The Negotiator

I have a grandson who likes to talk. Conversation around the dinning table is constant and lead by Walker whenever adult imagination or interest flags. There are countless, and I really mean countless, conversations during the day about his toy sharing plans, potential nap times, determinations of how many books to read before sleep time, what will be eaten, what will be drunk, what will be watched on television, where to spend play time, who should be pushing him on the swing, where others should sit in relationship to his own location, what is the subject of conversation (both those involving him and those which do not), plans for the near future, and ...well you get the idea. Walker is the king of Yickety-Yak. Now don't misunderstand, Walker rarely is outright demanding. His interests and personal desires are usually achieved through a series of seemingly innocuous questions. For example, instead of asking for a piece of the candy he suspects you are sucking on right now, he will ask a series of questions...''What's in your mouth Pa John?''...''Is it good?''....''Do you have more?''....''Would you like me to have one?''....and the closer, ''Would now be a good time for that? Because I'll be taking a nap soon, and you might feel better knowing you shared.''
Walker's logic and conversational skills are really amazing, and often entertaining, for a three year old. When he grows up Walker wants to be a fireman. Mom and Dad are open to any options, but if modelling has any influence on development, he'll likely be an artist or or some such creative professional. Me, I know he'll be a major Negotiator for tactical SWAT teams in hostage situations. This is how the dialogue would go today.

                                 Terrorist
I've got four hostages here and I'll kill them all. I want the cops to pull back...I want a million dollars and a car in one hour OR THEY DIE!
                                 Walker
What if...what if...I get you a train?
                                  Terrorist
TRAIN!? I want a car parked outside, a million dollars, outside the door, one hour!
                                 Walker
I want to play with the car. You can have the train.
                                 Terrorist
What are you!?! Put a man on the phone now!
                                 Walker
You can't have the Thomas train or the diesel, but you can have Percy, no...you can have Hiro. And are there any little boys there?
                                Terrorist
A mother, two boys and a little girl. All dead in one hour if I don't get...
                                Walker
Wait, what if...what if...just listen to me...what if you let the boys come out and play with me...now.
                                Terrorist
ARE YOU NUTS?! You don't make demands, I...
                                Walker
We'll just play for 5 more minutes and then back to you...and...and the boy can bring you the train.
                                Terrorist
I don't want the train! I want the car.
                                Walker
I could let you play with the bus.
                                Terrorist
OK! The BUS! ...One hour or they're DEAD!
                                Walker
Can you send him out now?
                                Terrorist
ONE HOUR!
                                Walker
Why not now? Now we can play. If we play now, we can ride in a bus later. We could...we could...listen to me...we..we could...(long pause)
                                Terrorist
WHAT?...We could what?!
                                Walker
What are you eating? Can I have some nuts and raisins?
                                Terrorist
What? Who are you? People are gonna DIE in here! Money-Car-No Cops-One Hour!!
                                Walker
Do you have pistachios? We should eat. And then play for 5 more minutes. And then...we should...take our nap.
                                 NBC Reporter  (outside the hostages home)
We have activity at the front door!...THEY@RE COMING OUT! The hostages are coming out!! Followed by...the terrorists with their hands in the air. The siege is OVER!

Blue Glass

My daily, morning, summer schedule usually includes a pot of coffee, a couple of hours writing before most folks are up and about, and a walk on the beach. It doesn't matter what kind of weather Scotland is enjoying on the day, but there are a large number of beautiful, sun scattered late mornings on many of them. Often I have the beach to myself, though that isn't a requirement for me to enjoy the activity.

Growing up, I used to see older people on a beach throwing a stone, or moving over the sands with magnetic metal finders searching for small treasures or an ancient lost city. Sometimes there'd be a good Samaritan with a bag, picking up discarded trash. I wondered if I could ever be the guy walking slowly up a beach just to fill my day's hours until another had passed without much to show for it. 'No, that won't be me.', I thought. What an idiot I was (maybe still am...).

I know it all falls under the category of 'stop and smell the roses', but I am always amazed at what I see on the same patch of beach, now that I am filling my day's hours. My beach has the history of an eleventh century church built on the slope overlooking me, and beach landings of Viking raiders on that same stretch of sand. There followed other centuries of settlement fishermen using the beach as their home while they plied their livelihood in the North Sea. I have a vivid imagination and can envision much of this. I putter among the tide pools discovering sea life waiting for the tide to change. Sure, I like the wild-flowers, or the waterfall that runs over the towering, red sandstone cliffs.

