Have you ever wondered if Karma was real? or thought that maybe it's just some stoners way of describing things without really having to think beyond if you do this, this will happen. Thank you Pavlov. Today I witnessed two things that were ever so simple, but the impact they had on my thought process was profound.
I went to the grocery store today. A young mother with four children (who couldn't have been older than 6) entered right behind me. Feeling her frustration with her herd of children, I managed to be decent for a change and pushed a shopping cart over to her so that she would have one waiting after she finished chasing down one of her missing sheep. She said, "thank you" and so did all four of her little ones. Which impressed me, but what really caught my attention was that as I walked away one of them said, "Mommy, that was a nice man." It really made me feel good about myself.
But before this comes off as an effort to glorify myself I'll get to the karma portion... On the way out of the store, a package fell off of the bottom of my cart. As, I was riding the cart and acting quite childish myself, I didn't notice. But as I was putting my groceries into my truck. A young boy said, "Mister, this fell off of your cart." and he handed me my package.
Now, something so trivial would normally have gone unnoticed by me, but for whatever reason I couldn't help but think that the only reason my package was returned was because I gave a stressed mother a shopping cart. Obviously this isn't scientific proof that karma exists, but on my blog I accept all conjecture and hearsay as long as it isn't "because I said so".
The second occurrence was a bit later as I drove to the office. I'm in my truck enjoying my day, when rock strikes my windshield giving it a good two chips. DAMN IT!! But, I got my work out of the way and drove over to the auto glass shop to get it fixed. Free. Free? Free. Thank goodness for that. I called my auto-insurance carrier to double check I wasn't about to get hit by some unknown when they said that I had a $500 deductable... I didn't remember it being that high. But as of last week, I was due for a rate change. And so to lower my deductable to $100 it would only cost an extra $2 month. This isn't exactly a karma point, but it fits the theme of trivial being significant. I never would have called, had that rock not struck my window. But it turned out that that little bastard of a rock did me a huge favor.
There are so many times in my life that I just have let small things go by unnoticed. But somehow, in the past couple of weeks, I have not only begun to notice and appreciate the little things in life, but also begun to handle the bigger things with much less stress and complaint. Maybe I'm finally becoming an adult (gulp). Or I would like to think that because I have taken care to manage the little things in life, the big ones just come easier. It's so easy to just worry about myself, but there is definitely a sense of self-satisfaction when I have the opportunity to help somebody else. I'm beginning to strongly believe that the more good I do, the more good is returned. And the less I worry, and the more I let roll off of me, the better I can handle the bigger problems that arise. Obviously, this doesn't prove the existence of karma, but then again, you've probably got something better to do than read this blog anyway...
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
A Matter of Time...
Have you ever sat down and just wondered where time goes? There are so many seconds to so many days that just blow past us without us even bothering to acknowledge their importance. I never really gave it much thought until I pondered making time for the next random thought to post on my blog.
If we are meant to make every second count, then A) How do we choose what a worthy use of our time is and B) Who is to say we are right or wrong?
There are so many things that we could be doing with our time. It could be a simple blog, or perhaps chasing an answer to some deep question. Maybe we are supposed to be productive with every second or get something positive done so that we can leave our mark on this planet. But then again, when our time is up, our lives are nothing more than a second to the World we live in. Is it any wonder why there are never enough hours in a day? We pursue so many things that we don't stop to take notice of the individual seconds that go by that are meant for us to simply enjoy life.
I'd never say there is only one right way to live your life, but letting it go by without realizing the amazing things that happen every second of every day, is just wrong. And maybe not morally, but we can't truly appreciate all of the things that life provides until we can stop and look around. I mean... when was the last time you were actually alone in peace? I mean REALLY alone. No phone, no radio, no TV no sound of civilization. We are bothered by so many things that when we should be able to stop and appreciate beauty we are instead trying to fight off the demands on our time.
The old adage is simple, "Time is Money" but how many times have you seen pennies thrown about the ground because they aren't worth it or because it isn't "worth your time" to pick it up? If we are so careless with the actual currency, then how much more careless are we with the seconds we let slip by?
