tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19317879554498706792012-02-16T00:28:00.526-08:00Rastafrican KamalohaThe no-mind not-thinks no-thoughts about no-things.DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.comBlogger681100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-66440466493981216202011-11-29T00:46:00.001-08:002011-11-29T00:48:13.468-08:00Just Once...Whenever a new story begins and an old story ends...good times are on the horizon.
Of courses, we all have our own perceptions and preferences and preconceived notions and...
...and I myself love stories that begin, "Once upon a time..." and somewhere down the road end, "...and they lived happily ever after."
If that's not how your story ends, it's not over yet.DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-63735202173065005392011-07-30T03:05:00.000-07:002011-07-30T03:05:34.636-07:00Old and DyingThere is a saying that was planted by our very own poet, Robert Dylan..."those who are not busy being born are busy dying."
The voice of the revolution...and yet hunger is something that is familiar to all of us.
I just want to live a life that was well lived. I want to leave a legacy. At the very least, I want my children to never know what it is like to go to bed hungry.
But my friends, as DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-22039918124868787382010-08-01T06:18:00.000-07:002010-08-01T06:25:55.997-07:00Immortal Yoda
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margin-bottom:.0001pt;DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-50213002930251274982010-05-23T01:43:00.000-07:002010-05-23T01:44:10.550-07:00Death and BolognaI tried to kill myself again last night but once again I didn’t get it right. The conversation went a little something like this…
Me: I thought you were dead?!
Myself: Well, I’m here aren’t I?!
I: Better luck next time.
The facts:
I took a grenade and put it in my mouth. Then I swallowed it whole with a glass of ice cold chocolate Ovaltine.
And I waited…
My tummy started to hurt but nothing. DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-18501803472989048562010-04-30T20:27:00.000-07:002010-04-30T20:27:04.873-07:00Survival Kit
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DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-15478075127715413142010-04-18T21:28:00.001-07:002010-04-18T21:34:41.165-07:00Oobi-doobey-doo, where are you?<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073741899 0 0 159 0;}DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-60646794902572357512010-02-18T23:59:00.001-08:002010-02-19T00:06:37.649-08:00Tibetan Singing Bowl<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; 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<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073741899 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-name:"Normal\,ASSETS Call Out"; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001ptDaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-11616279304671350092009-10-08T00:34:00.000-07:002009-10-08T00:42:15.389-07:00Random Memories<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--><!--[if !mso]> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-1209257875383210612009-10-04T22:12:00.000-07:002009-10-04T22:18:21.748-07:00A Standing O<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073741899 0 0 159 0;}DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-82949612142067796262009-09-16T00:53:00.000-07:002009-09-16T00:57:53.404-07:00Lover's Touch in C Minor I picked up my guitar just the other day…I said hey long lost lover how you been? I have missed you, tell me a story…No one was around, even the mice were sleeping. We talked all night and we were lost in one another's embrace. We promised to stay in touch, to not let so much distance pass between us. We were both lying, but the mask of smiles concealed the inner sadness as we parted our DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-39061103000480457282009-09-07T22:25:00.000-07:002009-09-07T22:28:17.433-07:00Commonplace Commodity<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073741899 0 0 159 0;}DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-20734124287953358102009-09-03T01:04:00.001-07:002009-09-03T01:13:43.544-07:00Four Queens and a Joker<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073741899 0 0 159 0;}DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-53647446147456696012009-08-30T23:48:00.000-07:002009-08-30T23:49:47.944-07:00NIKKAT the Hills
A painted picturedarkness understoodloneliness of thought evil within good
Waves of desireflowing of the minddandelions blowinga world lost to time
Illusions of delusionawareness wet with winedelusions of seclusiona friend of ancient rhyme
Irrelevant suggestions reflections of refrainopiate conclusionsthe sunshine during rain
Subtracting from the abstractdominant frustrationssanity DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-30710394816926578742009-08-29T22:24:00.000-07:002009-08-29T22:26:36.313-07:00Toe-Tapping Jugglers UniteMy ability to juggle seems to have hit an all time low, but I’m-a-tryin!
