Letter to my dead lover, best friend, beautiful woman, delightful "bebe" (grandmother), mother, and child.

Debra, would that I could raise you from the dark ether of nothingness into the light of being, of living.
No matter what it would take, if I had the power to resurrect you, my love, I would do it!
I am here, reaching out with my heart and soul to find any part of you.
You died in that spot, right next to our bed, and yet I cannot sense a scintilla of your presence there. No aroma, not a whisper, not a hint of a ghostly touch.
I love you, Debra, with all my heart and soul, and I invite you to come to me and embrace any light or warmth my love can offer you.
I picture your silky, golden-reddish hair, babe. I remember touching ever-so-gently your forehead and stroking your temples with my fingertips.
You loved having your forearms stroked, slowly gliding up and down the length of your arms with fingers barely touching your skin.
You were my light in the dark, Debra. You were my peaceful haven, my heaven, my lady of bright spirit.
In my grief, I have tried to bargain for your return, but I know that you will not come back to me.
You are gone, baby. And I am surrounded and haunted by these ghosts - these sweet, quiet ghosts.
l saw you going down the escalator at the mall this afternoon; I saw you climb the tree in the back yard, though I had never seen you do that before.
More than 16 years, Debbi. We were companions for nearly 6,000 days, my golden lioness, and I cherish those moments, even to the last, though I wish I could banish the memory of your face's appearance as you took your last conscious breath. The sting and horror overwhelm me at times.
Debra, ILY4ever! I pray that your journey onward is filled with joy, and free of pain and sorrow.
Yours, always.                

april 24, 2016 - memories

Why am I psyched about this date?
Because "Game of Thrones" returns - and it was Debra and my favorite series on HBO!
John Snow lies dead - in the snow - having been stabbed repeatedly by "brothers" of the Night's Watch. Ghost, John's faithful dire wolf, howls in grief, locked behind a thick wooden door.
So why should a work of fiction weigh so much on the scales of my life? Why does a story anchored in treachery and warfare strongly hold my emotional attention?
I feel Debra beside me right now, smiling at me and mourning the death of Snow - knowing, of course, that the character is just an actor portraying a role - but the fantasy and whimsy thrills the heart and lightens the darkness of my soul.
That is why.
Too deranged? Too gloomy? Perhaps too desperate.
Life is a wondrous gift that has no basis in reality other than the fact of it.
God - who's that?
God - what's that?
Hope is the burning ember that pushes the human race forward into the next sunrise. And hope is the hat rack upon which God is suspended in the minds of all human beings.
Dogs, cats, eagles, giraffes, lions, rhinos, and every other living thing that breathes, feeds, uses senses to navigate through the world, none has a God to pray to or fear.
The emptiness tries to swallow me, the grief tries to strangle my beating heart, but Debra's love still holds me above the waterline, allowing me enough air to survive.
Someone (perhaps Stephen Hawking) once said, "With hope there's life."
Who would argue with that?
Not I.
And now, on with the show.

Trump: The biggest conman in America today!

