Friends: The Fires of Passion
"Oh Yes, Life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone...". John Cougar Mellencamp, Jack and Diane
These lines open up a pretty big subject, and they remind me of an old adage: "As we age, we don't change; we just become more 'so'."
A comment recently by Dr. Jim Phillips, a Macon Escapee and Friday Forum Regular, got me to thinking about some things: He said, "Bud, I can't figure out why you and Renn put on these lunches." I'm sure some of you have had the same thoughts. I concluded that it all came down to passion and action.
For me, certain passions began in youth with friends, huddled around real little fires along the Spring Creek banks, on mountain tops, beaches and backyard grills, cooking up (frying, mostly!) things like bacon and eggs, potatoes, fish, burgers, dogs, steaks, BBQ, marshmallows and anything else that could be cooked outside. There were always friends around to share the experiences and food. There was life then, life without pretense….and always friends around!
But the creek-bank passions of adolescent campfires gave way to fires of Life's necessities as we left youth and proceeded into the "real" life of jobs, marriages, children and the passions required to sustain lifestyles and businesses. But Hellooooo: some of the youthful passions we had never really died for many of us, though they burned low for many years.
Slowly those things that required us to abandon the youthful fires began to drop off like last year’s leaves, and we find we are reclaiming some of our lost time. In many ways we find there is a chance to return to some sense of the freedom and simplicity of life we experienced in youth. Maybe not totally, but perhaps bit by bit...or so it seems to me. Am I dreaming? Whatever, but it sure feels good to me to push the envelop again!
The NY Times recently headlined an article about the return of retired folks to their passions of earlier times, like shop-tinkering, wood-working, fishing, golf, inventions, music, bands, art, Harleys etc. I may not be totally there, but I’m arriving soon! And you?
Passion is a True Expositor of the "real" person, I think. It exposes the ego for what it is: simply a "husk" or disguise we wear. John Wesley used to say of himself: "I am on fire, and people come to see me burn." Some folks mistake panic for passion, but it is not so….they are mutually exclusive concepts. Passion's wind blows constantly where it will, extinguishing small candle-fires; but in a mighty conflagration, that Wind stokes the still-lit fires of suppressed passions, consuming things in its path. This is passion in action.
So to Jim, and to those who silently question the "agenda" for Friday lunches, I answer you this: Renn and Bud, Chef Mike and Vanessa in this small way have found an opportunity to allow the Winds of Passion to stoke some of our smoldering fires of youth in order to add vitality to living. And, of course, we hope it adds some enthusiasm to yours as well.
The end of life is a grave...a grassed-over earthen hole sprouting small colorful plastic flowers. It's a sad reminder that we once lived. But vibrant life is found in the "Process of Living," momentary and day by day. That is why we do what we do on Fridays, and it's why you do what you do in your days.
Chief Justice Holmes, the great jurist, once remarked: "It is required of a man that he should share the passion and action of his time, at the peril of being judged not to have lived." So on Fridays, we share lunches, hoping to avoid "the peril of being judged not to have lived."
Bud
July 26, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Dog Days in Dixie
Friends:
Dog Days in Dixie
“Samson, Samson, the Philistines are upon you…..” Judges 16
Atlanta, July 19, 2007
That mangy dog, Sirius (the Dog Star), rises before dawn and precedes Ole Sol through the heavens. He is the Inflictor of this heat wave that occurs annually between July 6th – August 15th.
Atlanta seems immune to the dull Dog Days of the Coast where, I’m told, yesterday was so hot tires melted on Demere, the ocean boiled as a hot caldron and oiled sunbathers were seen writhing in agony from instantaneous combustion and fleeing the flaming beach sands. It was a sight to behold witnesses reported.
But not here in this city of gleaming new high-rise condos, where the pursuit of wealth has pre-empted the effect of Dog Days. New Millionaires are being created here by the minute, according to the news, and over 64,000 of them are now here, all cruising the streets dodging potholes in their new Bentleys, Benzs, BMWs and lesser chariots like Escalades. It also is a sight to behold …. There’s money lying in the streets, folks, and with great frenzy The Achievers are scooping it up by the bucket-full and apparently buying these luxury condos.
