I Love Little Things Like This...

I am online reading an article about the latest book by Bob Woodward when I suddenly realize that the random mix on my iTunes is playing a song by Neil Young called "Campaigner" ~ the refrain of which is...

"Where even Richard Nixon has got soul."

Sometime I will have to blog about how I got turned onto Neil Young and this album particularly. It goes back to the very wild old days.

Hoping, Praying and Keeping My Fingers Crossed...

As a stagehand,it is the nature of my work that I show up at different venues all the time. Sometimes it is just for a few hours or days and then it is onto the next gig which might last longer. I had the good fortune to spend about 10 months of last year working on two different films, “Rent” and “The Pursuit of Happyness”.

One of my first jobs was one of the best. I was asked to show up at the Industrial Light and Magic model shop. This group had been creating special effects models for George Lucas since the original Starwars. As the guy at the union office described the situation, “They are an amazing group of artists who build incredible, unbelievable models used for special effects in movies. You’re not going to do that, but you will clean up their messes.”

Well, it was very cool. For 4 months I worked with one of the nicest, most interesting work environments you could imagine. They were working on the models for “Starwars Episode III” and it was incredible what passed for “work” there. The facility was a short bike ride from my house, the work was very laid back and the people were great.

In any event, George Lucas has gone over to the dark side of computer generated special effects and was going to close this amazing little facility ~ putting out of work hundreds of special effects artisans and shuttering what he began as a rebellion against big money Hollywood power and that was the cornerstone of the all the success that followed for him. Model based special effects were what made his name in the first place.

One of the guys decided it couldn’t happen and put together a group to buy ILM from Lucas. They have just been up and running for a month and a half. I got a call from the hall to show up and help them move some things around. I was amazed by what I saw when I showed up. I expected it to be kind of empty and quiet as they got going. The place was actually in full swing with several projects underway and a great energy in the air.

Everyone remembered me from my previous time there and gave me a great welcome. When I mentioned that everyone from before seemed to be there, the President said, “They are now that you’re here.” I ran into the head of operations later, and he mentioned that they were considering an opening level position he thought I’d be great for. This deal may make it or it may not, but it is a great job nearby at the least. If it actually took off, I would be getting in at the ground level of a fascinating niche in the film industry. No matter how carefully I could have “directed” my “career”… I never would have been able to find my way to something as cool as this.

Right now they just need me for a few days, but…

Tom, Part II

When I called Bob back to tell him I’d be o.k. and that he should take off… he’s just not that kind of guy. He was waiting for me when I pulled up. It was and extended care facility, what we used to call “old folks homes” back in the Midwest. Tom is younger than I am. Probably 45 years old. He is one of those people whose intensity and edge rarely dulled ~ big smile, energetic stride, infectious laugh. When he was in a good mood his smile beamed across a room and his eyes sparkled. When something was bothering him, you sensed a dark thunder cloud holding back it’s lighting. One way or the other, you always knew when Tom was around.

Bob has already been there that morning for about an hour with Tom. Praying and meditating with him; rubbing soothing balm on his feet and just making him feel loved and valued. I was prepared by Bob’s description for the change in Tom’s appearance, but it was still a shock. This good sized, strong, full of life guy was laying in a bed about 30 pounds lighter than when I had last seen him. His muscles degenerated to rubbery pliancy that couldn’t move his body without assistance. He was able to raise his arm enough to shakily communicate on a dry wipe board. He couldn’t move his head enough to shake “yes” or “no”, just able to answer affirmatively by giving a weak thumbs up. Tapping on his chest and pointing at you meant “I Love You.”

Encountering this, I really didn’t know what to do or say. After a while I got over my shock and stumbled in the direction of as normal a communication as the circumstances would allow. I wanted him to know why it felt important to me to come. I wanted him to know he mattered. It was pretty evident that he was dying, with nothing short of a miracle to save him. I really wanted to talk to him in a way that acknowledged that he was dying, not to act like it wasn’t happening. The slender hope that some sort of survival existed kept me from doing that. So I talked about the times we visited after meetings. I reminded him that I had always identified with his sharing about using anger and intensity to keep connection with others at bay.

He motioned for the writing board. In a painstaking, barely legible scrawl he wrote the words…

“Mad men”

then he looked very seriously at me. Fire, intensity and passion still lived in his eyes. He wrote the word “Not” in front of those two words. As vigorously as he could he pointed his index finger between the two of us and the words. “Not mad men.” We were not anymore. With the help of a spiritual path, we had set down those tools. Far from perfect, we might pick them up from time to time, but there was no longer the interest in hanging onto them, honing their infliction of pain... that ultimately was aimed at ourselves. Keeping us separated from others and therefore separated from the chance to love and be loved… ultimately practicing the rigidity that prevented us from learning to learn to love ourselves. To forgive ourselves by forgiving others. Softening judgment and opening to commonality.