But after we find that noble cause, after we find what makes us tick... Then what? Who determines how we have spent our time on earth?
I don't want 15 minutes of fame... I just want 15 minutes to myself. My life is short enough already, I don't need other people spending my time for me.
I don't have any answers here, just questions. I'm freakin' tired... and every second staring at my hopeless blog is a second I could have been appreciating the beauty of sleep. G'night.
If we are meant to make every second count, then A) How do we choose what a worthy use of our time is and B) Who is to say we are right or wrong?
There are so many things that we could be doing with our time. It could be a simple blog, or perhaps chasing an answer to some deep question. Maybe we are supposed to be productive with every second or get something positive done so that we can leave our mark on this planet. But then again, when our time is up, our lives are nothing more than a second to the World we live in. Is it any wonder why there are never enough hours in a day? We pursue so many things that we don't stop to take notice of the individual seconds that go by that are meant for us to simply enjoy life.
I'd never say there is only one right way to live your life, but letting it go by without realizing the amazing things that happen every second of every day, is just wrong. And maybe not morally, but we can't truly appreciate all of the things that life provides until we can stop and look around. I mean... when was the last time you were actually alone in peace? I mean REALLY alone. No phone, no radio, no TV no sound of civilization. We are bothered by so many things that when we should be able to stop and appreciate beauty we are instead trying to fight off the demands on our time.
The old adage is simple, "Time is Money" but how many times have you seen pennies thrown about the ground because they aren't worth it or because it isn't "worth your time" to pick it up? If we are so careless with the actual currency, then how much more careless are we with the seconds we let slip by?
But after we find that noble cause, after we find what makes us tick... Then what? Who determines how we have spent our time on earth?
I don't want 15 minutes of fame... I just want 15 minutes to myself. My life is short enough already, I don't need other people spending my time for me.
I don't have any answers here, just questions. I'm freakin' tired... and every second staring at my hopeless blog is a second I could have been appreciating the beauty of sleep. G'night.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
And the Blogging Truly Begins...
Well, I guess before I post too many things that are not original, I should manage to find the time to jot down a few thoughts of my own. I'm not entirely sure why I decided to pursue the whole "blogging" (anybody wonder who named this thing and how they came up with blogging?) craze that seems to have swept the entire world. I guess I'm just glad that while all of my thoughts are open for discussion, they are entirely subjective so I can't really be judged too harshly.
Somebody very close to me asked why I used "firsthand lion" for a link while "shaken not stirred" was the title. Well, I will address the former then the latter. "Life is a journey, not a destination." While this may be a little cliché, I hold it true and would like the symbolism of how you come to my blog to be as important as the blog itself. If you have ever seen the movie Second Hand Lions (and if you haven't, you should), you will recall two men who have lived the adventurous lives that most men can only dream of. They are dangerous, they are wild and they are free. They are feared and respected, loved and adored and manage to pass their passion for life and wisdom on to a young boy who doesn't know his mother, let alone his father, and has no idea of how to become a man. John Eldridge wrote a book called Wild At Heart. In that book he says that every man has an Adventure to Live, a Battle to Fight and a Beauty to Rescue. As he is one of my favorite authors I tend to agree with him. And as I am still young, and haven't lived the whole adventure, nor fought many battles the term "Second Hand" doesn't quite apply to me. Therefore, first hand or young and restless (which was far too soapy) are more applicable. So I decided to combine the two in order to arrive at First Hand Lions, which to me, means that I am still young and wild and free with much to learn.