I almost fell for some of the slick ads and street posters advertising these soaring taj mahals of urban lifestyle myself….elderly smiling couples sipping champagne, butlers delivering tea on silver platters, young Gen Xers gazing skyward in amazement at what could be their life’s ultimate statement. It’s all a sight to behold, that’s for sure.
Of course, here the Big News is that the Falcon’s Savior, Michael Vick, has been indicted for hosting pit-bull dog fights… which seems an inhumane but novel way to pass the lethargy of Dog Days. Fights to the end, bloody, men (and perhaps their women, too) gone mad, screaming, betting, all the while the poor dogs are secured by heavy chains to car axels ---- it’s an evil enterprise, pit-bull fighting, and perhaps some similar consequence should be the justice meted out to the perpetrators. I have some novel thoughts of my own for these people!
As for me, I was stranded in a warehouse in Chamblee along with 7 other fools, sweat spurting from our pores and melting in the stifling humid heat of the place where the only moving air I could detect was from the participants…and that was hot air to be sure: My God, what a man will do for money… but none of us found any lying on the floor of that hellish place, although we were hopeful.
While no one can say for sure, I have it on Good Authority that Samson was lulled into lethargy during Dog Days and suffered mightily for it, which goes to prove there are real but unseen dangers of a heat-induced mindset. But right now I am planning my escape from the City of Temptation before the Philistines fall upon me as well!
Bud
July 19, 2007
Dog Days in Dixie
“Samson, Samson, the Philistines are upon you…..” Judges 16
Atlanta, July 19, 2007
That mangy dog, Sirius (the Dog Star), rises before dawn and precedes Ole Sol through the heavens. He is the Inflictor of this heat wave that occurs annually between July 6th – August 15th.
Atlanta seems immune to the dull Dog Days of the Coast where, I’m told, yesterday was so hot tires melted on Demere, the ocean boiled as a hot caldron and oiled sunbathers were seen writhing in agony from instantaneous combustion and fleeing the flaming beach sands. It was a sight to behold witnesses reported.
But not here in this city of gleaming new high-rise condos, where the pursuit of wealth has pre-empted the effect of Dog Days. New Millionaires are being created here by the minute, according to the news, and over 64,000 of them are now here, all cruising the streets dodging potholes in their new Bentleys, Benzs, BMWs and lesser chariots like Escalades. It also is a sight to behold …. There’s money lying in the streets, folks, and with great frenzy The Achievers are scooping it up by the bucket-full and apparently buying these luxury condos.
I almost fell for some of the slick ads and street posters advertising these soaring taj mahals of urban lifestyle myself….elderly smiling couples sipping champagne, butlers delivering tea on silver platters, young Gen Xers gazing skyward in amazement at what could be their life’s ultimate statement. It’s all a sight to behold, that’s for sure.
Of course, here the Big News is that the Falcon’s Savior, Michael Vick, has been indicted for hosting pit-bull dog fights… which seems an inhumane but novel way to pass the lethargy of Dog Days. Fights to the end, bloody, men (and perhaps their women, too) gone mad, screaming, betting, all the while the poor dogs are secured by heavy chains to car axels ---- it’s an evil enterprise, pit-bull fighting, and perhaps some similar consequence should be the justice meted out to the perpetrators. I have some novel thoughts of my own for these people!
As for me, I was stranded in a warehouse in Chamblee along with 7 other fools, sweat spurting from our pores and melting in the stifling humid heat of the place where the only moving air I could detect was from the participants…and that was hot air to be sure: My God, what a man will do for money… but none of us found any lying on the floor of that hellish place, although we were hopeful.
While no one can say for sure, I have it on Good Authority that Samson was lulled into lethargy during Dog Days and suffered mightily for it, which goes to prove there are real but unseen dangers of a heat-induced mindset. But right now I am planning my escape from the City of Temptation before the Philistines fall upon me as well!
Bud
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Esperanto....
Friends: ESPERANTO…..
