99 Word Blog (#030) Aired TV vs. Cable / Dish

For the past two+ years, rival cable and dish TV providers have been relentlessly vying for my biz… trying to entice me with initially low monthly rates… which will eventually increase like metastasizing tumors.

Folks, I cannot cozy up to ponying up. I prefer “free” over the airwaves TV. True… I pay, indirectly, whenever purchasing TV sponsors’ products / services, but that’s beside the point.

My real gripe is how these abovementioned corporations are damaging the environment by snail mailing me tons of totally unwanted letters. Yes, I recycle… but once energy is wasted… there’s no getting it back.

99 Word Blog (#029) Sarah, Get Well Soon!

The distance between Sarah Palin’s political ideology and mine is measured in light-years. Were we to debate, we might find agreement about the weather. Beyond that, we’d have to agree to disagree.

I’ve blogged about her in a politically unflattering manner at my previous blogging “homes”… but not @WordPress. However, it’d be heartless to do so now. Why?

Because Palin recently stumbled, tumbled and sustained nasty, albeit non life-threatening head injuries. Even so, any trauma, particularly a crack to the cranium, does call for caution while convalescing.

Sarah, to bloggers of all political stripes, you’re unique. Get well soon!

 

Life’s Sounds, Sights & Scents

Not too long ago, slow loading websites involved a time-out… mine. I stood up from behind my desk for a much-needed stretch… accompanied by my inevitable yawn and barely audible, exhaled “ahh”. While feeling the comforting, shifting of my vertebrae, I realized it was time to detangle myself from “The Web”.

Wandering over to my window, I immediately noticed the dazzling rays of dawn’s early sunlight… how those beams were causing a dew dropped, flowering shrub to sparkle and glisten. Truly a lovely sight to behold all in itself… but that was merely Ma Nature’s warm up act.

As Her next scene opened… a hovering hummingbird appeared center stage… flitting from blossom to blossom… gathering the nectar for her morning repast. I marveled at her delicate features and diminutive physique… the blur and subtle whirring of her wings.

This feathered aviatrix had reopened my eyes… reminded me how admiring natural wonders isn’t really all that new to me. She inspired my poem to showcase Ma Nature’s grand performances… the very sounds, sights and scents, which have meant so much to me throughout my life.

A wealth of Ma Nature’s sounds, sights and scents is there for everyone’s enjoyment… all free for the taking. Try not to be too busy to notice these wonders… many are easily drowned out by our manmade din… rapidly disappear in the blink of an eye… speedily disperse into thin air.

 

Sounds…

Chipmunks chirp out bird impressions,

Paired morning doves coo love professions.

Geese honk and fly V-shaped arrays,

Ducks quack out, float communiqués.

Birds’ dawn-dusk venues, woods, treed streets,

Orchestral movements, caws, peeps, tweets.

 

Birdcalls, babbling brooks, blend, mix,

To flower blooms, buzzed bees affix.

One-chord cricket songs, serene,

June beetles ping, each widow’s screen.

Winds rustle tree leaves, clinging vines,

Make whooshing sounds, through stately pines.

 

Each thunder rumble, boom, clap, crash,

Downpours pool, the raindrops splash,

Fall, winter gales, numb summer heat,

Fallen leaves, snows crunch, beneath our feet.

Dusk’s shadows descend, still the land,

Night’s embracing hush, doth chill, expand.

 

Sights…

The pallet of sunrise, boasts a blended hue,

Glistens spider spun webs, all beaded in dew.

Hopping rabbits drop by, feast on lush green clover,

Swallowtails, Monarchs flit, both float by, fly over.

Red-orange-yellow sunsets, become dusky skies,

Next, luminesced flickers, pale glows, fireflies.

 

Night’s lightening doth fork, cloud-to-cloud, sky-to-ground,

Bolts strike where they please, to startle, astound.

But not to be outdone, daylight’s adlib show,

Presents a full spectrum, ROY G. BIV’s arced rainbow.

Ma Nature paints leaves, Her full-time fall showing,

Feathered flakiness next, Her wintertime snowing.

 

Connect the dots patterns, grace our starlit skies,

Orion’s Nebula, Pleiades, please our naked eyes,

As do the five planets, grouped, at times, two or more,

Clouds dance with the Moon, in phases all four.

Scopes enlarge Lunar craters, the Martian icecap,

Moons of huge Jupiter, Saturn’s Cassini ringed gap.