This brings us to “Shaken Not Stirred”. Aside from the obvious 007 reference which is just freakin' cool... There are defining moments in a person’s life that help shape who they are. And while I have experienced my fair share, I am sure that there are plenty more to come. These may cause feelings of emotional hardship, or stressful situations or even fear to some degree. But while every tree is shaken, if it is firmly rooted in its core beliefs (Wisdom, Strength and Honor are mine) then it will remain steadfast and will not be felled. Something with all 007 movies is that no matter how grim the situation, he is always calm, because he knows he is going to get out of it. He knows he has the skills and the training to succeed. On top of that he knows why he is out to accomplish the hopeless task he is assigned, for Queen and Country but most importantly for Good against Evil. Every man has the necessary skills to be a success at whatever he may pursue, it is just a matter of how they are used and in some cases having the courage to use them. But with time every man will come to a battle, and when one does come we should all have the audacity to look it in the face and say "do your worst", because we know that not only will we still be standing after the battle is waged, but we will be stronger for having fought it.
So, I will make posts of random thoughts that I may have. Or random thoughts of others. Or something that I find profound, or possibly just funny. And maybe, just maybe there will be an opportunity for us to learn something from each other. Because if I can be a help to my fellow man who is going through something that I have already fought, then why shouldn't I be of service? This isn't to say that what I say or think is always correct, far from it. I am still on this journey called life and look forward to the learning that is yet to come.
Somebody very close to me asked why I used "firsthand lion" for a link while "shaken not stirred" was the title. Well, I will address the former then the latter. "Life is a journey, not a destination." While this may be a little cliché, I hold it true and would like the symbolism of how you come to my blog to be as important as the blog itself. If you have ever seen the movie Second Hand Lions (and if you haven't, you should), you will recall two men who have lived the adventurous lives that most men can only dream of. They are dangerous, they are wild and they are free. They are feared and respected, loved and adored and manage to pass their passion for life and wisdom on to a young boy who doesn't know his mother, let alone his father, and has no idea of how to become a man. John Eldridge wrote a book called Wild At Heart. In that book he says that every man has an Adventure to Live, a Battle to Fight and a Beauty to Rescue. As he is one of my favorite authors I tend to agree with him. And as I am still young, and haven't lived the whole adventure, nor fought many battles the term "Second Hand" doesn't quite apply to me. Therefore, first hand or young and restless (which was far too soapy) are more applicable. So I decided to combine the two in order to arrive at First Hand Lions, which to me, means that I am still young and wild and free with much to learn.
This brings us to “Shaken Not Stirred”. Aside from the obvious 007 reference which is just freakin' cool... There are defining moments in a person’s life that help shape who they are. And while I have experienced my fair share, I am sure that there are plenty more to come. These may cause feelings of emotional hardship, or stressful situations or even fear to some degree. But while every tree is shaken, if it is firmly rooted in its core beliefs (Wisdom, Strength and Honor are mine) then it will remain steadfast and will not be felled. Something with all 007 movies is that no matter how grim the situation, he is always calm, because he knows he is going to get out of it. He knows he has the skills and the training to succeed. On top of that he knows why he is out to accomplish the hopeless task he is assigned, for Queen and Country but most importantly for Good against Evil. Every man has the necessary skills to be a success at whatever he may pursue, it is just a matter of how they are used and in some cases having the courage to use them. But with time every man will come to a battle, and when one does come we should all have the audacity to look it in the face and say "do your worst", because we know that not only will we still be standing after the battle is waged, but we will be stronger for having fought it.
So, I will make posts of random thoughts that I may have. Or random thoughts of others. Or something that I find profound, or possibly just funny. And maybe, just maybe there will be an opportunity for us to learn something from each other. Because if I can be a help to my fellow man who is going through something that I have already fought, then why shouldn't I be of service? This isn't to say that what I say or think is always correct, far from it. I am still on this journey called life and look forward to the learning that is yet to come.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
In election 2008, don’t forget Angry White Man
Gary Hubbell
February 9, 2008
There is a great amount of interest in this year's presidential elections, as everybody seems to recognize that our next president has to be a lot better than George Bush. The Democrats are riding high with two groundbreaking candidates — a woman and an African-American — while the conservative Republicans are in a quandary about their party's nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John McCain.
Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and transgender people to children of illegal immigrants to working mothers to evangelical Christians.