Esperanto…this strange word entered my vocabulary in 1985 and has been taped to my Atlanta office desk ever since. The desk cost $125 and came in three parts. It is constructed of Chinese sawdust and glue made from wood chips, and glazed over with some white acrylic plastic laminate, dissembling itself as expensive furniture you would expect a real estate tycoon to have. The desk, while cheap, is functional, but it’s mostly flash and little substance, and it might crumble if it were ever moved again. But it looks good! The word Esperanto is taped there as a constant reminder of some important things.
The term Esperanto was concocted in 1887 by a Polish eye doctor and linguist named Ludvig Larazus Zamenhof (great name, huh?) who wrote a book, Unua Libro under the pseudonym of Doktoro Esperanto. The word literally means “one who hopes” and was intended to be a universal second language to foster peace and understanding. Imagine: Peace and Understanding among 6-plus billion people! It has simply come to mean “an artificial language.” It might have gained wider acceptance had it been a Polish joke.
We’re having a national discussion in the US now on adopting English as a National Language, all the while gobbling some daily diet of amalgamated American slang. I suspect this is a move by the current majority to establish something that might promote unity before “we” in the majority become “we” in the minority. In time, however, the national language may be some combination of SpanRap or maybe a reversion to tom toms and smoke signals.
Esperanto has been tried before. Specifically, it followed hard on the heels of the evil-hearted antediluvian crowd that was wiped out by the Flood back over there in Genesis 6. It was attempted by the post—Flood pilgrims at Babel, who spoke one language and aimed to set up a world-class building program in an area currently occupied by Dubai. Genesis 11 reminds us of the consequences of that action, and it begs question: Can floods recur in the same place? Well, it makes for interesting reading. And today, Esperanto is alive and well, though artfully disguised, by the use of 0’s and 1’s algorithmically arranged in computers. We really speak one language these days. And the propensity to be artificial, and to deceive, has taken quantum leaps through this means of Esperanto. It’s Babel redux (Babel, interestingly, is a good play on words, meaning “to confuse”).
All this to say that the word Esperanto is a constant reminder of the artifices used in today’s universal culture to disguise ourselves and the real meaning of things…how artful we’ve become in deception. And it helps me contemplate with circumspection what I hear and read.
So I keep Esperanto posted on my shiny desk, a reminder to me that what is seen is not always what it seems to be. Living in a world of subjectivity, it’s real easy to be misunderstood, and clarity in communication these days is critical to peace and understanding. So here’s to Ludvig Lazarus in his attempt at unity, and may we hope the Heavenly Observer will withhold another Babel a little while longer while we try to get it right.
Bud
July 12, 2007
Esperanto…this strange word entered my vocabulary in 1985 and has been taped to my Atlanta office desk ever since. The desk cost $125 and came in three parts. It is constructed of Chinese sawdust and glue made from wood chips, and glazed over with some white acrylic plastic laminate, dissembling itself as expensive furniture you would expect a real estate tycoon to have. The desk, while cheap, is functional, but it’s mostly flash and little substance, and it might crumble if it were ever moved again. But it looks good! The word Esperanto is taped there as a constant reminder of some important things.
The term Esperanto was concocted in 1887 by a Polish eye doctor and linguist named Ludvig Larazus Zamenhof (great name, huh?) who wrote a book, Unua Libro under the pseudonym of Doktoro Esperanto. The word literally means “one who hopes” and was intended to be a universal second language to foster peace and understanding. Imagine: Peace and Understanding among 6-plus billion people! It has simply come to mean “an artificial language.” It might have gained wider acceptance had it been a Polish joke.
We’re having a national discussion in the US now on adopting English as a National Language, all the while gobbling some daily diet of amalgamated American slang. I suspect this is a move by the current majority to establish something that might promote unity before “we” in the majority become “we” in the minority. In time, however, the national language may be some combination of SpanRap or maybe a reversion to tom toms and smoke signals.
