HALLOWEEN

I am some disappointed.  Here it is the day before Halloween and after searching the online TV guide for Halloween movies I came up with nothing except a Michael Myers marathon – and that sux.

As I have stated on other blogs I don’t believe in ghost and goblins and things that go bump in the night; but I love Halloween and movies of monsters and witches and things that represent this season. 

 

Actually, my wife and I celebrate Halloween.   Halloween for us evolved from the times of witchcraft: maidens, mothers and crones – a time when wise women practiced medicine with herbs and spells and offered hope to people in special need. 

  

Witches, if you will, were uniquely in touch with the cycles of nature, as only women can be.   Men and religions over the centuries have suppressed these connections, until today girls and women and crones do not even realize the power they possess – they do not celebrate their nature. 

Halloween is their time, a time of witches, a time of women – It is the quintessential holiday for women.  A time for women to celebrate all stages of their life and renew their connections with Mother Nature.

 the Ol'Buzzard

AUTUMN LEAVES BEGIN TO FALL

What is this mad compulsion to rake up all the leaves in the yard – to bag them up so the green grass shows?   This obsessive compulsive need to change fall back to summer makes no sense.  Or is it the need to keep up with the neighbors with a manicured yard?

Enjoy the fall.  Walk through the leaves.  Let the children play in the leaves.  Enjoy the fall colors as they cover the ground – it is a natural part of the changing season. 

I'm just saying

the Ol'Buzzard 

GHOST AND GHOULS AND GOBLINS, OH MY!

Yellow Dog Granny tells a GHOST STORY on her blog.

(check out the link above)

I can’t remember the number of people that I actually respect that have told me ghost stories; but over seven decades it has been quite a few.  

I don’t believe in ghost and goblins and things that go bump in the night.  I do believe that there is a small veil between the conscious and the unconscious – the same unconscious that gives us dreams.  

Here is my reasoning:

I don’t believe that mankind is somehow divine among the animal kingdom.   That there is actually a god in our image and that after death we continue on.   If that were true then evolution would be untrue. 

I place ghost in the same category as vampires and werewolves.    As long as we are truly safe we love to be scared – no one really wants to live through a zombie apocalypse, but we love to watch it on TV.

A friend of mine, that I respect, says he saw the specter of a Civil War soldier while renovating an old vacant home in rural Maine.  He said the specter was dressed in a Confederate uniform; a woman I know claims to have seen a lady in a white nightgown at a supposed haunted bed and breakfast; numerous people claim to have seen a Confederate officer on a white horse at night in the Battleground Cemetery in Vicksburg, Mississippi.  The list could go on and on. 

One of my rational objections is the clothes.    People are born without clothes.   Clothing is strictly a social amenity.   Why would dead people come back clothed?   Is there a ghost wardrobe available after you die?   Can you check out a ghost horse and saddle and bridal and sword along with your uniform before you decide to reappear?   Or, do your clothes die with you and come back as ghost in their own right?

How come the Confederate officer can have his ghost horse and yet the two cats that I loved and lost won’t come back and stay with me?

Are there ghost birds and eagles and bats, or are humans somehow special.   At what point in the evolutionary development of mankind does this ghost ability evolve: Australopithecus – Robust – Heidelbergensis - Neanderthal?   At what point does man become divine?

When we are in our fight or flight mode is our mind capable of playing tricks on us?   I think so.   But, it doesn’t make it any less spooky.

 

 Oh My.

the Ol’Buzzard    

.

http://yellowdoggrannie.blogspot.com/2015/10/ghosts-spooks-spirits-living-dead.html

MISSISSIPPI RAMBLING

I was raised in the Jim Crow south during the era of segregation.   My grandmother and I first lived in Kentucky and then when I was eight we moved to her hometown in the heart of the Mississippi Delta.  I was always considered and outsider: no father, from the north (Kentucky,) not Baptist and on top of that I was small for my age.   When I was nineteen I left Mississippi, joined the Navy and never returned.  

Decades later, when deciding to retire, my wife agreed to move to the small town in western Kentucky where I spent my youngest days, a time that had produced fond memories. 

The south is still covertly segregated.   The people in the south aren’t bad people; they are congenial, thoughtful and resourceful, with strong family ties.   But, their religious bred ignorance so permeates every facet of their life that it made the six years we spent in Kentucky uncomfortable.     Their religious prejudices are as strongly held as the Jim Crow prejudices held during segregation. 

The only good memory I have of Mississippi is the food.   Mississippi home cooking, strongly influenced by the black community, was in a class by itself.   Fried chicken, not breaded but lightly rolled in flour and then fried in bacon grease in a cast iron skillet until the skin was crispy; greens cooked with ham hock – cooked for hours until it surrenders a rich pot liquor – eaten with a dash of Louisiana Hot Sauce; catfish and hush-puppies with white beans; fresh slice, tart, acidy tomatoes with a dollop of mayonnaise, salt and pepper; homemade biscuits and eggs cooked in bacon grease with a side of grits with butter for breakfast; these were common fare and the memories I still carry.

