The Dog's office doghouse is a reflecton of the Rod Stewart line, "Every Picture Tells A Story". A long life history creates a lot of wall hangings, and more so many memories. These artifacts serve to rekindle thoughts of people, places and things -- experiences. Each can give me one of those "poignant pauses" to reflect and connect again.
Likewise, there's always music playing in the office doghouse. The music serves several purposes.
One, it's just nice to have music (if you think music in your office seems unprofessional, you have issues beyond professionalism).
Two, the music is a constant reminder that the effective performance depends on many things --- the environment -- the people playing in the band --the need for everyone to perform as individuals...and as a group -- and the absolute dependence of the leader on the members of the band, the need of the leader for the followers to play to play well. What a better metaphor for leadership?
Third, the music, like the wall hangings, has been selected by choice, not randomly. Every song also tells a story, brings back a memory of an event or a person in my life. As Leonard Bernstein once said, "Music can name the un-nameable and communicate the unknowable." In other words, it helps you think of what was, what is, and what may have been. Such things bring everything from smiles to melancholia, but rarely, if ever, regrets.
So, it came to pass, on a quiet Sunday morning not too long ago, Aerosmith's "Walk This Way" fired up and the Dog was given cause to reflect on the message under the vulgarities of lyric: "I wonder what ever happened to her?"
It was 1965, and the Dog was fresh from his 8-year Catholic School indoctrination and entering the world of "public school" and worrying more about becoming the "high school loser" than getting any sort of good grades.
And so it came to pass that one day, while wandering the halls of Stuart Junior High School on a perpetual search for coolness, a raven haired girl appeared on my right arm and began conversing in junior high school girl style that guaranteed a sweaty breakout on my forehead and total loss of control in the brain-mouth connection.
The Dog knew this girl from home room and a couple of classes, but didn't pay much attention to things perceived to be beyond reach. She was well beyond reach, in my mind until then. Her name was Linda, and she was one of those school girls that fit in between the niches. Don't go down the trash chute with this thought. I never went out with her.. But with that conversation and subsequent hall walks, she did give me the impetus to "walk this way, talk this way". She wasn't a cheerleader, but she was cool, and a bit understated. She didn't run with the blond bombs or the cheerleaders, but more with the darker side. As with that fringe player status, she had a mystery about her. She didn't have to fake "cool".
Linda never graduated with us. During our junior year she found someone on the dark side, and that was it for Linda in the high school life. She disappeared. The Dog never asked nor thought about her much until Aerosmith re-lit the memory. When I hear the song, I think of Linda and hope she found some good music in her life; and made some good memories. She's one of mine.
I hope that everyone has such memories, and revisits them regularly.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Happy Dogs Find A Way Around The Wall
Happened upon an interview with Roger Waters on the radio (you remember radios, right?). Roger Waters, for you of the unenlightened music scene, chummed up with another rock guru named Syd Barrett and started a small English band called Pink Floyd. They blew out the '70's and '80's, with things like "The Wall" and "Dark Side of the Moon", and then like so many others disintegrated into stife and conflict and litigation.
Anyway, during the interview Waters was asked why his writing and music was so dark and depressive. Waters responded that he only writes what he sees. He went out of his way to point out his positive and happy demeanor, and then spoke about artists only painting what they see and the things he saw weren't real positive in those days. Those of us who can remember the '70s would agree. Those were dark times.
But, Water's raises an Interesting thought... we are what we see, our perception is our reality, we are pack animals influenced by our environment. When we're puppies we see life presenting itself to us as it is. Then our parents, our teachers, our media, our culture, "teach" us how to see the world in the "right" way. We are given labels for things in our world, we are given the right language to describe beings and events, and eventually we can't read the world in any other language or hear it saying anything else then what has been written on the walls of our minds.
Too often happiness comes by breaking that spell and forcing ourselves to listen to the world in new ways, new views, and new languages, and let the world speak to us and write new meanings in our existence.
Thanks Roger, it's never too late to tear down the walls and raise your legs on the ones that won't come down.
Anyway, during the interview Waters was asked why his writing and music was so dark and depressive. Waters responded that he only writes what he sees. He went out of his way to point out his positive and happy demeanor, and then spoke about artists only painting what they see and the things he saw weren't real positive in those days. Those of us who can remember the '70s would agree. Those were dark times.