 In one of the photo's I took this morning, you can see seagull parents nesting with their young up in a cut in the sandstone. Thinking of seagulls, often, as screeching, feather-covered vermin that poo on my car...I was surprised at the cooing affection they were giving each other up there as they fed and protected the baby feather-covered vermin. Ok...I'll have to adjust my thinking on that issue.

In another photo there is a great blue heron walking through a tide pool looking for breakfast. Look closely, he's there...

However there is a particular activity that employs me on all walks on the beach any more. I search for blue glass. Blue glass is harder to find than green, white, brown, or amber glass. The rarest glass to find is red glass, but I am partial to looking for blue. Since the blue glass is mostly incredibly tiny slivers of the stuff, there are some key procedures that have to be employed. I find myself moving very slowly over a scrabble of small pebbles deposited in various spots on the shore, often stopping to hold my eye on one small portion of the sand....waiting for the right angle of the sun to sparkle up a hint of blue treasure. The shard is often so teeny that I have to dab it up on a finger along with grains of sand, and rub it between my fingers, gently blowing the grains of sand away until I have the shard, or the smooth rounded blue trace of glass that I drop into my shirt pocket for later inspection. Then back to staring at another two foot square of pebble deposit. Some days I realize that I have travelled the length of the beach and not raised my eyes off the sand. Today I finally lifted my head and there was a small boy out walking his dog, standing just ten feet away, looking at me oddly. I'm pretty sure I know what he was thinking. I wanted to say, ''Yeah...so what...it really relaxes me and I just enjoy it!...Ok?''.

I've avoided picking up green or white glass up to now, because I'm a purist, and want to believe that my life has more meaning than the lives of those that just collect the glass that's easy to find. Starting today, however, I am also picking up particularly lovely green and white glass too. 'Hey...it really relaxes me and I just enjoy it!...Ok?!'

Local News from Scotland...Save The Whales

          Excerpt from morning BBC news broadcast...This is why I LOVE news from Scotland...

News Anchor    

                        And now we go to South Uist with Fiona, where there is a pod of mellonhead whales in trouble.

Fiona              

 I'm here with whale expert Calum West, Team Leader of the Cetacean Research and Rescue Unit. Calum, we see a pod of whales out in the water swimming in a tight circle. Can you tell us what is happening? 

Whale Expert    

There is a pod of whales out in the water swimming in a tight circle.

Fiona              

 Is that normal behaviour for whales?

Whale Expert   

Well they seem to be doing it, so I would say yes. It would not be normal if they were out of the water.

Fiona              

Will it become dangerous if they move into shallower water?

Whale Expert  

Well no, not if we don't go into the water with them.

Fiona             

Will the whales be in any danger if they approach shallower water?

Whale Expert   

That would depend on the depth of the shallow water.

Fiona              

What rescue efforts has the Cetacean Research Team made already?

Whale Expert   

We attempted to drive them out of the channel into the deeper waters of the sea. The whales just swam around our boats and returned to this area.

Fiona              

Do you know why the whales did that, or what the whales are experiencing or thinking now?

Whale Expert   

Actually, we have no way of communicating with whales.

Fiona                

What will be done now to try and help these endangered whales?

Whale Expert   

We'll continue our research, and then probably break for lunch, should these whales still be here later.

Fiona              

Thank you Colum. Well that's it from South Uist. We'll be here later in the broadcast for an update on the rescue efforts. Back to you, Devon...