And Oh yes, the music – the Delta Blues

 Black people in that Mississippi Delta town were looked down on, considered inferior in every way, exploited and often brutalized.  The irony is that today the only claim to fame that Mississippi town promotes is as the home of Muddy Waters. 

the Ol'Buzzard

AGING and OTHER SHIT

Age doesn’t impart wisdom it only conveys experience.  If you were a stupid young person you are probably a stupid old person, just with more experience.

There are a lot of correlations to this axiom.   Education does not infer intelligence; again, just more experience.       I once had a professor, a Doctor of Psychology, ask me if the moon is full in Maine was the moon also full in Florida.

Furthermore, higher education does not have to meet an accepted standard.   A Science degree from George Jones University, a fundamentalist Christian diploma mill, is not equivalent to a science degree issued by major, nonsectarian universities; and even high schools that teach religious adjusted curriculum as science are shortchanging their charges and propagating ignorance.

It is not unusual for people to be very good in one field and totally ignorant of everything outside of their specialty.   It doesn’t have to be Rain Man to warrant this conclusion: clue up Dr. Ben Carson.

Where am I going with this?   Hell, I don’t know.   It is six o-clock in the morning; it is still dark; the wife and the cats are asleep and I am not.   Somehow writing placates that person that keeps babbling in my head.

the Ol’Buzzard

 

CANADIAN ELCTIONS

If you don't have HBO then here is a clip for you that explains Canadian election 2015.

Canada, we do love you; and it is nice to know that your politicians are as fucked up as ours. 

the Ol'Buzzard

OCTOBER IN WESTERN MAINE

This has been the most beautiful fall I can remember here in western Maine.   The colors have been vivid with startling shades from brilliant red to brightest gold. 

But now the color has peaked and passed; our world has shifted to gold and yellows with bare branches beginning to show as the wind takes the leaves. 

The green is copper beach, it will turn late to a brassy copper.

 

I can truly say that fall has passed and the first indications of winter are settling in.   Today the high temperature was 41 degrees and snow has been predicted for the higher elevations.

This is the Maine I love: a place of four seasons; and the fall and winter are my favorite.

 

October 17^{th 2015} 

the Ol’Buzzard 

CELL PHONE ETIQUETTE

OLD MAN YELLS AT CLOUD

Yesterday I used my cell phone for the second time this year.   I called a small general store for a steak and cheese sandwich to go, on the way home from running errands.  

I got this phone in Alaska in 2005 when I was principal of three Native schools in the southeast tundra.   It was necessary I stay in connect with the schools and the district office whenever I was out of the villages.  

I pay $100 a year for 250 minutes through an Alaska communication company, and have found that I cannot find a comparable offer here in Maine - so I keep the Alaskan phone service.  

At present I have over 2000 minutes available; and though I carry the phone whenever we travel, or I am on the bike (motorcycle,) I never turn it on unless I need to make a call – which is almost never.   I don’t even know how to retrieve messages and missed calls and really don’t give a fuck.   I am not so important that I can’t wait until I get home and check my answering machine or e-mail.

I am not opposed to technology; I use TomTom when I travel, I enjoy the computer and I believe that technology is the only thing that may save the human race at some time in the future.    

But, no one needs to be connected 24/7.   No one needs to be communicating by text or telephone while driving; no one needs to have their phone turned on in a restaurant, movie, playhouse or other public venue.   The idea that anyone needs to sit in a restaurant with friends or family and check their e-mail or text is absurd and ignorant.

 

And, if you walk around with that thing that looks like a leach hanging out of your ear, and you are not an emergency room doctor on call, you are an…

Turn off your cell phone.   You are not that important.

The Ol’Buzzard

THE HUMAN RACE SUX, BUT HAVE A GOOD DAY

Today is a cat day.  It is raining and the temperature is fifty degrees with a slight wind. 

I love this type of day.    It’s a day to stay home and read, nap, eat, nap, drink wine, get laid and nap – and spend a short time on the computer this morning to get the need to write out of my system.

 

I have made a conscious effort not to mire into the political, economic and foreign policies of the country and the world on this blog; because what comes around goes around – and we will see the same insanity again and again and again.

So I try to blog about the non-crisis of the moment.   But today I have to comment.

  

October 9, 2015 and we have another shooting at a college campus, this week in Arizona.   Oh well; what’s Donald Trump doing?

The Republican led Congress is totally dysfunctional: they have inherited the wind; but we all suffer from a dysfunctional government.

We are quagmire in the Middle East and it is of our own making:  

  

In 2003 Bush invaded Iraq and removed Saddam, and that has turned into ethnic chaos resulting in Isil.

 We supported the overthrow of Kaddafi resulting in that country being destabilized and becoming a home for Al Qaeda.

Now we are demanding the overthrow of the government of Syria and removal of President Bashar al Assad – what could possibly go wrong there?  Obviously we can’t learn from past mistakes.