My judgments about homosexuality just didn’t have a place at the bedside of this man’s painful fight for survival. I had no trouble telling Tom I loved him, kissing his forehead, brushing his hair with my hand and holding him as gingerly as I could. Wishing there was more I could do to change his circumstances and ease his suffering, but being humbled by the reality that there was not.

Can't Wait...

until that damn song by Gilbert O'Sullivan "Alone Again, Naturally" quits running through my head... and doesn't mean what it does right now ~ the fumbled chance to have a relationship with an amazing woman. When she was interested I had something else going on. Now that I was ready... she has moved on. I kept telling myself how much I'd regret it if #1 cost me the opportunity with #2...

And.

It.

Did.

Just got a call from a friend telling me that a mutual friend had passed away. That phrase “passed away” does justice to the ending of a life from the ravages of AIDS. I met Tom as members of a path that heals fear through love. What he told of his past struck a chord of kinship within me. Tom was probably a more authentic tough guy than I was, but we both used intensity and anger to keep people from seeing how scared and vulnerable we felt ~ how uncomfortable we were being what we could not help being… human.

I was never comfortable with Tom’s homosexuality or bisexuality (he has a beautiful daughter) or whatever it is. I am skeptical of any conviction that deviates from the penis/vagina program. If you look at how those two body parts are complimentarily designed, how it feels when they are joined and what comes (sorry) from when they do ~ the birth of another human being… I just can’t bring myself to believe that homosexuality is anything, but a confused, mistaken notion. In any event, I still recognized that my discomfort is a condition of fear on my side of the street. In addition to honoring what we shared in common, I was happy to become friends with Tom to practice letting go of that part within me that creates separation by judging.

Tom moved to a different part of the county and our meetings became further and fewer between, but I always felt a connection when we saw each other. At least in terms of overcoming the use of anger as a tool and turning to the path of Gentleness, Humility and Love… we were brothers. I saw Tom just a couple of months ago at a meeting, and noticed that he didn’t look so well physically and seemed emotionally drained. We didn’t get to exchange more than a brief greeting on his way out the door. I didn’t know that he had just received the news that his HIV had veered into full blown AIDS. He had been diagnosed with lesions on the brain. I am not a doctor, but I don’t think you need to be to understand the devastation wrought by open, untreatable, inoperable sores on your brain.

I heard a month of so later that Tom was very sick. No invitation was extended to me to see him, and I didn’t seek it out. I wish the truth were different, but my prejudice got in the way. I figured it was AIDS related, and while I cared about Tom, part of me was judgmental of the lifestyle that brought this to his doorstep. In my better moments I am above thinking like this, but I so often fall short of the spiritual ideals that open my heart. I pick and I choose, until the enormity of trying to balance all that which can’t be… brings me to my knees. Defeated by applying my limited intellect to the mysterious currents of life and their unknown destinies… I look for help from a power greater than myself to help me set down all the false ideas that disconnect me… that separate me from my Brothers.... from Myself.

A Friend, who is much more than a Friend, let me know that Tom was in a care facility nearby. An immediacy was lent as he said that Tom was very near to “making the final journey home.” This man who I respect so much asked me if I would join him in visiting Tom, and I was grateful for the opportunity to amend my previous harsh thinking, to overcome myself and again walk the path of humble acceptance of another as they are. I wanted Tom to know that he had mattered to me… that despite our differences, we shared the path of turning from fear and anger to Peace and Love. I wanted Tom to know as he approached the dark place of which we cannot know … that he was not alone.

My Friend and I had planned to visit Tom on Tuesday, but Monday morning I found myself unexpectedly with time on my hands. I was on the Embarcadero downtown when I got a hold of him hoping that we could see Tom together that morning. It turned out that he had already been to visit Tom and was just leaving. He gave me directions and encouraged me to follow his visit with mine. I could tell he wanted to go. He had been with Tom for an hour or so, and it had been emotionally draining. It was clear in his voice that he’d rather not wait for me… that I was on my own. As he was relating how he had rubbed salve on Tom’s feet the fear that had been lurking in the shadows sprang forth in my mind.

I took a deep breath and told him the truth. I didn’t struggle as much with the intimacy of death with my friend Tom… but I still struggled with the homosexuality that brought him there. I told him that I really wished that he could wait for me. I admitted that I was afraid to go by myself… afraid that without help, without support ~ I might not be able to find the loving way within me that the circumstances so clearly merited. This Man is a Dear and Deep Friend, a Teacher in so many ways. His capacity for Kindness awes and inspires me to its pale imitation. He didn’t hesitate to ask me how long it would take me to get there… that he would meet me, if only to stay a bit and then go. I thanked him and was filled with the strength that comes from having a partner in facing difficulty.

