Summer Vibes

Seems like I’m caught up in your trap again
Seems like I’ll be wearing the same old chains
Good will conquer evil and the truth will set me free
And I know someday I will find the key
I know somewhere I will find the key

But now I’m trapped

Seems like I’ve been playing your game way too long
Seems the game I’ve played has made you strong
When the game is over I won’t walk out the loser
I know I’ll walk out of here again
I know someday I’ll walk out of here again

But now I’m trapped

Seems like I’ve been sleeping in your bed too long
Seems like you’ve been meaning to do me harm
But I’ll teach my eyes to see beyond these walls in front of me
Someday I’ll walk out of here again
Someday I’ll walk out of here again

But now I’m trapped

Seems like I’ve been playing your game way too long
Seems the game I’ve played has made you strong

Jimmy Cliff

This song reminds me of the way our country has sleepily been drawn into complacency and now, suddenly realizing the danger we are in, vowing to change. These Trumpers are hopefully beginning to understand how they have us all trapped beneath the weight of this child-king.

We shall see where this saga ends. There seems a case for mild optimism given that Trump’s lunacy is becoming more deranged and even conservatives are starting to pull back a bit. If what I read in the paper is correct — who knows for sure.

Trump and Musk bromance seems to be under strain. They are now trying to outcrazy one another.  

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Whenever my mother puts something into the dishwasher, she says ‘I think I’ll let Betsy do the dishes today’. Every time. God bless her. 

I finally got my very large garage cleaned up. It was necessary. Chores are getting done, but more pop up. Never ends as we know. 

I’m watching Mom’s dog (Maggie) and Larry’s dog (Lester) while they are all in Alaska. It’s a chore. Lester is always underfoot and Maggie is an escape artist. But she is predictably easy to capture as she runs across the street and sits in front of mom’s front door. And, because she’s chubby, even I can run her down without difficulty. 

She misses her people. Poor girl. 

I made a delicious pasta for dinner. Broccoli, garlic, onion, red pepper, green and Kalamata olives sautéed with olive oil and a little white wine and a touch of water from the pasta. 

Now I am sitting on the patio with a fire in the pit. Sipping a little whisky. Lester and Marti are outside with me. Lester is 16 — blind and deaf and has a goiter the size of a baseball on his right rear hip. His moves are erratic and uncoordinated. He wanders around bumping into things but somehow seems mostly fine with life.

I did escape to ride the little Blue Triumph over some county roads. Then a stop at Strongs for a beer. I had my book with me. The Razor’s Edge. Sitting there in the sunshine at the little outdoor table with a frosty beer and a good book — well that is just about heaven. Pretty great.

Marti knows this neighborhood. She knows people and their patterns. She will sit patiently for long minutes staring across the street to where the lady will soon emerge with her dog for the evening walk. Marti will dutifully bark as if this is a new occurrence. As if this doesn’t happen twice a day every day we are at this house in Somerset.

Marti is built for purpose. She retains the agility and demeanor of a hunter. She runs and jumps like a wolf but can also sit motionless for long periods staring and listening and watching and smelling the air for something interesting to come into her sphere of awareness.

When a cat or a squirrel or a rabbit presents itself, as is common, she is off as if fired from a rocket. No stretches and no pulled muscles. She races across the yard barking and at full gallop, coming to a skidding stop just before she slams into the fence. 

She is beautiful. Perfect in form and function. Her temperament is a little aloof. She can be affectionate but chooses her moments. She is stubborn and has a tendency for solitude, and I respect that. I understand it. 

‘The Razors Edge‘ remains one of my favorite books. I just finished the re-read today.

The movie adaption was also credible. A terrific role from Bill Murray. The movie deviated very little from the book and well represented some of the complicated themes.

There’s a point in the book where all of Larry’s research, backed up by personal discussions with monks and learned men, and writings and discussions from dozens of teachers who lived over more than a thousand years, boils down to a single point.

All of life happens in the present. All of it. Everything else – Every pretense about past and every worry or anxiety over the future, is nonsense. In the book, Larry who inherited a very modest annuity, eventually renounces even that small modicum of security in favor of living life completely and fully in the moment. I am attracted that concept, and I so completely understand it’s truth, and yet, I am still out here trading my precious time and resources and emotional energy for a paycheck. I know that is a flawed approach to life; that true happiness comes from freeing myself from that bondage, and yet I keep chasing that illusive dream that someday I will have enough accumulated to quit working. 

The answer is now. All the signs are there. And yet…..

I am currently writing a novel. I offered a pre-read to a couple of friends. The feedback has come back positively. Not without constructive observations, but the general sense of I want to see what happens next. That is, to my view, the best measure. So I am encouraged.

Here are my current roles in this world — in addition to living life, being the best boyfriend I can be, the best dog-caretaker I can be, a decent son and sibling and maintaining two households. 

Full-time job. This goes without saying. This is what pays the bills.

Monthly work on NamibFutures, EmergingNamibia and of course MYO. I am also at the beginning stages of a start-up technology company and that is taking some time. This blog takes a bit of time (although that may not be obvious). And I am trying to get several hours in each week on my great American novel. I wrote a screenplay not long ago but it was not accepted for the Appalachian festival. Fuckers. 

At Black Dog Ridge, I am having a garage built and a fireplace built-in. I will also add a detached bedroom in the forest canopy that will be connected by a walkway — but that may only happen next year. See how the money holds out with the start-up biz starting to draw cash.

It’s enough for now. 

There are some pictures yet of our trip to NYC. 

Humbly Submitted
Robert Myres – Flanker, Portneuf Valley Rugby Football Club (ret.)