A Day in the Life of Chaos

Galileo In the south they always say "blessed."  Have a blessed day or I am truly blessed.  Bless your heart they will tell you and then subsequently kick you in the ass.  Most of the time it is used as a kind of farewell wish or sense of self affirmation.  I am not sure who is doing the blessing, I am sure in their mind it is the Lord Jesus Christ.   I have always had trouble with this concept.  If there is a Lord Jesus Christ I have always assumed my life would be quite insignificant in the greater context.  Still self importance has always been the essence of Christianity.  Prior to Galileo the Sun revolved around the Earth.  Of course poor Galileo was made to recant his own teaching and discovery and forced by the inquisition to remain essentially under house arrest for the later years of his life.  Christians are allowed to speak directly to God and God will hear them.  He will bless them like a priest splashing holy water and make all their dreams come true.  Or

There is a certain amount of excitement and depression that accompanies a move and change of job.  On the one hand I am filled with energy and enthusiasm.  In the near future there is a new office, a new place welcoming me with open arms.  It is a chance to be a new person and fix all the mistakes of the past both professionally and humanistically.  As scant bits of information arrive concerning my move I find myself hanging on every new detail.  Every fragment of information detailing and describing my new life.  Like a jigsaw puzzle I seem to never get enough, each tiny piece constantly forming a larger picture.  Excitement seems to build as dates converge an new realities solidify. At the same time there is a counter process occurring.  It is almost a kind of Newtonian physics in principle.  With every action there is an equal opposite reaction.  In this case the opposite reaction is separation and letting go.  To date I have served 14 years in my current office and I am not sure

I can't sit still.  I know it bugs the hell out of some people.  I always feel like I need to be doing something.  I can't just talk on the phone, I have to walk around.  I can't sit and have a conversation without playing with a game or holding something in my hand.  Perhaps it is the result of my mother's encouragement to always accomplish something with each action.  "Going upstairs, grab something that needs to go upstairs." she would say.  Sometimes I swear cell phones may be the death of me.  Too convenient to check things, always near my hands.  If I could get rid of one invention, that would be the one.  I hate the damn thing but I use it.  I suppose I live my life much the same way.  I have trouble sitting still.   To date my life has been a vast series of locations.  It is quite unlike the lives of those that surround me.  In South Carolina many will never leave the country much less their own state.  Summer is a trip to Myrtle Beach and a famil

"Today is the youngest that you will ever be."   I have been thinking about this phrase a lot lately.  In a subtle way I think it is almost like the phrase "do you view the glass half empty or half full?"  I suppose I tend to lean toward the optimistic side. In a way this simple phrase has become a kind of motto for me in my life.   As time passes if we spend too much time reflecting on the past or contemplating the future things tend to vanish before our eyes completely unnoticed.  Simply put, the present will be our pass and moments ago was our future. I know with each passing day my body is growing older yet despite the age spots on my hands and arms, the flab around my belly and the unexplained discomforts that seem to appear with ever increasing frequency, I must remind myself that today I am young and I should feel young. After all, today is the youngest I will ever be. Soon I will say goodbye to America.  When I started my career a seemingly inexplicab

I write a lot about life and death.  I love life and contemplate death.  I don't believe in easy solutions.  I don't believe in heaven or hell, beyond that I have no idea. I do believe in death, I do believe in pain.  I suppose there are few who would disagree.  I do believe in the anguished voice of my son when I tell him his father could have died.  I believe in the concern of my wife or in the tormented tears of my father facing a reality that wasn't, but could have been.  I believe in the power of a bullet to fly through the air imperceptibly fast, striking my flesh and sending my life into the chasm of universal question's without living answers. It seems the philosophical side of myself predicates the story I must tell.  There are few times in life when one sees a possible moment of their exit from humanity.  Of course there is the natural moment when the years and our bodies consume us.  Still, there are other moments, disturbing moments that once they hap

I am sure if one paid critical attention to my blog over the years they would rightly perceive I live my life in a constant state of internal analysis.   Many have told me I think too much and honestly they are probably right.   Still thinking is my trade as is analysis and the two skills while earning me a living, seem to haunt me in everyday life. I haven’t written much lately.   I think my urge to write is often stimulated by complexities or questions in life.   When they are present my creativity like water seeks a path and many times the blog presents the channel that I follow.   Often time’s questions in life are stimulated by my own actions and I suppose I am entering another one of those phases as I make another effort to secure a position overseas for the majority of the professional years I have left. I took a walk at lunch today.   It is spring in South Carolina.   The weather is friendly while the pollen chokes your throat.   Spring brings a sense of renewal

Civil Service is such an innocuous term.  It sounds like it could represent a myriad of different things none of them having anything to to do with being an anonymous government employee.  In reality it is a time honored term to represent those that give their lives and careers to government in a belief that it has a role to play in society.  These days the very guardians of our Civil Service seem neither civil nor dedicated toward service.  Instead of dignity and courtesy we are treated to a barrage of indignity and down right insolence.  Esteemed former Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan once said, "The central conservative truth about politics is that it is culture not politics that determines the fate of society.  The central liberal truth is that politics can help change a culture and save it from itself." While Senator Moynihan does a brilliant job of phrasing the philosophical clash of ideals between liberals and conservatives at its heart is an underpaid and often

As a child grows older one of the most rapidly changing places in any house is their bedroom.  It is evolution times one hundred.  Toys that once seemed so appropriate are suddenly as out of place as an Avon Lady in coal mine.  While I understand the parent who went crazy and spent a fortune on the pirate ship bed, I pity them as one year merged into the next.  Suddenly the once magical bed no longer seemed quite appropriate as their child's legs surpassed it's length. After numerous requests, and having safely left his urges to have a room with the walls painted black in the rear view mirror, I recently succumbed to my sixteen year old's prostrations for an update.  It was an exercise in compromise.  Despite his urging I refused to allow him to forsake his bed frame and place his mattress on the floor.  To him it seemed "cool," to me it seemed representative of either homelessness or my college years.  I did however let him choose the paint and overall theme.

  The sun beat down oppressively as I shifted myself into a slightly shaded covered part of the boat.  Sea swells of three feet tossed the craft from side to side in a rocking motion more akin to a once balanced rocker trying to navigate a boulder placed under one side.   Rhythmic motion was replaced by a jostled frenzy.  I pulled a black hood over my head that when stretched to its full extent, left only a small circle of skin exposing my mouth, nose, and eyes.  A little more coverage and I would have appeared as nondescript, as a Muslim woman wearing a full Hijab.  I could feel my skin trying to sweat yet the 5mm thick neoprene that covered my body refused to allow the droplets any space to form.   Nervously I checked and rechecked my air supply. "There was air there right?" I asked myself.  I mean I think I had turned the knob the right way.  I felt somewhat like a contortionist in a freak show as I clumsily reached down and did my best to secure my two fins.  With the f

I hate guns.  Well I don't hate them, I just don't care for them much.  I have gone shooting but killing is simply not my thing and shooting at a target for hours loses its fun after about 15 minutes.   I grew up in a gun culture, how could Alaska be anything else?  When I was 15 one of my friends had a semi-automatic rifle.  Another friend had a pistol with a laser site.  We used to go out and shoot at cans from time to time.  I have never owned a working gun and really I don't have much desire to change that.  I think in my mind guns represent an expression of power over another person.  It is an artificial expression of power supported by a tool that can take life in an instant. Sure I suppose I would feel differently if I lived on the frontier.  If I had a cabin in the mountains I might even buy a shotgun.  In my professional life I am surrounded by guns.  I quietly work around more weapons than most people might see in their lifetimes.  Still, these guns are all t