The Reaper

Yesterday, the Reaper pulled into Gardenstown Harbour for the day. The ship has been travelling up the Moray coast stopping at many ports to provide a historical experience for locals, school children and their families. The Reaper is a very large Zulu fishing boat, commissioned in 1902. This design of fishing boat was used extensively in the last century and is, sadly, the last remaining one afloat. The Scottish fishing industry once boasted a fleet numbering near 80,000 zulu designed ships. The hold of the Reaper has been converted into a museum, as well as providing meagre quarters for the current crew of eight volunteers. It really wasn't so long ago that the fishing industry in Scotland's small fishing communities bellied up as a mainstay of the country's economy, but that is a completely different story from recent history. Living in a country that supports its heritage, and the rich culture of it's past generations is one of the reasons I moved to Scotland. I love reading and learning about history. I think people in general, though, have become separated from the lessons of courage, character and sacrifice that past generations have grown up knowing and incorporating into their daily lives. No...this isn't the 'why when I was young we walked through drifting snow...' rant. Rather, it is an expression of a sense of loss. Sure there are great examples of selflessness and courage and sacrifice to be admired from individuals of every country these days, but those stories just don't seem to interest most folks or demand the attention of viewing or listening audiences on our television flat screens, films, computers or blackberries. Any American who has ever watched late night with Jay Leno and listened to JayWalk interviews is appalled by the average citizen's lack of very basic knowledge of their own country and history. And we find that entertaining. Memorial Day is fast approaching in the USA, and most people don't even know what it is we're supposed to remember. Winston Churchill said that a country that didn't know it's own history is destined to repeat it's mistakes. And we do. I doubt that most local students could guess why these boats are called zulus, even if you clued them that the design was first introduced in the late 1870's. Last year, American students finish 23rd in a measure of mathematical knowledge compared to the world's leading countries...28th in science...and 26th in history (including their own!). Surprisingly, US students only finished 1st in one category...confidence.  Yikes! So, I guess what I am saying is take your kids out to a museum, an art gallery, or a location of historical interest. Read up on it yourself so you can model knowledge, curiosity and gratitude.  Tell them about what your grandfathers and grandmothers did and accomplished in their lives. If you don't know...read up.
                             (more on  the fishing industry at  www.scotfishmuseum.org)

The Grand National

What a weekend. I was so lucky to have this experience! Having been introduced to the interests of horse racing last summer by my friend Janet, a former jockey turned horse trainer/owner, she hosted both me and a mutual friend, Phil, to the greatest steeplechase race in the world, the Grand National. Yes, the same Grand National Elizabeth Taylor made world famous in film as a child star. I drove down on a Thursday headed for Lincoln as I wanted to include a viewing of Lincoln Cathedral on the trip.

 I chose to travel through an area of England called the Yorkshire Dales, a beautiful area of rolling pastures, cross-hatched by stone walls, surrounded by rugged, rock faced peaks. Two villages I drove through, only miles apart, were named Giggleswick and Wigglesworth. In comparison though, there were many neighbouring towns with names that were just silly. In some historical circles, this feeds the theory that early Norman town fathers must surely have smoked a bit of the doobage.

Another side trip on the way to Lincoln took me to Nottingham and Sherwood Forest of Robin Hood fame. The legends and many stories of Robin Hood have been an important part of my literary life since childhood and I am a believer. I also clap to show an acceptance of Fairies and their health care system, and leave  a carrot for Rudolph next to Santa's cookies and milk. I discovered the Major Oak in Sherwood Forest. I could clearly imagine Robin, Will Scarlet, John Little and sundry merry men scattered and lounging in it's massive, twisting boughs. This tree is reported to be the secret meeting place of Robin's band of Saxon outlaws. This makes great sense when you see the convenient parking area right next to the Major Oak.

The city of Lincoln sits perched on a solitary bluff overlooking the vast, flat plain of Lincolnshire at its base. Even from 15 miles away on a hazy day you can see the towers of the cathedral rising above the skyline of the city. The streets of the city fall higgledy-piggledy down from the plateau, twisting around the cobble stones, presenting a historical picture of delightful medieval architecture.

 I entered the Cathedral just as the final tours were closing and was able to pretty much have the experience to myself. It is reported to be one of the most beautiful Cathedrals in the country, and I am in agreement. Having just sat down to take it all in, the organ began playing and a single, stunning soprano voice started singing. I was transfixed. A choir joined in. They were all hidden from view by the ornate wooden screen behind the central alter, but the music rolled around and descended on me from all directions.

 I listened to Mozart, Benjamin Briton and Bach. I had stumbled into a dress rehearsal for a concert to be given the next evening. I won't soon forget the experience.

Southport was our home for the weekend of the Grand National. It is a Victorian, sea side family resort complete with beach front Promenade, grand streets lined with wrought iron covered walkways, and many outdoor cafes and coffee shops. Check my Flicker photos for more shots of this stunning city and the weekend in its entirety.

Phil had done a wonderful job driving us to Aintree for the race. However, we parked on a side road several miles from the entrance and racing stands. On the plus side, we had a glorious morning walk along the canal bordering the race course, passing canal boats floating in to moor right alongside the Canal Jump and watch the race from their floating homes.

