Sunday, April 24, 2016

Relativity of Time

The phrase that time is relative has never escaped me. I always knew that as a young man that time was the here and now. The book for my generation that was the rage was "Be Here Now," by Ram Dass. It reverberated with the message of the times. You know all the Sha-la-la-la live for todayer's. I was one of them. You guessed it a hippie. Of course I had long hair and a beard. My little sister was kind enough to put my hair into tight braids, so that when I took them out it made my hair frizz out and it looked good with my big gold ring in my ear. Yep! That was me the cool cat, or at least I thought I was in my mind. After all, I watched Doby Gillis and thought Maynard G. Grebbs was cool. I may have even bought a set of bongo's. However I learned early in my life that I have no rhythm and I can't carry a tune. Except for my brief try at chorus in eighth grade. (My friend Michael Metti convinced me to try out. I actually made chorus, but my sisters laughed at me and I decided to quit. Just like my engagement to Mary Corona, when I was five years old. I bought her a ring, gave it to her because she was the absolute love of my life. Again my sister's made fun of me, so I remember asking her for the ring back. God Rest her soul as she has passed away.) The Hippie movement was right on time for my friends and I. The signs were all there and it was exciting. Looking back on the times I am still amazed and surprised about how unaware our parents and the police were concerning the times and the drug scene. I remember a hippie jeweler in town who had a small three bedroom house and he painted it the color of the rainbow, and put large bubble windows in place of the traditional ones. When you walked into the store he had completely covered the inside walls with broken pieces of mirrors in every room and had large display cases with all his wares. He burned incense and had black lights everywhere with brightly colored T-shirts for sale. Even I thought it was slightly bizarre for 1968. However, neither the police, nor our parents ever voiced any concern about the house, even though it was a major source of marijuana and hashish. Good times, where you could charge your purchases on your credit card and be styling. I suppose that it was a real sign of the times. Every one I am sure has many stories like that. People just didn't catch on or if they did they really did not care.

    Fortunately for me, I was the first year of the draft lottery for the Vietnam war. They were taking everyone with numbers 210 and lower. My number was 242. Free bird! I am sorry for all the young men who went to Vietnam, many did not come back or they did in body but not mind and spirit. It was my good fortune to go skiing and not to war. I remember thinking what a very lucky group of men my friends and I were. We all worked in our family business's or in local jobs and were free to take long ski vacations, In my case, and Captain Zooms, Touloose, and Creme-Kings we all were able to go and live in ski town's like Aspen, Vail, in Colorado, Brighton in Utah, Jackson Hole in Wyoming. It started out by skiing weekends, then week days, until we realized we could ski every day if we became bona-fide ski bum's. Every mother's night mare, a son or daughter with out a real career, drifting through life like the snows of winter. I remember my first winter at Arapahoe Basin, as beautiful as it was every one was talking about Grand Targhee, in Wyoming that was the first and last mountain to get snow. It was addicting, the freedom I mean. Get up every day and turn your boards until you were exhausted. Work where ever and when ever you could. It was a freedom that captured my heart and soul and I guess that is why I have always wanted to write about it. To explain why we all ran way, we were in a way a lost generation. I believe that I found myself in the running away. Subsequently each and every one of us did. I really want to follow the lives of the people I knew at Arapahoe Basin, and where they went and what they did with their lives after leaving.

   The mountain changed us all and touched us all in it's own way and we all found our individual truths that we were searching for. All in a winter's tale. We all moved on but we shared a special time in a special place with a group full of searchers. Sometimes I think I almost know what it is I want to say. These day's it is more pressing and wanting to come more as my time has been put into perspective. I always thought I had all the time in the world to write what I needed to write. Having been diagnosed with Cancer, (a non lethal form of skin cancer, that will require another unpleasant surgery, and six weeks of radiation therapy,) has put my time into perspective. Write, hell yeah, as often and as long as I am able. I suppose that when I look back at my life in my old age to come and Thank God! for the wake up call and the time that I was able to spend writing in my future life, I will say it was my singular greatest turning point and inspiration to pursue the dream I have always held so close to my heart. Time is relative! I'm sure that even Prince would love to have a little more time. No one ever thinks they are going to run out of it. Guess what? I have had my moment with time the past few weeks. My future is a little less certain. Time a little more relevant than it ever has been in my life. The future is mine to create..