I guess it’s really all about being able to get psyched for the show, ready for the big game, feet in the stirrups, and all that jazz. I just need a minute, a deep breath, a heavy sigh, and about a teaspoon of gratitude…
So even though my make-up seems to be a little flaking and the dreams within my heart are slightly DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-42102590549106838882009-08-25T21:25:00.000-07:002009-08-25T21:29:48.527-07:00Homecoming
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{DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-91213540734730474642009-08-22T23:20:00.000-07:002009-08-23T13:59:36.399-07:00Strangely Syllabic Sustenance
Strangers know less than what we tell them…and less than half of what they see. Or so the story goes…
A story that isn’t told well loses all of its magnificence to the untrained or uninterested audience.
If we listen, each voice we hear tells its own complicated and fascinating story; its own incredible tale of sorrow and joy, passion and pain, sunrise and sunset.
Often stories that are told DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-22782038233869929902009-08-19T22:30:00.000-07:002009-08-23T14:00:48.845-07:00A Caffeinated Intermission
<!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-sourceDaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-66655253770648815062009-08-19T00:36:00.000-07:002009-08-29T22:30:12.786-07:00Rastafrican Kamaloha (Part II)
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{DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-67541096441416115332009-08-15T19:54:00.000-07:002009-08-29T22:46:13.626-07:00The Party was Off the Hook
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"MS Shell Dlg 2"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-520078593 -1073717157 41 0 66047 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-88195488935022470132009-08-14T02:17:00.000-07:002009-08-14T02:25:23.698-07:00Endless Possibilities, Limited ProbabilitiesMany things are possible; some are even probable.Whatever happens, tomorrow will come. Chances are it is almost here, getting closer with every passing moment.This we cannot change.What we can do, however, after accepting this fact of course, is embrace the opportunity to provide some input into the shape and texture of the future.Embrace the opportunity!Simply said, not simply done.Who has the DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-71363472726967841932009-08-11T23:35:00.001-07:002009-09-01T01:07:41.112-07:00The Shaman Turns One st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-18535899028473351692009-08-10T22:36:00.000-07:002009-09-01T01:10:30.664-07:00Listless Lists<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Arial; mso-fareast-font-family:"DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-42944316302167418622009-08-10T01:56:00.001-07:002009-09-01T01:20:34.636-07:00Confidently Indecisive<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073741899 0 0 159 0;}DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-19876173665857300262009-08-07T01:55:00.000-07:002009-09-01T01:24:58.815-07:00Another Assassination Attempt<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Rockwell; panose-1:2 6 6 3 2 2 5 2 4 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-28918754400052583172009-08-03T00:13:00.000-07:002009-09-01T01:28:39.596-07:00Coffee Can Full of Coffin Nails<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-34370877243342810342009-07-28T23:59:00.000-07:002009-07-29T00:07:24.777-07:00Childish Child-Like LikenessI only want to deviateI want to reach the norm...I see no ready answersNo shape nor any formThe dreams that onceShowed me the light...The wick is goneFor dark is night.DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-30185130263498541262009-07-27T00:37:00.000-07:002009-07-27T00:43:56.724-07:00Random Intuition<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-18015210935400634802009-07-25T23:11:00.001-07:002009-07-26T12:36:30.642-07:00Anti-Nike<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-30283457877425685782009-07-17T20:40:00.000-07:002009-07-17T20:46:08.325-07:00Imagi Fantabulo!(Pronounced: Ee—mah—gee Fawn—tah—boo—loh)Come ride with me for a simple moment. The word of the day is “imagi fantabulo!” It may seem like an entirely made up phrase filled with made up words, and on some level you would be correct. However, if you attempt saying it with a slightly italiano dialectico (<-another made up phrase) you might begin to enjoy the sound of your own voice.Now close DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-85600701681058309902009-07-08T00:31:00.000-07:002009-07-08T00:47:57.439-07:00Kool-Aid Steppin'<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-66785518795880565762009-07-07T00:36:00.000-07:002009-07-07T00:44:35.751-07:00Thin LineFigure eight as double four,Figure four as half of eight.If you skate, you would be great,If you could make a figure eight.That's a circle that turns 'round upon itself.Schoolhouse Rock—1973There are things we learn when we are trying not to think…Seldom are we openly humble to the experience of learning life’s most challenging and valuable lessons.Forgiveness, for example, is one of the most DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-77616370952092543952009-07-06T02:11:00.000-07:002009-07-06T02:23:51.693-07:00Forever Stone