For those of us who are baffled by the Svengali-like allure of Donald Trump on the poor, middle-class voters, there is such a huge chasm between reason and emotion relative to the "reasons" that Trump supporters give for their embracing the bad boy in politics today.
Odd that most of his supporters come from the poor - particularly since Trump has NOTHING in common with anyone who has ever lived paycheck to paycheck; yet the folks I've heard in media interviews pledge largely blind allegiance to the Trumpeting Trump.
I've yet to hear anyone, including Trump, give logical, thoughtful reasons for supporting Trump's platform, and the reason for that is obvious - he has no platform.
He has no economic policy, no foreign policy, no social policy, no environmental policy - no policy that I can discern.
And despite having watched the chest-thumping, browbeating contests where Trump has bullied his opponents during  so-called "debates," that were little more than ridicule-feats - an arena where Trump is comfortable and at home, having been a proponent of WWF, he could really shine - "Me Tarzan, you Jane. Shut-up and get on your knees, bitch!"
That is not hyperbole, I'm sorry to say, it's actually a typical Trumpism. Ugly statements that he likes to throw around like the words have no meaning.
I was gobsmacked when he said, [paraphrasing] "I could shoot somebody in Time's Square and not lose any support," and he truly believes that statement, as is clear by his behavior. And why not? It appears he has aroused a segment of the electorate that is foaming at the mouth for conflict, confrontation, and bullying anyone who doesn't agree with their messiah, the great Trumpeter of Donald, the Trump.
The state of politics in America today is so disheartening and frightful that I wonder if we the people will vote to destroy the Constitution in the name of a punch in the nose policy, linked to a "women are sex toys and dimwits" standard of manliness.
Trump's "manliness" is a farce that is turning into a terrible reality. And I don't hesitate to compare his popularity to that of Hitler in 1938, when he too hypnotized the German people with rhetoric filled with saber-rattling, chest thumping, divisiveness, and hate - appealing to the sad outcome of World War I.
Trump has tapped into the unruly, thoughtless, pissed off, simple-minded mob of people who feel disenfranchised and ignored, left behind by politicians, CEOs and bankers. And that is understandable, even reasonable in the face of backbreaking burdens and little hope of improvement. Yet, the best thing about America, and Americans, is the ability to resolve problems with determination, creativity and dignity, without the loud-mouthed, belligerence typical of bar brawlers.
But it appears that the Mafia has finally climbed into the electorate's driver's seat on the Republican caravan, so to speak.
Trump's belittling of women, his discriminatory statements targeting minorities and certain religious followers, and his confrontational rhetoric is appalling in the context of a presidential candidate. He is a pugnacious and aggressive know-it-all - who has nothing substantive to say when it comes to the nation's future.
"You can fool all of the people some of the time; some of the people all of the time; but you can't fool all of the people all of the time." I pray that Lincoln's wisdom holds true in this presidential election cycle.
We simply cannot afford to have a man like Donald Trump ascend to the office of president of the United States. He's better off on TV, portraying himself and uttering, "You're fired!" than he is as a political/social leader.

Death stalks us all

My mother died yesterday; Friday, March 4, 2016.
I didn't know, but one of my sisters told me she was just shy of 98 years old, so I'm guessing that she had many, many pages of memories in her attic. I pray that most of them brought her smiles.

Sleep deprived

It's 12:58 a.m. here in Texas, and I figure I'll fall asleep around 3:30-4:00 a.m. That's been the pattern since November and it doesn't figure to alter anytime soon.
I get up at 6:30 a.m. so, as is obvious, I wake up feeling dull-witted, sleepy, and running on fumes.
Not that I choose this warped sleeplessness - it's just happening. I don't dream - or I don't recall dreaming - and I don't feel any ominous sensations relative to my out of whack biorhythm.
Certainly makes for a surreal mindset during the day. It's like I'm floating from room to room, place to place, and I am serene, for the most part.
Kind of weird, really!
But there it is.
I'm typing this in an attempt to settle my butt in a chair and release any tension that cycles through my muscles and bones.
I miss D. I miss her smile, her laugh, her twinkling eyes, and her corny jokes. I miss her soft skin, her beautiful fingers as they touched my arm and chest. And I miss her legs wrapped around mine.
My life has become an unfinished Twilight Zone episode; it has a plot, a transition, and some good lines, but no resolution.
 I'm just sitting here making silent words to keep me company.
Hope you're enjoying restful sleeps and golden slumbers.

Vikings returns

The series, "Vikings" has returned - the first episode of the 4th season began tonight.
It is, by far, my favorite show on TV. The history oozes and seeps through the costumes, sets, geographic locales, plot lines, and the actors.
The characters are mesmerizing, unlike any that I can recall appearing on American television.
The superstitions, myths and fantasies touch a deep-rooted, hidden place in my psyche, though I enjoy the journey as I do any entertainment, quietly and with eyes riveted on the panorama.
So, life is good despite the ache and sorrow that haunts my nights, and sometimes my afternoons, too.
I think of Debra and I feel the burn of unrequited yearning. Sometimes I believe she is with me, even now, though I know she is dead and no longer of this earth. I miss her.
Perhaps I find some glimmer of a solution to my self-imposed prison of sadness in the lives of the Vikings. Ruthless, remorseless, violent, sexual folk, who lived like any moment could be their last; living fearlessly and fiercely, with no concern for public shows of envy, anger, love, lust, greed, and all the human emotions and impulses shared by all people - save the very, very few who live on the razor's edge of enlightenment and truth, and hellish infinity of fear and pain.
So I am amused and glad that Vikings has begun a new season. I wonder what mysteries will unfold through the 10 episodes (or so) that tell the story.
Be well. Live long, love truly, and prosper.