But, Water's raises an Interesting thought... we are what we see, our perception is our reality, we are pack animals influenced by our environment. When we're puppies we see life presenting itself to us as it is. Then our parents, our teachers, our media, our culture, "teach" us how to see the world in the "right" way. We are given labels for things in our world, we are given the right language to describe beings and events, and eventually we can't read the world in any other language or hear it saying anything else then what has been written on the walls of our minds.
Too often happiness comes by breaking that spell and forcing ourselves to listen to the world in new ways, new views, and new languages, and let the world speak to us and write new meanings in our existence.
Thanks Roger, it's never too late to tear down the walls and raise your legs on the ones that won't come down.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Dog Pads
Dog's got a blog.
Dog's got a Facebook.
Dog's got a LinkedIn.
Dog's got a blackberry.
Dog's got a iPad
Dog's got a Twitter.
Now Dog needs time.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Physical Fit
Forget the budget wars; all of us cynics know in the back of our minds that the pseudo intellectual politicos will pull it out of their self-preservation and pass a bill either at the 11th or 12th hour. The Tea Farty has made their point, and their inch deep brains have hopefully been orgasmically appeased. But more about that later - maybe.
The real thought today is on physical fitness, wellness or otherwise being able to breathe when you stand up. The Dog's been pondering this for some time - and it's been one of those irrepressible hot buttons for a long time. The Dog used to weigh in at a svelte 234, so don't think too many mean thoughts about him.
While real dogs go for a run, this one goes for a bike ride some time. And, one of the misguided thoughts that regularly come to me is the incentive that people SHOULD have for losing weight when they try to squeeze into their trendy, over-priced, bike riding togs. I won't even comment on the ones who fall off the bikes because they can't get their $100 bike shoe off the peddle.
The Dog more than admires everyone's efforts to get some exercise and clear their pores and arteries with a little cardio sweat programming. But, the only people who look reasonable in those spandex compressors are real bike people, and few others. No sexist comments here, you can make them yourselves. I know what you're thinking.
But, now seriously folks, do some of these people actually LOOK at themselves when they put on the biker shorts and the skin tight jersey shore shirts? I know they must laugh at the guy on Modern Family when he dons the biker shorts, so why don't they make the connection?
Of course, who am I to talk when I'm merrily peddling along in gym shorts and t-shirt and one of the over-stuffed ones buzzes by me? Ride on !!
Another thought in this physical fit, the Dog would like to encourage both readers to attend any meetings, lectures, or presentation on wellness and, this time of year, health insurance programs. I went to one last week and listened to the presenters talk about the cost of insurance and the need for people to take responsibility for some of these costs being caused by over utilization and people leading unhealthy life styles.
The Dog went to refill his dog dish with warm coffee and happened to notice the eight people sitting in the back row folding chairs. Six of them seriously couldn't fit on the chairs. That can't be comfortable, can it? The Dog flashed on the thought that the view had to be similar to the one Aaron Rogers gets when he approaches the Packers offensive line on any play.
The Dog put down the scone and drank the coffee black; admiring them for attending, hoping they would listen and that they would live happily ever after.
OK, one more, from the other side. Have you ever noticed how the "physically fit" are always carping about being sore, or having a pulled something, or limping, or being tight in the chest, legs, or some body part? And, when they go out for an evening they always remind everyone that they can only eat salad, bland food, and drink less than real drinks? After they've succeeded in bringing everybody else down, they then have a heart attack or get hit by a bus? Seriously, get over yourselves and just live in semi-moderation and bust loose every now and then and experience something called "life". If that's your life, so be it, just don't wake up on your death bed wishing you had tried the lasagna. Or wake up wishing you hadn't, for that fact.
Back to the trail.... Ride on.
The real thought today is on physical fitness, wellness or otherwise being able to breathe when you stand up. The Dog's been pondering this for some time - and it's been one of those irrepressible hot buttons for a long time. The Dog used to weigh in at a svelte 234, so don't think too many mean thoughts about him.
While real dogs go for a run, this one goes for a bike ride some time. And, one of the misguided thoughts that regularly come to me is the incentive that people SHOULD have for losing weight when they try to squeeze into their trendy, over-priced, bike riding togs. I won't even comment on the ones who fall off the bikes because they can't get their $100 bike shoe off the peddle.
The Dog more than admires everyone's efforts to get some exercise and clear their pores and arteries with a little cardio sweat programming. But, the only people who look reasonable in those spandex compressors are real bike people, and few others. No sexist comments here, you can make them yourselves. I know what you're thinking.