I was on the Golden Gate Bridge when I realized that in confronting my fear I had selfishly relied upon the openhearted generosity of my Teacher… without taking the time to ask for the help of whatever it is that teaches us all. . I am not the kind of person whose spirituality demands an all knowing god that pays particular attention to the comings and goings of my life, but I do believe in a power greater than myself. I believe that I am a small part of that power ~ that prayer and meditation can clear away the false thoughts that keep me from knowing that I am and walking forward as that. Crossing that breathtaking span over the bay, I recited the Serenity Prayer and directly related it to visiting Tom.

God, grant me the serenity to visit Tom
The courage to visit Tom
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Taking a deep breath, I knew immediately I could see Tom and would be shown what to do if I remained willing. All I had to do was show up, keep breathing and open up the Love that exists beneath the veneer of my fears.

I'm Not Sure...

But I think the pope was in esseff...



I was enjoying my lunch break down town and encountered a vehicle that looks like the pope-mobile to me.

O.K., So Help Me Understand This...

Unfortunately the pope (lower case intentional... I am NOT a fan of the vatican) apparently included in a speech a reference that links islam historically to violence. And the response of islam...

Islamic militants vow war after pope comments
Middle East Christians express fears in face of continued Muslim fury

CAIRO, Egypt - Al-Qaida in Iraq warned Pope Benedict XVI on Monday that its war against Christianity and the West will go on until Islam takes over the world, and Iran’s supreme leader called for more protests over the pontiff’s remarks on Islam.

“You infidels and despots, we will continue our jihad (holy war) and never stop until God avails us to chop your necks and raise the fluttering banner of monotheism, when God’s rule is established governing all people and nations,” said the statement by the Mujahedeen Shura Council, an umbrella organization of Sunni Arab extremist groups in Iraq.

Another Iraqi extremist group, Ansar al-Sunna, challenged “sleeping Muslims” to prove their manhood by doing something other than “issuing statements or holding demonstrations.”
“If the stupid pig is prancing with his blasphemies in his house,” the group said in a Web statement, referring to the pope, “then let him wait for the day coming soon when the armies of the religion of right knock on the walls of Rome.”

The anger recalled the outrage earlier this year over cartoons depicting the prophet published by a Danish paper. The caricatures, which Muslims saw as insulting Muhammad, set off large, violent protests across the Islamic world.


Wow! What a surprise. There was another one about slitting throats over this that I couldn't find. I don't know about anyone else, but I am tired of a delusional culture asking to be taken seriously.

I've said it before and I'll say it again... there is no doubt in my mind that there are hundreds of thousands, perhaps more than a million, muslim men who would knock on my door and stab me to death simply for posting this blog raising the hideous pathology of their "religious beliefs"!!!

Oh, yeah... I caught it that these are quoates of "militants", but the problem with islam lies in the outright support or at least acquiesence of the majority of muslims to these insane views and the violence enacted on behalf of their "religion" against non-believing infidels... thats US folks!!!

Earth to hate-filled morons... basically all we want to do is sell you iPods and hope that someday you'll treat women a little better than your livestock. Basically all you want to do is kill everyone who doesn't believe what you believe. CHILL OUT!!!

Please... bring on the puppies!!!

The Next Time...

...I am ranting and raving in the front yard about some cosmic injustice, I hope the neighbor will turn to his wife and say, "He's at it again... Unleash the pack of Labs!" Then realizing my determination to remain unhappy, "Wait a minute Honey. Better make it puppies..."

Work Shots

Tanker passing by Ft. Mason while on my coffee break.

City skyline out the window while about 40 feet up in a scissors lift inside an event facility.

Sunday Morning...

Went down to a favorite little cafe for breakfast this morning. When it opened, I stopped by months ago just to check out the menu. When I saw that they had "pecan encrusted challah bread french toast filled with sweet cheese"... I said, "Table Please!!!" and have been going back often on Sunday morning since. For some reason, I slept in today and the place was too crowded by the time I got there. Decided to come back to my place and enjoy my usual summer breakfast...
Yogurt covered with granola, strawberries, chopped almonds and drizzled with honey. During the winter the yogurt and granola are replaced by my special oatmeal. Coffee roasted right here in town. Years ago, I used to get the Weekend Times, but soon realized that spending most of the day wading through it was a waste of time and gave up on it. Now it's more symbolic than anything. Enjoyed visiting with my Best Friend back in St. Louis...

And now it's off for a hike down the street...

Well, didn't make it for the hike. Got a call from a Friend who has been having psychological challenges. It's a long story and I ought to blog about it. It has been a weird year in terms of people I have become close to going through difficulties. It has been kind of one big thing right after the other every two months or so since the beginning of the year. Uh oh... just realized that the last one was about two months ago.