<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-23595032058779207372009-07-04T02:08:00.000-07:002009-07-04T02:30:45.464-07:00In Search of Rhyme and Rhythm
<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-12285188830302181592009-06-30T23:48:00.000-07:002009-07-01T00:28:34.074-07:00The Wine is SweetGe milis am fìon, tha e searbh ri dhìol.[The wine is sweet, the paying bitter.]In my blood and in my veins; the stories of my forefathers have always been and will always remain. Yea, though I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I have known the experience of fearing no evil.In my blood and in my veins I have also felt the dark power of the silencing of the voices of my past…DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-68551499672501196902009-06-29T23:48:00.000-07:002009-06-30T00:17:50.353-07:00Change is EverythingAre you willing to be sponged out, erased, canceled, made nothing?Are you willing to be made nothing?...dipped into oblivion?If not, you will never really change.D.H.LawrenceJust the other day...so many ideas were dancing and toying with me in my mind...just the other day. You know, I sold the pistol long before I ever stopped wearing the holster. Traces of our past are worn as invisible cloaks DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-61088193493700972572009-06-29T00:13:00.001-07:002009-06-29T00:19:02.912-07:00Scooby Snacks!I sometimes have a fragile mind that ebbs and flows like the coming of the tide. Would you like an example? There are songs that I love, that drive the soundtrack of the inner workings of my delicate life history. I think we all have a soundtrack and we all have the need to dance to our own rhythms; deep inside we have our very own sets of lyrics, some in rhyme and some with no reason. The DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-68136735968659106182009-06-21T22:20:00.000-07:002009-06-21T22:25:18.203-07:00While My House Gently Sleeps..."To give your children the gift of courage, show them the depth of your faith." (circa 1999)To be virtuous, you must live up to your words. To be noble, you must allow your actions to speak for you.Remember, the life you live is measured in the moments when no one is around...the true measure of honor is in the depth of the actions you take in sincere humility without the drive for recognition.WeDaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-11488685953167123502009-06-20T20:01:00.001-07:002009-06-20T20:06:39.622-07:00In the Ride Line, WaitingI remember when I was seven years old and was waiting in line for the roller coaster at the state fair. There was a boy my age that was a quadriplegic and when our eyes met I had an experience that I can not describe. To say that I was terribly saddened by the experience would be to try to put a label on something that I am not sure is possible to label.The world changed. My eyes were opened.DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-37232006894374805452009-06-19T19:25:00.000-07:002009-06-20T04:27:48.349-07:00Rain or ShineWhen I found I was able to look myself in the mirror, it no longer mattered what the weather was like outside.The simplicity of the noble life is merely to do the very best at this very moment in the here and now. How many different times and in what different voices have we heard this notion during our lifetimes? Wouldn’t it be nice to live a noble life? I sometimes wish I was a King!The DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-34159469070534067122009-06-18T18:28:00.000-07:002009-06-18T18:48:02.485-07:00Written in PurpleThe world could not see his wisdom. It was so well hidden, but it was there nonetheless. The things in life that were important, the things in life that truly mattered; he had them all at his fingertips: fresh air, comfortable shoes, warm clothes, solace, time, and of course freedom. Strolling leisurely through the park in downtown Denver on a warm summer’s eve, being homeless was not a word DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-66462304530019364162009-06-17T23:58:00.001-07:002009-06-18T00:36:51.803-07:00All Children Have