More "Tales"....

This is the continuation of the April 28 post........................





So, life with Lee in Southern California began. It was all new and entertaining and Lee, as Dave and I expected, seemed to soak it up. We dove into the huge omelets and pancakes at "Lee's Surfrider" restaurant. Taco burritos at "Taco Bills". Great jazz at "The Lighthouse" and the best Mexican food at Casa Pluido in Redondo Beach. We had a beer or two at O'Shaunessey's pub and Fat Face Fenner's Falloon--(I think really just for the name............) I will never forget Lee's face streaming sweat and tears while happily eating the great food at Casa Pluido!


Soon after, I moved up to Hollywood and then Dave and Lee to Playa del Rey. Lee would sometimes come up to visit or I would wander down for the weekend to soak up the good vibes and sleep to the ocean breezes on Dave and Lee's black coach. Frisbee on the beach, wine "tasting" at Delicato's (HOW did they explain the amount of wine poured!!), pool at The Shack ("give me a bottle of Tunderbyrd and a Shack burger----O YEAH!!" was a politically incorrect cartoon plastered on the wall----we loved it!) and all the assorted beach characters. Great times were had. Somewhere I know I have a photo of Lee and "Big Fine Marcia" walking across the park toward me with 6'2" Marcia's long hair blowing in the breeze and Lee in top form cruising along next to her---walkin along on the balls of his feet and just grinnin' at her-----like a wolf smiling at a sheep----both enjoying the moment...........


Lee seemed to like the occasional trip up to Hollyweird to see what kind of life I was living. He had his first sushi at one of the first sushi restaurants in LA---in Westwood---"Asuka's." I had been introduced to it by my buddy Eric Serena. We went there with a client of his to check it out and I was included because she wanted to talk to me about more jewelry like the items she had purchased of mine at Eric's hair salon. That would be Cher. Yeah, that Cher. What initially was seen as eating "bait" became a lifelong pleasure for him. A whole different dining experience. That restaurant was completely into the whole presentation of sushi and Lee seemed to "get it" immediately.


At one point, I had rented a workshop in the back lot area of Paramount Studios off of Gower St. in Hollywood. Lee came up to visit one weekend and we had a great time wandering the late night streets of Hollywood Boulevard with all of the street bums and "walkers" I knew from my time spent working at a jewelry company on Hollywood and Cahuenga. "Lee?---This is the "Professor". He will talk for hours with you about whatever you want if you just keep the coffee coming" and "Lee?"---this is "Tinker Bell." You will be astonished to find out that "she" is not a "she", and on and on and on.............We had GREAT soul food at "South Town." GREAT Hungarian food at "Paprika." I remember we went to my workshop for a bit to let me finish up a jewelry job, one afternoon, before heading out to the Cinerama Dome to watch the first weeks showing of "Close Encounters of the Third Kind." As I was finishing my jewelry work, Lee stood at my second floor window and watched the grips and stagehands walk by below. I told him that I had been honored the previous week to be "flipped off" by Jane Fonda from that exact location. I had looked out that window one day to see a gorgeous redhead walking by with an assistant following, jotting something down on a clip board. I had instinctively "wolf whistled" her and she had just as instinctively spun around and gave me the finger!! I knew that they were filming the "reactor" scenes from "China Syndrome" on the huge sound stages there but I did not put 2 and 2 together and think that this redheaded beauty could be JANE! I waited and watched a few days for her to come back that same way and, finally seeing her, went down to apologize. Just a "no disrespect intended, ma'am" kind of thing and she was nice about it and brushed it off like she overreacted, too. Lee said, "Really?" You could see that the idea of actually being "IN" Hollywood instead of just hearing about it was something new and fascinating to him. He got a real "dose" later that day when we were leaving and I started to back out my parking space only to wait for 2 people I saw passing along my side of the car. I rolled down my window and said "Hey, Stevie" to Stevie Nicks. Fleetwood Mac was in the middle of rehearsing their epic "Rumours" album on those same sound stages and I had seen and talked to Mick Fleetwood a few times and tossed a casual "Hello" to Stevie in passing. As we pulled away, Lee was all over me "That was Stevie Nicks!! You have to go back, I wanna talk to her!" No, I said, there was that unspoken "code" that I could not break by us going back and harassing her while she headed to the studio. He accepted that but was SO obviously dazzled by the whole thing!!