But, now seriously folks, do some of these people actually LOOK at themselves when they put on the biker shorts and the skin tight jersey shore shirts? I know they must laugh at the guy on Modern Family when he dons the biker shorts, so why don't they make the connection?
Of course, who am I to talk when I'm merrily peddling along in gym shorts and t-shirt and one of the over-stuffed ones buzzes by me? Ride on !!
Another thought in this physical fit, the Dog would like to encourage both readers to attend any meetings, lectures, or presentation on wellness and, this time of year, health insurance programs. I went to one last week and listened to the presenters talk about the cost of insurance and the need for people to take responsibility for some of these costs being caused by over utilization and people leading unhealthy life styles.
The Dog went to refill his dog dish with warm coffee and happened to notice the eight people sitting in the back row folding chairs. Six of them seriously couldn't fit on the chairs. That can't be comfortable, can it? The Dog flashed on the thought that the view had to be similar to the one Aaron Rogers gets when he approaches the Packers offensive line on any play.
The Dog put down the scone and drank the coffee black; admiring them for attending, hoping they would listen and that they would live happily ever after.
OK, one more, from the other side. Have you ever noticed how the "physically fit" are always carping about being sore, or having a pulled something, or limping, or being tight in the chest, legs, or some body part? And, when they go out for an evening they always remind everyone that they can only eat salad, bland food, and drink less than real drinks? After they've succeeded in bringing everybody else down, they then have a heart attack or get hit by a bus? Seriously, get over yourselves and just live in semi-moderation and bust loose every now and then and experience something called "life". If that's your life, so be it, just don't wake up on your death bed wishing you had tried the lasagna. Or wake up wishing you hadn't, for that fact.
Back to the trail.... Ride on.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Dog's Day "Memorial" - 40 Years Later
The Dog was coming home. Working my way through the San Francisco airport to make the flight to Seattle. The resplendent disabled veteran, in my Marine Corps uniform, medals worn proudly.
I saw her coming well in advance. Call it jungle awareness, call it noticing the obvious, the point is that I knew she was directed at me and was on a mission.
She was in her late 20's, shoulder length dark hair and big brown eyes that burned with the passion and fire of someone who was following her heart. She was carrying a brown leather shoulder bag and wearing a long navy blue wool coat. She moved toward me with the grace of a tigress.
When she was within fifteen feet of me, I stopped. My instinct and reflexes told me to watch her hands, her bag, her coat. My sense told me to look deeper into her eyes.
She came to me, stopping within a foot and I could feel her energy and heat. I could smell her scent.
She grabbed me with her eyes, pulling my total focus there in initiating the shaking and nervous stomach of apprehension.
We stood there, locked in that optic connection, for some time -- then she blinked and the tears came down her cheeks. I had watched them fill her eyes and move onto her high cheekbones. She was sending me her pain, her sorrow... her hate.
Her right hand came up quickly, index finger extended as her mouth opened. She was struggling to find words, and when they finally came, the voice was raspy and choking through a hoarse throat.
Her finger touched the ribbons on my chest.
"You're nothing but a hit man for the U.S. Government."
With that, she moved to my left and down the concourse.
Physically, she was out of my life. Mentally, she will always be a part of my spirit.
I hope she found peace. I hope she found love.
I saw her coming well in advance. Call it jungle awareness, call it noticing the obvious, the point is that I knew she was directed at me and was on a mission.
She was in her late 20's, shoulder length dark hair and big brown eyes that burned with the passion and fire of someone who was following her heart. She was carrying a brown leather shoulder bag and wearing a long navy blue wool coat. She moved toward me with the grace of a tigress.
When she was within fifteen feet of me, I stopped. My instinct and reflexes told me to watch her hands, her bag, her coat. My sense told me to look deeper into her eyes.
She came to me, stopping within a foot and I could feel her energy and heat. I could smell her scent.
She grabbed me with her eyes, pulling my total focus there in initiating the shaking and nervous stomach of apprehension.
We stood there, locked in that optic connection, for some time -- then she blinked and the tears came down her cheeks. I had watched them fill her eyes and move onto her high cheekbones. She was sending me her pain, her sorrow... her hate.
Her right hand came up quickly, index finger extended as her mouth opened. She was struggling to find words, and when they finally came, the voice was raspy and choking through a hoarse throat.