Esperanto has been tried before. Specifically, it followed hard on the heels of the evil-hearted antediluvian crowd that was wiped out by the Flood back over there in Genesis 6. It was attempted by the post—Flood pilgrims at Babel, who spoke one language and aimed to set up a world-class building program in an area currently occupied by Dubai. Genesis 11 reminds us of the consequences of that action, and it begs question: Can floods recur in the same place? Well, it makes for interesting reading. And today, Esperanto is alive and well, though artfully disguised, by the use of 0’s and 1’s algorithmically arranged in computers. We really speak one language these days. And the propensity to be artificial, and to deceive, has taken quantum leaps through this means of Esperanto. It’s Babel redux (Babel, interestingly, is a good play on words, meaning “to confuse”).
All this to say that the word Esperanto is a constant reminder of the artifices used in today’s universal culture to disguise ourselves and the real meaning of things…how artful we’ve become in deception. And it helps me contemplate with circumspection what I hear and read.
So I keep Esperanto posted on my shiny desk, a reminder to me that what is seen is not always what it seems to be. Living in a world of subjectivity, it’s real easy to be misunderstood, and clarity in communication these days is critical to peace and understanding. So here’s to Ludvig Lazarus in his attempt at unity, and may we hope the Heavenly Observer will withhold another Babel a little while longer while we try to get it right.
Bud
July 12, 2007
Thursday, July 5, 2007
"Holding your mouth right....."
Friends: "Holding your mouth right..."
It's been a slow week for news or excitement out of the normal, and the last few days have been sorta "average." Except, perhaps, the fireworks display on Sea Island yesterday, which was pretty spectacular this year, again costing what might be a hefty down payment on a new Bentley.
Ever notice on average days there are some things we always do? For men, shaving is one. Guys, take a look tomorrow in the mirror how you hold your mouth as you whack off the whiskers. It contorts in interesting ways as the razor moves from side to side. And then try finding a part in your hair (assuming you still have some) without some facial assistance.
There's a mouth expression for about everything, like putting on your shoes or tying a tie (the nose wrinkles in this exercise and the lips go into an Elvis-like sneer--look at it closely next time!).
Then there's the heavy-lifting expression; the screw-driver intensified grimace: the "are you kidding me" mouth response to some shocking gossip; and of course the pursed, white-lips reminder from your spouse that you have again committed some stupid indiscretion.
Oh yeah, there are more, to be sure. Just observe and you'll see what I mean. My daddy used an old fishing expression that no Yankee would understand: "Son, you ain't holding your mouth right, which is why you're not getting a bite." As I got older, I forgot about that and when the biting was slow, I took it as an opportunity to just open another Bud...that always improved things.
It got me to thinking: Is there a difference between holding your mouth "right" or holding it "wrong?" Got me...
I hope for your sakes the news improves next week!
Bud
July 5, 2007
It's been a slow week for news or excitement out of the normal, and the last few days have been sorta "average." Except, perhaps, the fireworks display on Sea Island yesterday, which was pretty spectacular this year, again costing what might be a hefty down payment on a new Bentley.
Ever notice on average days there are some things we always do? For men, shaving is one. Guys, take a look tomorrow in the mirror how you hold your mouth as you whack off the whiskers. It contorts in interesting ways as the razor moves from side to side. And then try finding a part in your hair (assuming you still have some) without some facial assistance.
There's a mouth expression for about everything, like putting on your shoes or tying a tie (the nose wrinkles in this exercise and the lips go into an Elvis-like sneer--look at it closely next time!).
Then there's the heavy-lifting expression; the screw-driver intensified grimace: the "are you kidding me" mouth response to some shocking gossip; and of course the pursed, white-lips reminder from your spouse that you have again committed some stupid indiscretion.
Oh yeah, there are more, to be sure. Just observe and you'll see what I mean. My daddy used an old fishing expression that no Yankee would understand: "Son, you ain't holding your mouth right, which is why you're not getting a bite." As I got older, I forgot about that and when the biting was slow, I took it as an opportunity to just open another Bud...that always improved things.
It got me to thinking: Is there a difference between holding your mouth "right" or holding it "wrong?" Got me...
I hope for your sakes the news improves next week!
Bud
July 5, 2007
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