Calming the Salmon

Deserts exert influence on the riverbed, distressing the fauna. Salmon born early, their birthplace a sauna. Reluctant fishermen catch and release. Release and catch and release again. The whole time the cast was their only plan.

For bombshells and clamshells, honeycombs and honeybells, we take it easy and take it well.

A lifetime in solitude is a day in hell.

You have to keep your mouth closed to tell this tale.

Any man can have a vision, only the honorable will act. It’s all the rage to hesitate, and that’s why I react.

A million years to call your own, with never a space to label home.

The time we spend to keep our place won’t mean a thing if the sun goes nova. Sun worshippers convert now to Jehovah.

Berate the boys for making noise. Hate the noise, not the boys.

A lot has happened since we last met. Our psychic connection relates all which hasn’t…yet.

Contradictory Living

Photo by Mollie Sivaram

There are those who get to middle school who cry in their sleeves about how badly they miss recess. Sure they do. So why is it when they get to gym class they won’t do anything? They just sit in the bleachers and whine.

Contradictory living.

There’s plenty of that going around.

Some will tell you they will never surrender and the next thing they do is follow a tradition they disagree with to the depths of their heart. For instance, the tradition of lying about your age or your weight. People at the age of 70 or older saying they’re 25, for instance. It’s cute, sure. But is it not contradictory when the same person will be all put out when someone lies to them about something, anything? “You LIED to me?!” So then, is it wrong to lie, or not? Never surrender? Except for that one “little” thing? You’ve got to make up your mind, old man.

How about that guy on the road? You know him. You’ve seen him. He’s passing everyone and shifting lanes. He’s spitting curses at everyone he considers to be in his way, which is the majority. He’s revving up to this one and that one so he can yell at them for the “cut off”. 

“You cut me off!”

Then the next car.

“You cut me off!”

He isn’t only contradictory, he’s dead wrong. Nobody’s cutting him off. They’re all minding their own business while he’s driving up close to their rear end. Weird habit.

Finally, there are those of us who want a way out, but we do nothing to get there. We think we’re in prison or something. If so, it’s a prison of our own making, a prison of our own mind. None of us are digging tunnels to escape though, are we? We just keep on living how we’re living. Contradictory living.

If You’re A Man

When you’re a man and you get slapped, your first response is to apologize.

Sometimes it sounds like this, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt your hand…with my face?”

To be a true man means you don’t retaliate. The first thing a child does is start swinging, try to get in a couple of shots, try to “even the score”. The childish mindset will sometimes even try to find vicious ways to get revenge when the other person isn’t looking. The cowardly way of children who pretend to not be hurt, but hold a grudge anyway, is contemptible.

An adult male, otherwise known as a man, will have matured beyond such petty psychopathic responses. The mature male will apologize even if he doesn’t know what he could have possibly done wrong. Even if a quick mental review of everything he did in the past few hours seems legitimately good, he’ll say he was sorry, knowing full well there’s more harm in holding the apology to save face than there is in bringing on potential embarrassment.

A real man cares less about his own feelings than someone else’s emotional state.

A real man doesn’t think insults are a form of humor.

A real man defends women and children.

Real men will tell you how it’s going to happen long before they hit you. “Listen buddy. If you go on talking crass that way, you better get a plastic bag to hold your teeth.”

“Wait, what?”

“Because I’m going to knock them out.”

“Ooooh.”

Yep. And another outcome, generally, if a couple of mature males happen to lose their tempers and lose their mature cool and start hitting each other, is that they’ll have more respect for each other afterward. Scientists the world around haven’t been able to discover how this works, but it does.

So just back away and let them work it out the way only men can.

Park Yourself

…out where few can find you. Where survival has the greatest appeal. Where your car can’t go.

Park yourself, not your car. Find yourself in desolate places with beautiful vistas on every hand. Out where influencers have no influence. Where it’s more evident how nature rules.

Sit still and let the beauty surround you. Let the beauty become you.

Turn under the sun. Once every hour, until you’re done.

Not baked, not fried, only done.

And when you return home, don’t forget the places you’ve been, remember them with your photographic memory. Recall them whenever you need a break from the crowded city streets, or from the onslaught of opinions and criticisms.

Right there where you parked yourself, in the quiet lonely places.

Harpoons and Doubloons

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but we really did ride the torpedoes. It was inevitable for sure. You can’t invent something that rides the waves that fast and expect a man to stay off of it. No sir, you cannot.

Whenever you talk about servicemen (and women) of any kind, you have to understand you’re talking about those who are constantly looking for adventure. Naturally, if you show them a puddle of water, they’re going to want to see what’s in the puddle. They might even try to splash all the water out of it. If you give them something with a motor or a propulsion system, they’re going to want to drive it.

These were the guys I served with in the Navy.

The guy on the left was the craziest, and the most fun. He was always tapping on things. Drumming really, but we never realized it ’til later. At first, everyone thought he was infatuated with morse code. Then we all figured out his constant tapping was rhythmic. Once we knew what he was doing, we could tell he was an amazing drummer.

The other two were officers, so they mostly bossed everyone around. They were fun too, in their own ways. The one would dress up in yellow and black and demand we call him by his “stage name.” He was always reminding us to not stand too close.

It was a grand time, chasing waves, flinging harpoons, firing cannons, and collecting doubloons.

If you have the same sense of adventure, I would recommend it. If you’d rather stay home and take your adventure in smaller doses, you could try a nautical song I heard recently titled “Message In A Bottle”.