 

Scents…

Freshly mown grass, frees-up nose friendly fumes,

As doth month of May’s bouquet, of lilacs’ full blooms.

Summertime rainstorms, doth freshen our air,

Lightning sparks scented ozone, to aid in skincare.

Also pleasing, as well, is sea saltwater spray,

The shady woods’ earthiness, as we walk life’s pathway.

99 Word Blog (#028) “Just Following Orders”

“JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS.”

That phrase fabricates the lamest, flimsiest excuse ever uttered by war criminals found up and down the military chain of command.

“Just” following scramble-brains Hitler’s orders unleashed the Holocaust… the slaughter of six million innocent Jewish people… bombed beyond recognition European real estate and infrastructure.

“Just” following sociopath GW Bush’s orders resulted in a latter-day Holocaust… one million innocent Muslims annihilated… and still counting. W’s trumped up war laid waste to Mesopotamia… the cradle of civilization.

What would happen if troops were “Just” following delusional Donald Trump’s mucked up orders? How many more millions would die?

To Boldly Go… To Proxima Centauri

Last Wednesday, astronomers announced the existence of a planet closely orbiting the red dwarf star Proxima Centauri. Normally we’d deem that short star to planet distance too close for human comfort but, since the heat output from red dwarfs is much less, this new world, “Proxima b” does reside well within the habitable “Goldilocks” zone.

Even better, educated guessers claim this exoplanet could have terrestrial type surface features… inclusive of liquid water. And, saving the very best for last, this newfound solar system is an astronomical “stones throw”, a “mere” 4.2 light-years (25 trillion miles) away from Earth.

For many of us, who’ve been around long enough, this is a literal fantasy come true.

You see, fifty Septembers ago, CBS launched the weekly Sci-Fi TV series, Lost In Space… the story of the Robinson family (John and Maureen and their teen daughters Judy and Penny and preteen son Will). Maj. West is their pilot… just in case the computerized navigation system crashes.

After these six astronauts are cryogenically frozen into suspended animation, the fully automated, flying saucer shaped Jupiter 2 blasts off… and they embark on their interstellar journey. Their goal is to colonize a planet orbiting Alpha Centauri (which, btw, may or may not be gravitationally bound to Proxima Centauri).

Col./ Dr. Zachary Smith portrays the villainous saboteur who, prelaunch, reprograms the ship’s robot to destroy the spaceship 8 hours into the mission. His bad karma catches up with him when he gets trapped aboard the ship during the final 10 seconds of the countdown. Eventually he has to deal, first hand, with “his” running amok robot. The critically meteor and robot damaged Jupiter 2 then crash lands on an unknown planet… the 7 shipwrecked spacefarers fighting, daily, to stay alive.

The Wednesday evening this Sci-Fi program debuted (09/15/1965), I was 11 years old… a boy totally geeked about the real life NASA space program. However, at that point, not all was going well in my life. I was being relentlessly, verbally and physically assaulted by playground and neighborhood bullies.

To be sure, Lost In Space did afford this long ago, lost in life kid the very escapism he had so desperately needed. Even better, character William Robinson was also an 11 year old. I could readily identify with him because we were both living on hostile planets and constantly facing down monsters… his world and creatures the alien variety… mine terrestrial.

Returning to the here and now…

One component of today’s reality is our compelling thoughts that humankind could someday visit and explore Proxima Centauri’s potentially earth-like planet.

The other component is that terrestrial monsters and bullies (in particular, political sociopaths and narcissists) do continue to exist and they’re rapidly bringing our troubled world to the brink of self-destruction.

All things considered, it would not be too soon for us to start planning some real-time, real-life escapism… to construct an actual, space-worthy Jupiter 2… to select a handful of humans who, as interstellar astronauts, could easily wind up becoming not only colonists of “Proxima b”, but also the soul survivors of planet Earth.

Twenty-Three Skidoo

 

Long, long ago, three score and eight,

Vows exchange, this august date,

Two as one, life’s stream they’ll steer,

Had they not, I’d not be here.

 

Six summers pass, warm weather wanes,

Conceiving notions, ardor reigns,

Two twenty-threes, add and adhere,

Had they not, I’d not appear.

 

The pool of life, is full and rich,

To not take plunge, one digs one’s ditch,

To warm the bench, in life’s big game,

Means I won’t pass on, family’s name.