The Grand National is an event of magnitude. 120, 000 spectators dressed fashionably, punters, horse owners, sports enthusiasts, and the social elite gathered to watch seven races, including the namesake National where forty of the best horses and jockeys in the world compete for the penultimate prize. I have always considered myself a lucky man, and that held true for this day as well. I had picked the winners and a runner-up for the first three races before missing completely on the fourth race. Though I had some good picks for the National, after watching the horses in the paddock prior to the race, I whimsically placed a twenty quid bet on Ballabrigs, a horse from Ireland, on the way back to our seats.

That's how I came to pick the winner of the Grand National, finishing up a most wonderful weekend. As a sidelight, the ladies next to us having an office party outing from their boss, thought I was brilliant. Sorry ladies, just a bit of luck, really.

You Don't Know Jack!

                                                              
There is a  long standing friend of mine...Jack Mettier. We taught together in the art department for decades. We've been through a lot. I don't think Jack would mind my describing him as an often blustering curmudgeon, frustrated by negative influences and quick to realize and be influenced by poor administrative decisions and educational forces that tend to undermine positive, creative efforts of teachers and students alike. He could storm around a campus with all others scampering to get out of his way as he carried his frustrations and angst on his sleeve as well as his lined, scowling face. But you needed to know Jack. He was so creative and inspired creativity in students that stayed with him in his art classes for years. He was a great soccer coach. Jack is parenting his adopted grandchildren at an age most men are happy to hug theirs and then send them on their way with a grandfatherly wave. Jack, who has unsuccessfully and unendingly tilted at educational windmills for an entire career, now culls through endless web humour and inspiration to send me daily the best of his searches, some of which I appreciate completely. He sent me this yesterday...a remembered list of his highlighted fond memories of our friendship. I live on the other side of the world, often feel too remote and disconnected from many that I love, and I, like most of us do (and Jack himself did professionally)...feel marginalized or weighted down by our immediate challenges or failures. This simple list sent to me by a friend, to remind me of our love for each other, has lifted my spirits all week. Take time to write a good friend, a loved one, and remind them why they've been important in your life. It's the best gift giving you'll do this week.

John....a reminder
 Group hugs on the 15^th after my 12^th stroke,

LVC (Law of the Vacant Chair)and Lunch splatter on Timmy’s shirt at the round table,

Camaraderie and laughs at break time,

Single malt treats,

Sneak out lunches with Rich at Lolo’s on Thursdays,

Margie’s worry about us ending up lost in Ireland if we got on the Whiskey Trail,

Agreeing to disagree and then working together for the better good,

Hugs and kisses instead of handshakes,

Importance of humor that is kept and shared,

“Players” never - “Competitors” always!,

“I love babies – let’s go meet your new granddaughter”…..12 years ago,

Sunshine, rainbows, rain and snow, light years of oceans away,

Important memories to keep so that friends are never lost.

Songs

I am writing music, and some of it pleases me. I also have a new program for recording my music and when I learn how to post it on this blog, I will be including several pieces. I look forward to that. I just copied this most recent song onto this post from the inside of a novel I was reading yesterday at the beach with Jack (I actually did most of the reading)...the book with the lyrics now on the inside cover is a great story by Robert Crais, CHASING DARKNESS...having nothing to do with these song lyrics. A line came to me while I was reading, I grabbed a pen and wrote all of this down as is. When I got home, the melody for the song came as quickly, and I actually like the music better than the lyrics. I love to write, but it always surprises me when something jumps onto the page this quickly. I love when that happens in a scrip I write. I almost have to get out of the way as my characters dialogue back and forth far quicker than I can type. Fortunately, many of the characters in my head speak slowly and are willing to repeat themselves for the sake of the page. I hope you'll revisit the blog when I record this in performance.

All The Stars Are Out Tonight

All the stars are out tonight

And I've found one to wish on once again.

Have I used them all before?

Will I keep up my search until the end?

Between the darkness and the light

There are answers to the questions of the heart.

And if I find you there in time

I'll hold you close and never let us part.

Are you out there my love?

Standing 'neath this universe of stars

Searching for me,

Wishing that I'll find you in the dark?

Other lovers came before.

They have brought you to my door.

We'll leave the past behind

For us there will be more.

Are you awake and can you hear?

I can feel you beside me in the dark.