A Day in the Life of Chaos

David Hockney's "Pearblossom Highway #2." As I cross the mid-point of my life and move toward third base I always find myself wondering where is home?  These thoughts have recently come brilliantly to the forefront as I not long ago made contact with a distant cousin who is in the oil industry.  He lives a life of wandering that makes my own seem humble.   While Texas is his home his journeys carry him to Russia, Egypt, Oman, Yemen, Kazakhstan and East Africa.  Oh the old saying, "Home is where the heart is." has a certain ring to it but does it really mean anything?  As human beings we associate experiences with places and they color our minds in a collage of memories.  For some these are all close to home and for others, they span the world.  I often wonder if those that never lived a vagrant life are more satisfied?  They must feel so connected to the place that they live.  Like it is a part of them and they a part of it.  Are they happy with this or do th

Oh my homosexuals can get married.  Suddenly I wake up in the morning and my conventional marriage means nothing.  The temptations are so great, I am seriously thinking about becoming gay.  Think of the advantages, a sense of design, a spouse I can fight with.  Someone beside me snoring in the bed.  Maybe he will cook for me!  It is everything I dreamed of.  I have always wanted to be gay and damn it, now I can do it.  Wait...  hold the presses... I just realized something.  My life is no different than it was yesterday.  In truth, my marriage is not threatened, I am not any gayer than I was on Wednesday.  I still get that better tax bracket and I do believe, I still have health insurance.  Hmmm... what happened? What happened?  A big group of people finally got their version of civil rights, at least momentarily.  The majority was told that they can't pass laws impacting the rights of minorities.  That they have to respect the Constitution.  Was that so bad?  It was kind of

My mom would be surprised if she was alive today.  She spent a large amount of her childhood growing up in the South.  For my part, as the heir to her life experience,  I was the victim of turnip greens and salt rising bread.  I have to admit, the okra grew on me.  While she had lived in the North since graduating from college if you listened carefully you could still hear that twang in her voice.  Her parents spent their last years in Louisiana and her brother still lives in Birmingham, Alabama.  Her son was a product of the North, literally.  I grew up in Alaska probably closer to Canadian than American.  Okay, Canadian with out the socialism surrounded by guns and anti-federalism.  Come to think of it, maybe I was the only socialist non-Canadian Canadian in the state.  Well, Canada aside today I call Columbia, South Carolina my home. If my mother were alive today she would have been shocked but perhaps a little bit proud.  I am not sure why, maybe it's a Southern thing.  Wh