 

Life’s truths like these, it bears repeating,

Fail to fulfill, means a fate fleeting,

My twenty-threes, doomed to expire,

To nothingness, I’ll soon retire.

 

Life cycle’s acme, not transcended,

My oblivion, to be bookended,

I once was nothing, in this sphere,

One of these days, I’ll not be here.

 

99 Word Blog (#027) Un-Presidential Limericks

 

Madman Trump’s rants and raves will not stop,

He’s full of flip-flop, Flip-Flop, more FLIP-FLOP,

Offensive flips he doth say,

Oft are flops the same day,

His point of view’s based upon the backdrop.

 

Well-heeled Trump ain’t worth one damned plug nickel,

Far right views are wrong and he is fickle,

Folks who aid and abet,

Will feel buyer’s regret,

If Trump wins, we’ll lose, be in a pickle.

 

Trump preaches views unorthodox,

From his pulpit he socks, shocks his flocks,

Is he too hard? Too soft?

Too hot? Too cold oft?

His freaky fans must feel like Goldilocks.

 

 

Four-Play (Week #10) (Pop/Rock Waltzes)

Welcome to my tenth Internet Blogcast… one where we’ll deconstruct music a bit more than I normally do. But… not to worry, my readers / listeners… advanced musicology degrees are not required. Everything will be as easy as repeatedly counting out 1 – 2 – 3… 1 – 2 – 3… 1 – 2 – 3…

Indeed, songs with ¾ time signatures, latter day waltzes, are this week’s Four Play focus.

Again… not to worry… having two left feet on the dance floor will still present no barrier to enjoying these tracks. As one who’s not called a lefty based solely on my politics, trust me when I say, it’s totally cool for us to be tapping our toes while seated on the sidelines.

All kidding aside, it’s intriguing how days of yore ballroom dancers (of the 18th century onward), if they were to materialize into the here and now, could easily waltz to the songs titled: Mr. Bojangles… How Can I Be Sure… Disney Girls… and Manic Depression.

Since these musical masterpieces are all fully capable of speaking for themselves… that’s my cue to shut up and deliver the goods… well… except for my performing some routine, blogcast housekeeping duties…

For starters… the video title to Manic Depression, below, is a link to a more electrified, Karaoke version.

Additionally… while few DJs can please all the people all the time, I do encourage you, my listeners, to be musically adventurous… marching in lockstep is nowhere near as fun as (literally and figuratively) dancing to the beat of a different drummer.

“Still not my ‘cup of tea,’” you say? Not to worry. With 3 more blogcasts still remaining in my blog experiment’s 13 week run… you never can tell what you’ll be hearing seven days from now.

For any of you who may’ve missed past posted programs and/or would like to give ‘em a listen again, everything is neatly archived in my music category.

Blog response will be akin to Arbitron / Nielsen “radio ratings”… so… if you’ve enjoyed what you’ve heard, click that “Like” Star. Of course, comments (as well as song requests) are always welcome, too!

 

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band ~ Mr. Bojangles

Young Rascals ~ How Can I Be Sure

Beach Boys ~ Disney Girls

Diversus Guitar Ensemble ~ Manic Depression (Jimi Hendrix Cover)

 

 

99 Word Blog (#026) Poetic Justice Rules?

What if the 2016 elections involve a crisis reminiscent of Gore vs. Bush? Let’s say lower courts permit Hillary Clinton’s ballot recount and Donald Trump appeals upward to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Due to Antonin Scalia’s death, the remaining eight ideologically deadlocked judges would be unable to decide… meaning Clinton’s lower court victory would stand.

If her recount then made her POTUS, the Republicans, who’ve blocked President Obama’s attempt to appoint Scalia’s successor, would have only themselves to blame!

A clear-cut case decided by Poetic Justice!

Would Obama’s appointee have ruled pro-Hillary, anyway? Well, that’s something we’ll never, ever know.

 

99 Word Blog (#025) Burkini Ban Banned

 

The League of Human Rights petitioned the French Court to ban the burkini ban because it contravenes civil liberties and upsets Muslims and feminists.

The Conseil d’Etat agreed to suspend this discriminatory law… however smaller minds could yet prevail to reverse this decision.

In that event, millions of rational folks, inclusive of moi, will want to know, exactly, how anything expressed in my limerick, below, makes France any safer.

 

The nude beach patrol cops from France, Nice,

Enforce dress codes that disturb the peace,

Muslim women feel stress,

When they’re told to undress,

By the gun wielding fashion police!