There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the group that will decide the election: the Angry White Man. The Angry White Man comes from all economic backgrounds, from dirt-poor to filthy rich. He represents all geographic areas in America, from urban sophisticate to rural redneck, deep South to mountain West, left Coast to Eastern Seaboard.
His common traits are that he isn't looking for anything from anyone — just the promise to be able to make his own way on a level playing field. In many cases, he is an independent businessman and employs several people. He pays more than his share of taxes and works hard.
The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — "disenfranchised," "marginalized" and "voiceless" — don't resonate with him. "Press 'one' for English" is a curse-word to him. He's used to picking up the tab, whether it's the company Christmas party, three sets of braces, three college educations or a beautiful wedding.
He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally, not as a "living document" open to the whims and vagaries of a panel of judges who have never worked an honest day in their lives.
The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he's willing to pick up a gun to defend his home and his country. He is willing to lay down his life to defend the freedom and safety of others, and the thought of killing someone who needs killing really doesn't bother him.
The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a victim. Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too helpless and stupid to help themselves, often as a police officer, a National Guard soldier or a volunteer firefighter.
His last name and religion don't matter. His background might be Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or Russian, and he might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto Rican mixed in, but he considers himself a white American.
He's a man's man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker, watch football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play golf, spend a few bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon, change his own oil and build things. He coaches baseball, soccer and football teams and doesn't ask for a penny. He's the kind of guy who can put an addition on his house with a couple of friends, drill an oil well, weld a new bumper for his truck, design a factory and publish books. He can fill a train with 100,000 tons of coal and get it to the power plant on time so that you keep the lights on and never know what it took to flip that light switch.
Women either love him or hate him, but they know he's a man, not a dishrag. If they're looking for someone to walk all over, they've got the wrong guy. He stands up straight, opens doors for women and says "Yes, sir" and "No, ma'am."
He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he might be a Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is more emotional than rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner.
He's not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when people of certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies the worst stereotypes of their race. He's willing to give everybody a fair chance if they work hard, play by the rules and learn English.
Most important, the Angry White Man is pissed off. When his job site becomes flooded with illegal workers who don't pay taxes and his wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job gets shipped overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading some rally for reparations for slavery or some such nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child gets charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a penknife to school, he takes note of who the local idiots are in education and law enforcement.
He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton. Her voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock. He recoils at the mere sight of her on television. Her very image disgusts him, and he cannot fathom why anyone would want her as their leader. It's not that she is a woman. It's that she is who she is. It's the liberal victim groups she panders to, the "poor me" attitude that she represents, her inability to give a straight answer to an honest question, his tax dollars that she wants to give to people who refuse to do anything for themselves.
There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million Angry White Men are members of the National Rifle Association, and all of them will vote against Hillary Clinton, just as the great majority of them voted for George Bush.
He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for president in 2008, and he will make sure that she gets beaten like a drum.
Gary Hubbell is a regular columnist with the Aspen Times Weekly.
February 9, 2008
There is a great amount of interest in this year's presidential elections, as everybody seems to recognize that our next president has to be a lot better than George Bush. The Democrats are riding high with two groundbreaking candidates — a woman and an African-American — while the conservative Republicans are in a quandary about their party's nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John McCain.
Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and transgender people to children of illegal immigrants to working mothers to evangelical Christians.
There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the group that will decide the election: the Angry White Man. The Angry White Man comes from all economic backgrounds, from dirt-poor to filthy rich. He represents all geographic areas in America, from urban sophisticate to rural redneck, deep South to mountain West, left Coast to Eastern Seaboard.
His common traits are that he isn't looking for anything from anyone — just the promise to be able to make his own way on a level playing field. In many cases, he is an independent businessman and employs several people. He pays more than his share of taxes and works hard.
The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — "disenfranchised," "marginalized" and "voiceless" — don't resonate with him. "Press 'one' for English" is a curse-word to him. He's used to picking up the tab, whether it's the company Christmas party, three sets of braces, three college educations or a beautiful wedding.
He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally, not as a "living document" open to the whims and vagaries of a panel of judges who have never worked an honest day in their lives.
