  like a good citizen. I stay out of trouble, I recycle and pay my mortgage on time.  I pay my taxes and I never see the man behind the curtain, I have a good idea that he’s there, pulling all the strings.  I know enough to just pay up and keep my mouth shut….

Or do I?  Maybe I’ve decided not to keep my mouth shut or my eyes.  It’s like a bad dream and  human society is a runaway train on meth and no one is at the controls.  In fact, the crazy passengers on the train of fools are busily arguing as to whether they need an engineer at all.  We are about to jump he tracks. everybody sees it, they all talk about it but do nothing.  It’s like they cannot stop the insanity long enough to see this and I am the only one who does and I’m no damned train engineer,  I want to scream…..”Stop this selfish bickering before it’s too late and we fall into an abyss never to return”…and  no one can hear me but I still shout…….

GOOD night,  Strawberryindigo.

Pancakes with Mr. Obama

Several stacks of silver dollar pancakes

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This story is based purely on speculation and rumors, and may not be true…read at your own risk.

One fine morning on one particular January day, two particular girls came down for breakfast and found their Dad at the stove instead of their Mom. They queried on the absence of their mother and more importantly they asked..”Where is breakfast?”

Mr. Obama smiled one of his signature smiles and said one word “Pancakes“.  The girls were very happy with that; Mom hardly ever made pancakes and the two girls loved pancakes.  Dad always said the right thing.

‘Everything seems so different with Dad doing things but that is what makes them so fun.” He said with one of those smiles again.  The girls weren’t totally convinced and argued among themselves.

One of them thought that Dad lacked the experience to make breakfast, let alone pancakes. “Maybe someone else should make them.” The eldest argued. The other sister, the younger one pleaded “Let’s give him a chance, he says he can do it, besides how bad could it be?” He’s got to be better than Uncle George who burned the breakfast and we ended getting Egg McMuffins at Mickey D’s.

So both girls agreed to pancakes ala Dad.  He smiled again, informing them that it was pancakes they needed and how good those pancakes would taste to folks like them. After he had talked about the pancakes for 20 minutes or so, one of the girls, the older one asked; “Dad, when are you going to make the breakfast you promised, you keep talking but nothing happens.”

It was then that Mr. Obama reluctantly got out the ingredients for the pancakes.  He consulted half a dozen cookbooks, scratched his head and slowly got to work, bragging the whole time, telling the girls how good the pancakes would be.

As he started to mix the ingredients, it was obvious that he didn’t know what he was doing, despite the fact the he kept telling them that he did. He was a mess, he spilled all over the place.  He burned the first few batches and the girls couldn’t help but wonder about Dad as their stomachs started to feel the first pangs of hunger.

With every haphazard move he made, it got more and more obvious to both girls.   Even his supporter the younger girl started to doubt him.  His talk was getting just as cold as the nasty, bumpy, half-baked pancakes he tried to coax the girls into eating.

All the sugary sweet syrup he poured on didn’t help at all. In fact, it only made the pancakes taste worse.  The girl’s were depressed and hungry….and they didn’t want to touch the pancakes.

Mr. Obama suddenly became angry, his trademark smile was gone, replaced by a scowl.  He told the girls that they should eat their pancakes and be happy about it, and that he knew folks like them were hungry and were hurting, and better pancakes were on the way. But for now they should eat what was given to them.

“I am your Father and I’m telling you girls to eat your breakfast!”  he barked.

Finally the girls had to eat the nasty breakfast because time was running out and they were going to be late for school. They hastily ate the pancakes, loaded with all that syrupy rhetoric and ran off to school…

“What can you say?” He’s a nice guy and all, but he doesn’t have a clue on how to make breakfast.” The girls complained at the bus stop.  A frosty wind blew out of the east, it was getting cold outside and their stomachs started to ache…..it was going to be one long winter….

Eat up America….Strawberryindigo.