Dreams...When I was a child, one of my recurring dreams carried with it the joy of flight. In this dream all that I needed to do was to bend my legs at the knees and swoosh I was off in flight. The wind blew through my hair and with a little practice I was soon navigating the aerial neighborhood above the small housing community we lived in. Another series of childhood dreams occurred in the vicinity DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-56855318071398844292009-06-16T21:56:00.000-07:002009-06-17T00:09:29.088-07:00All I Wanted Was a PepsiI had a friend once; one of those incredibly handsome, incredibly charismatic, incredibly charming, everything he touched was blessed kind of people. You couldn’t help but like him.He had a bad day and wound up on the wrong side of a pistol, a pistol that he alone was holding. He pulled the trigger, I wish he hadn’t, but he did. No miracles, no divine intervention, just dead and buried and goneDaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-46738097174536966792009-06-15T20:39:00.001-07:002009-06-15T20:46:39.083-07:00Mitakuye OyasinSeveral years ago, in the first season following my tour of duty as an authentic G.I.Joe, I set foot onto a campus of higher learning to obtain a formal education. I was unaware at the time that in life the real learning occurrs outside of the context of the classroom environment. As a veteran soldier, I was abducted by a group of Native American veterans seeking to remember a fallen brother in DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-13976793319115583812009-06-14T21:25:00.000-07:002009-06-14T21:47:55.374-07:00Boom Sham-a-lam-ah!The youngest of my cubs delights me to no end. Spending time in his presence is truly an exercise in non-stop hilarity. The things that make him laugh are nothing more than the common elements of our everyday existence. Through his eyes I am learning to laugh at just about anything, to laugh at just about everything…and it is just about time that I have learned to just laugh about the sound of DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-85316908751177999692009-06-14T00:31:00.000-07:002009-06-14T00:33:19.284-07:00ToleranceWhile I was still knee-high to a grasshopper, I participated in a class project that involved building an ant farm for our class. Everyone was allowed to bring in a jar full of ants on opening day, so I spent the weekend gathering ants while avoiding the temptation to cook them with a magnifying glass.On the grand opening of our elaborate "farm," each of us little first grade hobgoblins lined upDaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-9675351316515402042009-06-13T11:28:00.000-07:002009-06-13T14:53:09.870-07:00Acmena Lilly PilyI would like to take a long dip inside the Acmena Lilly Pily.You are lost. I am not.I have been thinking, and then analyzing, and then attempting to un-think thoughts that are deep rooted in the fiber of the American experience, or my experience, or a combination of both. Pedagogical unraveling still seems to follow traditional paradigms.I would like to quick shift my paradigm and then freeze DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-24576059631222534642009-06-12T17:26:00.000-07:002009-06-12T17:29:40.229-07:00Not Easy Being GreenI remember a time when I rowed the boat from shore. Hallelujah!It was dusk on the river, with twilight setting in as the sunset slipped away behind a horizon filled with trees. It was summer so of course they were all green.How many such horizons has any one of us seen in a lifetime?And as I rowed the boat from shore... Hallelujah!There was a smell of fresh water filling my youthful nostrils,DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-74597096523572495532009-06-12T00:58:00.000-07:002009-06-12T17:44:19.809-07:00Delivery Me This...<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> <![endif]--> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-82492137225826616122009-06-11T17:37:00.000-07:002009-06-11T17:41:36.761-07:00Daily MeditationsI would rather be touched by madness than scarred by mediocrity.Is there anything wrong with taking a moment to acknowledge that some of the thoughts we have entertained over the years would surely mark us as crazy? If the world only knew the things that only we know. There is no need to ponder this notion endlessly, it is either true or it is irrelevant, or both.Whenever we allow ourselves the DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1931787955449870679.post-42711518615647173142009-06-11T00:52:00.000-07:002009-06-11T00:53:50.140-07:00I Blog AloneI enjoy blogging, although I hear that it can make you go blind.DaddyJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05239255194268647713noreply@blogger.com0