"Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them become what they are capable of becoming." –Goethe-

What are we (am I) becoming?

Change energy abounds. Today is Mary’s Birthday. Yesterday was Brad’s last day of teaching before the summer break. Mary Beth has eighteen hours left to work at A G Edwards before the Tuesday start at Boeing – balancing the backlog of bids by the bombers to make them rapaciously efficacious. Jen has a nameless new dog. There is more, but we shant out the major changers, the moving in-ers and the maybe moving on-ers.

One of the things that fills me with consternation is that I keep missing opportunities to write. More seems to happen than I am able to capture, or at least capture well. My backlog of tell-able stories from the past week alone is somewhat exhausting. And as I feel the details slip away, like flesh melting into the soil, I keep telling myself that the skeleton is enough to remember. But we both know, you and I, that this lesson is one of discipline – you snooze you loose and detail turns to detritus. Especially when alcohol is the enemy of memory and your country is occupied by a band of swarthies under the leadership of a man in a grogram coat; the old grog (developing a personal mythology – don’t mind me).

We went out last night to celebrate some of the above changes and found ourselves at a closed Southern Bell – with new hours, a new menu that focuses on burgers and sandwiches, no piano (where will the queens sing? Singing seems to be taking some hits this month), and perhaps a new owner – the Southern Bell seems to have suffered a northern takeover. We took our melancholic antebellum asses up to Wildflower in the West End proper and enjoyed drinks, appetizers, and the night air. We are mostly off to a mild summer on the heat front, but I have no doubt that our humidity will soon match that of Thailand, between two major rivers the theme is steam.

After several rounds of drinks and a perceptible wane in energy we crossed the road and went to Rosie’s, which is like an odd bit of the ville. In this particular part of the West End you are surrounded by high-end cafés and art galleries, antique stores and chocolateries. Rosie’s is a wood paneled dive where you are encouraged to bring your dog, reflecting a West End that was – a working class wonder that is still peopled with characters of every sort (including us).

After our appetizers at Wildflower, Rebecca walked home to get – (excuse me for a second, MB’s cat Bozo is in a box to my right eating the edge of the box – tearing out hunks of cardboard – is this a cat or a gerbil?) – her horse of a black lab and upon entry into Rosie’s that bartendress exclaimed, “Holmes!” When you are known in a bar by your dog, you are truly known. John bought us a round and we settled into the atmosphere. If you’re an old school K-villian think pre-Hot Spot – think Flamingo (Flaming-O) before the rehab. No two chairs alike, wood paneling, baskets on the tables with self help microwave popcorn still in the wrapper (I took a pack home), mega touch trivia, plastic darts cricket, Johnny Cash/Motown Juke Box, bathroom in the back of a French door closet – step up on a platform to piss and to read the graffiti, “This is the worst bathroom I have been in in my life.”

I have oft observed that I am most comfortable in well-heeled bars and Rosie’s is up there and the heeled list wherein you’re apt to find some gypsy heathin herbal healin. – I’m late for work so other observations will fall by the wayside.

Later -
Still thinking about change energy.

It is precisely because our present life is so inseparably linked with desire that we must make use of desire’s tremendous energy if we wish to transform our life into something transcendental.

-Lama Thubten Yeshe, Introduction to Tantra

Tantra – Sanskrit term derived from loom – implies weaving together threads – focuses on worshiping the active divine feminine Shakti – change energy. Yoga – yuke – to yoke or bind together the mind and body – weave and bind the creative to transcend.

Tomorrow we are going back to the lake.

Fred, "Your writing seems unfocused, half there. Where are you?"

Karl, "On Vacation."