In the upper Amazon at its beginning, everyone has a chore.
I was told by a woman working to sweep a floor,
We don’t have welfare; we work more.
We have a rule for all to follow
No work, no food to swallow.
It works well for us all.
We love to eat
We think it’s
Neat.
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What is Fair?
The news is currently filled with debates and new laws about transgender individuals in sports. Should a man who wants to live like a woman be in the same race with other women? I think it’s too bad that they’re going to settle this argument in court with a new law – a red line you shall not cross– that can sometimes feel unfair to someone.
I have a way to let transgender women compete with women but not against them. Transgender people should still be able to compete. This is part of their freedom, which we are so proud of in the United States. How do we make it fair to all involved? In most areas there are not enough transgender individuals to compete against themselves in any one area. We need to make an adjustment.
Using colleges as an example, we could see how one plan would work. In most competitions, the first, second, and third trophies are awarded to the individuals who crossed the finish line in that order. This works well and is fair within the group. The colleges would form a women’s group and a men’s group, but not have enough for the transgender category. Perhaps only one or two transgenders would run in that particular race. Some transgenders would run in the race with the women, others with the men, depending on what they prefer. The women would be competing alongside them, not against them. They would be competing with other transgenders across the division/country. Prizes would be awarded to the women in the race, as normal. The transgender time would be logged into a central location, where the stats for transgender individuals are kept as a separate group from the women. For example, there would be a first, second, and third in the transgender 100m race within the Division, not the individual school.
It is fair and does not discriminate in any way. A group would need different rules, but the team may allow one transgender for each 8- or 10-members on the team, or a percentage like 5, 10 or 15% of the team. They would be regular team members, and no other accommodation would be needed. We would have to get over the idea that if someone is different from us, it doesn’t mean we are better than them.
I have been fortunate to have visited this magnificent river three times.
Each time you go to a different area, it doesn’t matter where you start.
It will amaze you as it works its way on a path that winds
Through the jungle to a very different, unique part.
The animals are watching you all the way
Glad to see you if you don’t stay.
It’s their private home after all.
You are allowed to visit.
And have a ball.
But move on
Don’t stall.
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As we age, we should share our insight and knowledge with humanity. As we get older, we should not accumulate. Rather, we should shed our responsibilities to find our real self and live as who we are rather than who we were to others. I will choose to see my life not as another book to be written, but as a rock in the stream of life, to be reshaped by the waters as they rush past me into something new.
Success is no longer a goal. Wondering how a bird makes its nest is. I must leave the intoxication of success for the peace of metaphysical endeavors. We are happiest when we are striving for the things in life that are embedded and personal in our world. No Fear, only love and kindness that bring joy to me and others around me. I can only do this if I discard the various layers of denial of my physical and mental evaporation as I age, and leave the competition in life to a younger generation.
My car has a button for pretty much everything
There’s even one that says rear wiper.
I have been too shy John Deere The bugs are to push that one
The Panama Canal is an amazing and wonderful endeavor
Ships can now pass between two oceans forever.
A bridge was needed so cars could pass
So, one was built and built to last
It has a beautiful design
And it lights up at
Night just
Fine.
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One of the greatest realizations I have had as I look around me, and one that brings me great joy, is that I can say, with a smile on my face, that I know nothing, and it is true. In reality, none of us knows anything because all we think we know will change with time. It is a great relief not to have the troubles of the world on your back. It gives you permission to enjoy the years we have and to share them with those we love on some of the world’s great rivers.
When you let your mind drift back to the past
You will experience both joy and tears
Both of which are enhanced
With a couple of beers.
I asked my wife what women really want. She said
A tent of lovers, or maybe it was an attentive lover,
When half the country. Just over 50% votes in a leader to be their representative to the world that is a convicted criminal, a tax Dodger to the extent of $430 million from the IRS, and a blatant liar when he gives talks, as proven by the fact checkers, it means they, the voters, approve of all of that which makes them the same as their chosen leader.
Perhaps all the countries should deport the Americans in their country, because obviously, they condone hate, racism, and criminal activity. I’m sure that they don’t want that garbage in their country.
There are islands in all the seas waiting for us to visit if we please.
The girls will dance
For you each night.
Everyone is happy
There is never a fight
They are so pretty
You cannot resist
You ask them to dance
Again, before they
Dismiss.
The sun slowly fades into the night
The lights come on to our delight.
The dancers glide onto the stage
They know every movement
They have practiced all year
We sit marveling at their skill
As we eat and drink our beer.
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Tomorrow is Easter, April 5, 2015. This morning, I got up at 4:30 am and watched the moon hide in the shadow of the Earth, an event that helps us define who we are and what we are. It made me reflect on my life. What came to mind were the Easters I spent as a child. They were some of the happiest times in my life that we old folks who live at the end of the street still enjoy, in our journeys through memory.
In my family, we all gathered at my Aunt Aggie’s house. There were about 20 of us. The years were in the early 1940s. She and Uncle Leo had about an acre of land right on the Los Angeles River somewhere in “the valley.” I have no idea now where that would be, but it was rural. She had a goat that she milked, and my cousins and I would go out to see if we could milk it. We were primarily city kids, and milking a goat was a skill we didn’t possess. My aunt would squirt the milk into our mouths from three feet away. Of course, it would get all over us, and that was part of the fun.
Being right across the street from the river, the cousins (there were four of us who lived close enough to be there) were given the duty of collecting enough crawdads to put in the salad. The L.A. River was all mud banks back then, and it was full of crawdads. We even had a swimming hole in it and went swimming if the weather permitted us to, without our mothers thinking we would get too cold and get sick. My mother and all my aunts would prepare the meal, and of course, the crawdad salad was my favorite part of it.
L.A. River circa 1940
As I write this, there are tears running down my face. These were wonderful times. Now the river is all cement. No more crawdads. No more swimming hole. No more goat milk. All of those people are dead now, except two of my cousins and me. I don’t think any of us have had a crawdad salad or gone swimming in a swimming hole or milked a goat for a long long time. What a travesty that is.
John's Book of Life 