Super Bowl 50: The hype is ripe

The pregame show was good. The energy felt genuine, and the segment with Ron Howard (Opie!) was a nice twist on the typical "tell us your Super Bowl story" bit.
It had a certain American flavor to it and Mr. Howard, per usual, was looking through those lenses of his with uncommon aplomb.
So, who will win?
I like the Denver defense. I like the Panthers' offensive strategy (mostly).
If Payton Manning can nail a couple of 20-plus yard passes early in the game and, of course, take the team into the end zone, I give the edge to Denver.
If the Panthers intercept Manning early in the game, and then convert those INTs into points, then I give the Panthers the edge.
The Panthers, of course, are favored. But I think Denver may have a few sterling plays in their tool belt that could spin the heads of Carolina's defensive players just enough to rattle their cages and put them off their game.
More than usual, this Super Bowl will be one of gamesmanship - calling the right play at the right time.
It goes without saying that execution is key to any play, so that too must be considered and mixed into the stew.
I'll pick Denver (because they're underdogs) by 3 points.
OK, let's play!

Second half not yet begun.
Halftime show reminiscent of '60s-early '70s music mashups. Good show!
Best commercial so far - Jeep. Really emotionally charged, beautifully photographed commercial!
"We don't make Jeeps. You do!" Beautiful!
So it's 13-7 Denver and neither offenses are going anywhere thus far. Both defenses are playing lights-out (as expected), but Denver has to score TDs with their offensive squad, otherwise Carolina's bound to get in gear and win this thing.
I repeat, Manning needs to complete a couple of 20-plus yard passes and take the team in for a TD or two. That will do more to change the complexion of the game than anything, because I don't think most people believe that Payton can do it.
We shall see.
Let's play the second half, and may the best team win.

Fourth quarter: It looks like the defense is going to have to win this one for Payton. He just doesn't have the juice to get it done. If the defense can continue to blank Cam Newton and the gang, Denver wins it. If Cam finds a rhythm and gets on a roll, so long - Denver loses.

Looks like the Denver D is giving Payton a final gift - a second Super Bowl win!

The offense finally got a TD - thanks to the bowling ball shaped runner - Anderson - who fought like a devil to bang it in!
If Denver can hold on to the ball, maybe get this upcoming first down - it's game over! The Broncos are the winners of Super Bowl 50!
What an amazing defensive squad! Could be the best of all time! Certainly ranks in the top three best defensive squads in the NFL. Amazing! You don't see many games (especially Super Bowls) won by the defense in such a dominating fashion.
I'll say it again - amazing!
And now it's final. Denver is the Super Bowl championship team in 2016 - the 50th Super Bowl.

Take off the mirror on your head

When it all becomes too much to handle, just slip off the mask and look outside.
when it all grows too heavy to carry, just put the bucket down.
When the cross cuts too deeply into your neck and shoulders, drop it and walk away.
Should the horrors and sorrows pull you under, just relax and float awhile.
Nothing in this world is more than anything in your head - it's all the same.
Everything in this world belongs to you - only, you cannot own it since it cannot own you.
Balance is slow, fast, tilted, skewed, and cross-eyed.
Balance is perfect. Imperfect if you let it be.
Balance is important, though I'm not sure why.
Mostly, I want to see through my own lies so I can find something inside worth living for, and worth embracing.
Life is a miracle - a constant miracle that spreads far beyond my perceptions of this world.
But I'm smiling, so that's something.