The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he's willing to pick up a gun to defend his home and his country. He is willing to lay down his life to defend the freedom and safety of others, and the thought of killing someone who needs killing really doesn't bother him.
The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a victim. Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too helpless and stupid to help themselves, often as a police officer, a National Guard soldier or a volunteer firefighter.
His last name and religion don't matter. His background might be Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or Russian, and he might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto Rican mixed in, but he considers himself a white American.
He's a man's man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker, watch football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play golf, spend a few bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon, change his own oil and build things. He coaches baseball, soccer and football teams and doesn't ask for a penny. He's the kind of guy who can put an addition on his house with a couple of friends, drill an oil well, weld a new bumper for his truck, design a factory and publish books. He can fill a train with 100,000 tons of coal and get it to the power plant on time so that you keep the lights on and never know what it took to flip that light switch.
Women either love him or hate him, but they know he's a man, not a dishrag. If they're looking for someone to walk all over, they've got the wrong guy. He stands up straight, opens doors for women and says "Yes, sir" and "No, ma'am."
He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he might be a Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is more emotional than rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner.
He's not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when people of certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies the worst stereotypes of their race. He's willing to give everybody a fair chance if they work hard, play by the rules and learn English.
Most important, the Angry White Man is pissed off. When his job site becomes flooded with illegal workers who don't pay taxes and his wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job gets shipped overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading some rally for reparations for slavery or some such nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child gets charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a penknife to school, he takes note of who the local idiots are in education and law enforcement.
He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton. Her voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock. He recoils at the mere sight of her on television. Her very image disgusts him, and he cannot fathom why anyone would want her as their leader. It's not that she is a woman. It's that she is who she is. It's the liberal victim groups she panders to, the "poor me" attitude that she represents, her inability to give a straight answer to an honest question, his tax dollars that she wants to give to people who refuse to do anything for themselves.
There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million Angry White Men are members of the National Rifle Association, and all of them will vote against Hillary Clinton, just as the great majority of them voted for George Bush.
He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for president in 2008, and he will make sure that she gets beaten like a drum.
Gary Hubbell is a regular columnist with the Aspen Times Weekly.
The Death of Common Sense
Obituary of the late Mr. Common Sense:
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; Why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and, Maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 -year- old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers: I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and, I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; Why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and, Maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 -year- old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers: I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and, I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
A solution to Gasoline worries...
George Carlin's Solution to Save Gasoline:
President Bush wants us to cut the amount of gas we use. The best way to stop Using so much gas is to deport 11 million illegal immigrants! That would be 11 million less people using our gas. The price of gas would come down. Bring our troops home from Iraq to guard the border. When they catch an illegal immigrant crossing the border, hand him a canteen, rifle and some ammo and ship him to Iraq. Tell him if he wants to come to America then he must serve a tour in the military. Give him a soldier's pay while he's there and tax him on it.
After his tour, he will be allowed to become a citizen since he defended this country. He will also be registered to be taxed and be a legal patriot. This option will probably deter illegal immigration and provide a solution for the troops in Iraq and the aliens trying to make a better life for themselves. If they refuse to serve, ship them to Iraq anyway, without the canteen, rifle or ammo.Problem solved.
President Bush wants us to cut the amount of gas we use. The best way to stop Using so much gas is to deport 11 million illegal immigrants! That would be 11 million less people using our gas. The price of gas would come down. Bring our troops home from Iraq to guard the border. When they catch an illegal immigrant crossing the border, hand him a canteen, rifle and some ammo and ship him to Iraq. Tell him if he wants to come to America then he must serve a tour in the military. Give him a soldier's pay while he's there and tax him on it.
After his tour, he will be allowed to become a citizen since he defended this country. He will also be registered to be taxed and be a legal patriot. This option will probably deter illegal immigration and provide a solution for the troops in Iraq and the aliens trying to make a better life for themselves. If they refuse to serve, ship them to Iraq anyway, without the canteen, rifle or ammo.Problem solved.
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