Her finger touched the ribbons on my chest.
"You're nothing but a hit man for the U.S. Government."
With that, she moved to my left and down the concourse.
Physically, she was out of my life. Mentally, she will always be a part of my spirit.
I hope she found peace. I hope she found love.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Dog's View of Democracy
Been hearing a lot lately about this term "democracy", and had to wake the Dog up for some thoughts....
The Dog, fresh from sojourn to Key West and visits with Ernie Hemingway and Hunter Thompson, remains groggy as Aerosmith's "Same Old Song and Dance" rips the dust from the microbials...
First thought... ala Hunter, don't confuse democracy with democrats.
Second thought, ala Ernie, the one thing they do have in common is that nobody really understands either of them.
The Dog's basically a socialist democrat with a lot of growing conservative tendencies. An old Dog revolutionary who has a mix of patience, experience, and apathos now running through his veins. An FDR Democrat, an Eisenhower Republican, a George Meany Unionist, who talks to himself.
So, given all of that babble-on... one of the brightest memories of my Boulder education is hearing that democracy and capitalism are two systems that are inherently self-destructive. Ken Boulding was a wise man.
I also remember, and still believe, the line, "leadership must be greatly participative, but it can never be democratic". Sacrilege !! Blasphemy !!! No dears, THE truth.
But, what, exactly, is democracy? Not your theoretical, your reality.
Noah's Webster's notes that it doesn't mean everybody necessarily gets a vote in the way things happen, but it does cite majority rule. A lot of Wisconsites choose to forget their present governor won by majority vote.... was it "bait and switch"? Don't think so...it was apathetic voters and democracy self-destructing.
Anyway, contrary to what some people may believe or think they want, we will never have total democracy in politics or in business management. We can't/won't/don't put everything out for a voite and sure 'nuf it ain't majority rule.
BUT, democracy must have cooperative participation to thrive and be survivable.
What do I mean by that? Wake up the polticians (elected and otherwise) at this point and ask them to pay attention...
Quite simply, it is people in decision making roles getting as much relevant input and ideas on issues and decisions that they deal with.
It is decision makers seeking out input and opinions from other people WHO WORK CLOSE to the issues and WHO WOULD BE AFFECTED by any decisions made.
(Good Gawd Awmighty, do I REALLY have to tell you this?)
It is decision makers seeking out as much information as possilbe within the time available, to enable any decision made to be as fair and equitable as possible, and in the best interest of the people.
The most important part of the Webster's definition is the idea of striving for "principles of social equality and respect for the individual within a community".
But, and the most misunderstood piece of this puzzle...at the end of all that information and opinion gathering, SOMEONE has to actually make a decision. Democracy does involve someone being in charge and making decisions.
Near as I can tell, "style" comes into play here more than substance. Particularly in the political arena and certainly in Madison, Wisconsin.
These decisions may not be popular. But that doesn't make them bad. "Leaders" really do have to venture out alone and take people where they don't necessarily want to go... because the leader, in his or her heart of hearts, believes that is the right thing to do.
Don't get your hopes up Scottie, I'm really not referring to you here. You've got a ways to go.
The Dog, fresh from sojourn to Key West and visits with Ernie Hemingway and Hunter Thompson, remains groggy as Aerosmith's "Same Old Song and Dance" rips the dust from the microbials...
First thought... ala Hunter, don't confuse democracy with democrats.
Second thought, ala Ernie, the one thing they do have in common is that nobody really understands either of them.
The Dog's basically a socialist democrat with a lot of growing conservative tendencies. An old Dog revolutionary who has a mix of patience, experience, and apathos now running through his veins. An FDR Democrat, an Eisenhower Republican, a George Meany Unionist, who talks to himself.
So, given all of that babble-on... one of the brightest memories of my Boulder education is hearing that democracy and capitalism are two systems that are inherently self-destructive. Ken Boulding was a wise man.
I also remember, and still believe, the line, "leadership must be greatly participative, but it can never be democratic". Sacrilege !! Blasphemy !!! No dears, THE truth.
But, what, exactly, is democracy? Not your theoretical, your reality.
Noah's Webster's notes that it doesn't mean everybody necessarily gets a vote in the way things happen, but it does cite majority rule. A lot of Wisconsites choose to forget their present governor won by majority vote.... was it "bait and switch"? Don't think so...it was apathetic voters and democracy self-destructing.