   Thank you for your love and support Katarina.

   I would often listen to this first song when I was working out at the Athletic Club in Colonie and taking writing classes at Union College. It would help me to focus on my dreams of writing and forget the reality of living in a city. I remember how very unhappy I was in the city. I just couldn't get my act together there.

   The second song I would listen to with the artist Evelyn Wilson, we were kindred spirits in the city longing for new horizon's and distant frontiers. She liked Prince, I was not so enthusiastic. I hope she found her horizons. I found mine and a beautiful woman to share them with.

Today's Songs

"Never Surrender," Corey Heart

"Purple Rain," Prince

My little nurse and angel who has helped through my ordeal and I am sure will continue to lift my spirits through the coming battles! I can't forget her good friend "Boney".

Saturday, April 9, 2016

The Ever Changing World in Which We Live In.

 Maybe you can't understand the ever changing world if you have never had and inner Vagabond. A traveler, possessing a wayward soul. Perhaps it came from the 1960's the personal freedoms that we all dreamed about. The freedoms that were expressed in the writing and the music. I have always appeased my inner Vagabond by wandering. Never really ever settling down. Oh for a few years my wife and I have lived happily in certain areas. I think I have been the happiest in my soul with Kathleen because she is a traveling hippie also. In her youth living in a commune in Oregon, and traveling on grants with her hippie friends in renovated buses have made her exploits dear to my wandering heart and soul. Our lives have spanned Ski Towns, to Ocean Beaches, and the Boom and recently the Bust Towns of Colorado. Our current Home in Grand Junction, Colorado is certainly one to have pride in. It has a lovely healing massage room that is completely separate from our living space where we can listen to beautiful healing music while working on one another. It has kept us young and vibrant. I suppose as young and vibrant as 60 year olds can be who get regular body work.

   This home, we agreed after bringing the last remaining member of our Equine Massage School Ranch, our baby Golden, Gracie to rest here, was to be the one. The big retirement one. It wasn't at the beach, yet it was affordable for our retirement purposes. Blessed with a lovely dining room for entertaining and a wonderful separate office space for each of us and a ( I deplore the term, )Man Cave Garage for me, this house has it all. Well not exactly, you see or rather don't see the sea. I overheard Kathy talking to her girlfriend this evening saying, "All I really want to do is walk on the beach!" I guess I would like to add to that sentiment, "Walk on the beach with Kathy, and Piper our poodle, and write." We have recently renewed our interest in her novel Appaloosa Lake that stalled out at the love scene in the Lake. The healing waters of Appaloosa Lake where for generations the young Appaloosa's have been taken to be trained in the healing sulphur water of the Lake, Ah what to do about Abbey in the Lake and the arrival of Joseph, Flora's dark gorgeous son. Yes Vagabonds all of us.

   Life does change. I will survive my minor battle with skin cancer and some invasive surgery and come out relatively unscathed on the other side. Although I really seem to care more about completing the novel of Appaloosa Lake and the ensuing screen play and walking on the Beach with Kathleen and my little Pi than I do to finish out my career in my beautiful home nestled in the Grand Valley of Colorado.

   I suppose if I were writing the scenes of our lives, I might write in Capitals, Beach Scene: Enter Happy Travelers! The thing about Vagabonds. You never know what they will decide to do next. Both Kathy and I have revived our Motor Home/ Bus Beach dream and one never knows what a True Vagabond will do. By the way, Appaloosa Lake is a Great Story!

Today's Song; "Over The Hills And Far Away," Led Zeppellin