Adding to the Syrian conflict Russia has now militarily committed to the al Assad government and is flying missions in defiance of U.S. war planes.

  

Vladimir Putin is an ego-maniac that seems anxious for a confrontation with the U.S.   He is capable of escalating the Syrian conflict to a nuclear threat believing the U.S. will back down and Russia will be respected as the premier military power in the world. 

The problem is that we have our own ego-maniacs led by John McCain who would like to escalate a confrontation with Russia.  Yesterday McCain proposed implementing a no fly zone over Syria and confronting Russian war planes.  

I constantly make reference to George Orwell’s 1984 because the parallels to today are so striking.

 

The country is in a perpetual state of war: we fight them there because we don’t want to fight them here.

“War is Peace.”

The Patriot Act will keep us safe.

“Freedom is Slavery.”

The Tea Party has taken over the Republican Congress and vies for the Presidency.

“Ignorance is Strength.”

The parallels are endless.  If you haven’t read 1984 in a while…   Perhaps you shouldn’t – it might ruin your day.

The fucking country is a mess, the god damn world is a mess, the human race is a mess; but I don’t care.  It will be the same way when I am gone.    The human race cannot live in peace.  As individuals we are likable-enough; but in our herd, our pack or our troop we are destructive, vindictive and cruel. 

Am I depressed?   No way.   I plan to drink some wine, have a decadent lunch, and if I am lucky have sex this afternoon with my beautiful wife.

  

So the world can go to hell in a handbag – just as it always has.   We are the root of our own destruction and someday we will inherit the wind. 

But in the meantime have a good day

the Ol’Buzzard

A GREAT FALL RECIPEE

AN OCTOBER SOUP

One large butternut squash

Three and one half cups of low sodium chicken broth

One medium onion

One large apple

Cube the butternut squash into one inch pieces, add the diced onion and apple slices.  Place in a slow cooker with three and one half cups of low sodium chicken broth – cook on high for four hours or low for six.

Puree contents of slow cooker then add

1 teaspoon of cinnamon and one half teaspoon of nutmeg and three tablespoons of maple syrup.   Mix well and serve. 

A hardy soup meal with bread and butter.

Enjoy

the Ol'Buzzard  

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?

Read my lips
the Ol'Buzzard

OCTOBER: A SPECIAL MONTH FOR SPECIAL PEOPLE

When you are married to a witch October is a special month.

October 

Damn my hair has turned white.  

But, I still have some black in my mustache and my pubes are still black.

 The season for witches - and this one is mine

The baby is always watching the mamma witch

The Older Cat - My wife's familiar 

The exercise bike sits idle behind the chest: perhaps she can cast a spell that will make us want to use it next month.

Double bubble toil and trouble...

Counting down to Halloween

Look into my eyes...

The witch's broom -  hand made by an artisan in Kentucky.

Something evil this way comes

the Ol'Buzzard

WHO IN THE PLUPERFECT HELL DUG ALL THESE HOLES

Who in the pluperfect hell dug all these holes – and I wish he would stop digging.

 

One of my favorite movies – a classic in black and white – is God’s Little Acre.  

In a way I identify with that movie, except instead of digging the holes, I have spent my life filling them in. 

I just had my septic tank pumped out and the kaka pumper man said that judging by the level in the tank I may need to replace my drain field in the near future: four or five grand.   

I have always looked down the road and believed I could see smooth riding ahead; but when I get there some son-of-a-bitch has filled the road with more holes.

  

I get a good income tax return and a cap falls off a tooth…   It seems there is always something to keep my head just above water level.

I have rolled past the hump of my seventh decade but unlike Tietie l don’t have the undying confidence that there is gold at the bottom of the next hole.  

Don’t get me fucking wrong.   I am a fortunate person and I know it.   I am in good health for my age; I have had great adventures; I am married to a beautiful young wife; I live in rural Maine in an area I love; I can still ride my scoot; I have two Maine Coon Cats and a bottle of John Jameson whiskey on the cupboard. 

But son-of-a-bitch, it would be nice if Tietie would quit digging holes.

Maybe I need to catch me an albino – and make him look through the ground and tell me the drain field is all right.

the Ol’Buzzard

I CAN TAKE OR LEAVE ZOMBIES

BUT I AM DEFINITELY GLAD VAMPIRES ARE BACK.

Charlaine Harris has started a new series.    West of Bon Temps, Louisiana, in the west Texas town of Midnight – population 10 – the story continues.

  

In the first of the series, Midnight Crossroad, we meet the cast of characters – a strange group that choose to live in the middle of nowhere to protect their privacy.   It is a murder mystery with a strange cast that leaves you wondering.

In the second book, published this year, you find out more about the residents. 

Midnight is a spot in the road in the middle of west Texas nowhere.  If you ever travel through you might have the urge to stop and gas up and use the restroom at the convenience store; but you would be advised to travel on through; unless you are unafraid of vampires, weretigers and witches with talking cats.     

Traveler Beware!

the Ol’Buzzard