Anyway, contrary to what some people may believe or think they want, we will never have total democracy in politics or in business management. We can't/won't/don't put everything out for a voite and sure 'nuf it ain't majority rule.
BUT, democracy must have cooperative participation to thrive and be survivable.
What do I mean by that? Wake up the polticians (elected and otherwise) at this point and ask them to pay attention...
Quite simply, it is people in decision making roles getting as much relevant input and ideas on issues and decisions that they deal with.
It is decision makers seeking out input and opinions from other people WHO WORK CLOSE to the issues and WHO WOULD BE AFFECTED by any decisions made.
(Good Gawd Awmighty, do I REALLY have to tell you this?)
It is decision makers seeking out as much information as possilbe within the time available, to enable any decision made to be as fair and equitable as possible, and in the best interest of the people.
The most important part of the Webster's definition is the idea of striving for "principles of social equality and respect for the individual within a community".
But, and the most misunderstood piece of this puzzle...at the end of all that information and opinion gathering, SOMEONE has to actually make a decision. Democracy does involve someone being in charge and making decisions.
Near as I can tell, "style" comes into play here more than substance. Particularly in the political arena and certainly in Madison, Wisconsin.
These decisions may not be popular. But that doesn't make them bad. "Leaders" really do have to venture out alone and take people where they don't necessarily want to go... because the leader, in his or her heart of hearts, believes that is the right thing to do.
Don't get your hopes up Scottie, I'm really not referring to you here. You've got a ways to go.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Super Dog Bowl
Football. Packers. Steelers. Road dog rabble rumble. Even The Dog got into this Stupor Bowl. The best team won. This game was like a dog fight that even Michael Vick couldn't handle. Some of the announcers called it a "blue collar bowl". Nope, sorry, this was a dog bowl from the get-go.
These dogs came back from everything nature and the God Dog could throw at them. Rodgers (note the "d-o-g" hidden in his name...) made Brett Favre a distant memory with just enough emotion to keep the pack moving forward and just enough cool to bring them back from the edge. McCarthy. Now that guy just looks like a dog lover and has just enough hidden bite to make the most rabid foe think twice.
Couple of Road Dog thoughts on the game and post-game babble. Why is everyone so quick to find something wrong? Start with the stupid stuff; like half time. The Black Eyed Peas got critiqued for a less-than-something show. Good Gawd people... these puppies gave their best shot to perform in a zero-acoustic location with 80 bazillion people watching them. As will-I-am (love that name) said, "if critics didn't criticize, they'd just be fans". Good one.
Then the game wrap ups. Can somebody put Ache-man on a shelf some place? Let "Bring me another brew Bradshaw" do the game. Now that guy is an old dog who still throws a good bite every now and then.
Of course, Steeler QB Rottweiler couldn't bring them back to win in the last 2 minutes. Hey guys, so what? He was out there trying, where were you? And, Troy Potowanami wasn't the MVP he was hyped to be. I don't know what game you were watching, but I saw that hair on almost every play.
All of them, on both sides, deserve an extra bowl after that one.
Anyway, enough babble - off for kibble.
These dogs came back from everything nature and the God Dog could throw at them. Rodgers (note the "d-o-g" hidden in his name...) made Brett Favre a distant memory with just enough emotion to keep the pack moving forward and just enough cool to bring them back from the edge. McCarthy. Now that guy just looks like a dog lover and has just enough hidden bite to make the most rabid foe think twice.
Couple of Road Dog thoughts on the game and post-game babble. Why is everyone so quick to find something wrong? Start with the stupid stuff; like half time. The Black Eyed Peas got critiqued for a less-than-something show. Good Gawd people... these puppies gave their best shot to perform in a zero-acoustic location with 80 bazillion people watching them. As will-I-am (love that name) said, "if critics didn't criticize, they'd just be fans". Good one.
Then the game wrap ups. Can somebody put Ache-man on a shelf some place? Let "Bring me another brew Bradshaw" do the game. Now that guy is an old dog who still throws a good bite every now and then.
Of course, Steeler QB Rottweiler couldn't bring them back to win in the last 2 minutes. Hey guys, so what? He was out there trying, where were you? And, Troy Potowanami wasn't the MVP he was hyped to be. I don't know what game you were watching, but I saw that hair on almost every play.
All of them, on both sides, deserve an extra bowl after that one.
Anyway, enough babble - off for kibble.
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