Enjoy the ride

Flying is not in my every day life. The last time I was in an airplane was in 1975. I don't intentionally avoid being in the air, it's just not a necessity for me as far as traveling is concerned. Mostly because when I go on a trip, the trip is part of the fun. This state of Michigan is beautiful and the rest of the United States is filled with amazing sights at every turn of the road and I don't want to miss a thing. The journey, in most cases, is just as important as the destination. Expressways offer a less intimate examination of the countryside but still has a lot to offer in my eyes at least. My folks worked hard all their lives and usually the work week was six or even seven days of manual labor. They made it all worth while with that Sunday afternoon drive to wherever the nose of the car took them. Being one of their kids was my utmost pleasure and introduction to daily adventure and enjoyment of literally anything in sight.

This morning, on the way in to work it was dark. What's to see in the dark? Lately it's those frisky rabbits for sure. Also, the lights playing off the rain soaked landscape, other vehicles and even te hood of my truck. A slim line of light indicating the approaching sunrise, albeit shrouded by rain clouds. A deer momentarily stopping as it is mesmerized by my headlights as I turn into the parking lot. And the skunk, lucky for me, scurrying off after visiting the neighbors trash bin.

It's the journey that takes the time. The arrival at the destination is ove in an instant. I may as well make the journey pleasant. Right? Besides, there is no Spring Break for me so I better make the best of what I've got. Its worked so far. Happy Spring Break to you!

World Cup and the Vuvuzela

The vuvuzela is an instrument of God. That agonizingly noisy horn that is constantly being blown at the World Cup soccer matches is a reminder of the sacrifices, trials and tribulations of the African people over the centuries. According to Tinyko Maluleke speaking at an international ecumenical meeting. I'm glad I found out about that. The constant bleating has certainly lowered my enjoyment of the games as well as my ability to understand what is being said by the moderators. To the point of interfering with the game itself. Actually the disturbing noise has caused me to totally withdraw from watching the soccer matches whatsoever. I mean no disrespect to the horn blowers and the statement they need to make to the rest of the world. If that's what they need to do then I respect their right to do that in their country. However, I as a visitor in hopes of true enjoyment of competition between the best of the best choose to not submit myself to the never ending barrage of annoyance and take advantage of my channel changing expertise and move on to some other type of entertainment. Baseball, Nascar, Dragracing, and the food channel come to mind.

Bearing in mind that I completely respect a person's right to demonstrate against oppression, I fail to see the oppressive nature of being allowed to host an international event of such far reaching proportions. That's not my idea of a welcoming attitude. If I invite someone to my house I bend over backwards to show them that I appreciate their company. If they would be spending money for which I would receive a benefit I would darn well put my best foot forward in order to reap the harvest and expect them to return again wouldn't you? I particularly would avoid annoying my visitors every moment of the day and night.

I am not a world traveler. I will not, in this life be visiting South Africa in person. It matters not to me when, how, or where they blow their own horns. It's no skin off my nose. But, thanks to the miracle of television I am put in the position of learning more about that country. Thanks to the vuvuzela I will not be learning as much as I'd hoped to and I'll be turning my TV back to the good old reliable golf channel. Thank you very much. I guess this will be one more world cup I'll be reading about instead of watching............................Joe

The hermit, the cave, the smell

During my hike around Lake Michigan I met a lot of interesting people, one of which was a sort of hermit I guess you'd call him. Sometimes I wonder if he may still be living in his cave. Yes, when I came across him many years ago he had definitely set up housekeeping in a small cave overlooking a creek that flowed into Lake Michigan just a little south of the Mackinaw bridge. I ran across him while walking up the creek looking for something to eat. He had built a doorway from wooden sticks, clay and straw blocks and what appeared to be rabbit skins as a roof. Quite ingenious really, I thought. I declined his invitation to stay and visit for a few days for two reasons: number one is I had made my policy to not sleep in any structure and secondly, his cave stunk. I mean it wreaked of just what I don't know. But I can tell you that just standing in the doorway my eyes and nose hurt from the stench. At the time my goal was to complete my walk around the lake. not to visit with everyone I bumped into, no matter how interesting they were. Today is a different story. I am really curious as to why he lived in a cave, how long did he live there, why did he choose that area, what did he do to support himself, and most of all, how could he stand the odor? I can still remember and sense that awful, pungent, almost suffocating odor.

Walking through a store last week I stopped to look over a new tool displayed on a center aisle table. I like new tools. Picking up the tool, I turned it around in my hands to see how it worked and what useful functions it may have. While I was engrossed in this new multi tasking tool, imagining myself building lots of new stuff in my basement, my nose started to twitch and itch. My eyes began to tear up and sting. My mind flashed back to long ago when I first poked my head into that cave. It startled me and I looked around to find the source of that familiar yet terribly offensive smell. there were several people milling around and walking away from the tool display. I didn't see anyone that looked particularly dirty or hermit like. I also didn't notice anyone else searching for a source of any odor. No one smelling each other. In a minute or two the odor dissipated as far as I could tell. Apparently I was the only one that noticed it but then again maybe no one else wanted to acknowledge it either. After all, it was strong enough to maybe be considered as some type of biological terrorism in today's society.

It did make me wonder if that guy still lived in his cave up north, or has he moved into a store somewhere in Central Michigan that is open 24 hours?

Cancer and people

Today is one of the days I've set aside for those people and their families involved with cancer and other critical diseases. If you haven't been affected by one of them I would be surprised. Sometimes the pain is so great that we avoid talking about it. That's a shame. Admitting the pain and difficulties involved is part of the healing process.

One of my heroes is a guy that had inoperable brain cancer. His way of dealing with it was buying a sailboat and sailing around the world and visit as many tropical islands as he could. living off the local food and fauna. I haven't heard from him since. he was so grateful he found out in time to go off and realize his dream. Another is a guy diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer. He was an active, grab life by the horns type of guy, surfer, sky diver, avid skier, mountain climber and hiker all his life. After his initial diagnosis and treatments he stopped by to visit. Full of stories and jokes it took him almost two hours to tell me what was going on. Then he took off his hat and showed me his bald head. His long, flowing, curly, blond, surfer locks were gone. He grinned and said it was beginning to grow back. I felt immediate sadness. He dispelled a lot of it by explaining what he intended to do. During his treatment he saved up a lot of the pain medication and he also had a stash of "medicinal" stuff of some kind. He was leaving that day to go on a long vacation by train across the United States. Stopping spontaneously wherever he wished and ski, climb a mountain, surf or whatever tripped his trigger at that moment. I haven't heard from him either. Another acquaintance had ALS and rode across the old Route 66 with a bunch of car guys in a caravan of Corvettes. Another dream come true. A minister with the same situation lived a year as Jesus did. Doing without many common amenities. We all have our own opinion of what is important.

I've visited many other every day heroes too. Most have overcome what ever they faced and gone on to many more years of life. Others didn't fare so well and I've held their hand while they slipped away. We all have our way of handling such matters. I do know this; Friends and family can make all the difference when it comes to comfort and support. It's a good thing to remember. For them, and us don't you think?...............Joe