We definitely had our connections through music. I am still surprised at his varied tastes. Whether it was "Death Valley Tunes" such as The Doors "Riders on the Storm" or "Soul Kitchen" or, of course, a wide selection of Pink Floyd or our beach daze "Blue Note" jazz series, he enjoyed it all. I would call him up and say "It's Stanley Turrentine day here at Chez Sauve and I just put "Salt Song" on." He would say, "Oh MAN! I remember those days!!" Or in conversation, I would say "Any major DUDE, could tell you!" and he would go off on a rant about his favorite Steely Dan songs. Linda Ronstadt? I will say right here and now that she is one lucky lady for never having met Lee. There was some MAJOR lust there! We went to my buddy Don Randy's "Baked Potato" jazz club and I took him probably to one of the best concerts I ever saw. Joni Mitchell at the Universal Amphitheatre on her "Blond in the Bleachers" tour with Pat Metheny and Robbin Ford on guitars, Herbie Hancock on keyboards, John Guerin on drums, Airto on percussion, Tom Scott and his LA Express horn section and Jaco Pastorius on bass. On a warm, soft, summer breeze, LA night under the stars we witnessed..............magic. Plain and simple. Magic...............


We also found we had similar tastes in books----especially those that you think of as only yours. We both enjoyed getting lost in the complete fantasy world of "Lord of the Ring." That series of books provided the perfect escape into a different world when you were having a tough time.I was especially surprised to find that he was a fan of John D. McDonald's detective novels with his central detective/hero, "Travis McGee." There was something of Lee in the charismatic, scarred and worn "salvage expert"/detective/loner that was always helping people in trouble and out there tilting at windmills. I could see it. I could definitely see it....
I must admit that we both connected with the madness and dementia of Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." That story, much to our own amusement, rang WAY too true!


And, of course, if you were going to be around LEE, you had to accept his constant need to be "right." I will admit that I tried not to buy into the game. If you did, it was an endless, no win situation. For me, if you felt you had a better marinade to a steak or the secret to opening a stuck jar or WHATEVER, this was fine with me but of infinite importance to Lee. Part of his "makeup." In fact, with what I will admit was his amazing hand/eye coordination talent, he very well may have had a certain amount of this "righteousness" locked into his DNA. Who knew?


He liked to come visit me at my brother Dave's old cabin up in the mountains of Big Bear---across the lake in Fawnskin while I was there "de-toxing" from my life in LA. We had some old oil lamps there with the tall glass chimneys. We would lite them as the day faded away and get the fire going in the fireplace and spend the night talking and listening to the logs crackle, using the lamps and the firelight as our only light into the night. One morning, as I was cleaning the blackened glass chimneys, Lee said, "You know, if you trimmed those wicks properly, you wouldn't have to do that."..............................................
(I am DEFINITELY not getting into this, I thought) "OK,' I said, "Trim away!" Shaking his head in dismay at my feeble knowledge of wick trimming (How could a loser like this survive up here??), and with a "I'll need a really sharp knife, too" thrown in, he proceeded to trim them-----straight across. "See," he said, "That's the way they should be done!" "You're right," I acknowledged, "How could I have EVER thought otherwise?" "YOU, are now the official wick trimming KING of Fawnskin!!" (we BOW to you oh wick trimming GOD! You genius of all wick activity. A frickin' wick trimming GENIUS you are!!!! etc etc etc....................he smiled in triumphant "rightness"....................


I had been getting back into my acoustic guitar playing after a long ------how shall I put this? ----drug induced---lay over. Working on the old songs that I used to play with my buddy Pete and at assorted coffee shop venues way back when. So, that night, knowing that Lee liked my singing and playing, I started out with "Hesitation Blues" ----basically an identical version to Hot Tuna's---suited to single guitar. Lee liked that one, so for my next, I said "and this ones for you!!"---sliding into "Keep your lamps trimmed and burning"-----again, a Hot Tuna song but originally done by Reverend Gary Davis. Hot Tuna souped it up a bit but I had dismantled it and taken it back down to the "longing to come home" song that it originally was.........
Lee sat there with a big grin on his face and, when I was finished, said, "Thanks for that".......
I knew a thing or two about keeping them burnin' myself and just wanted to get the message across....................
GOOD times were had and, of course, a bit of danger thrown in there to spice things up every once and a while..........
I do recall coming back from some excursion with Lee in his big red and white Jeep pickup and getting into some argument/cutoff/bumper tag/hassle with this little jazzed up green car full of ----hmmm?----how do I put this properly??-----latinos? heading off across the diagonal raised road heading over the marshes to Playa del Rey. Lee road their bumper for a while and took it as far as he could until they motioned us over and Lee obliged. "Now what?", I said. "Fasten your seatbelt, " Lee said as he very slowly slipped into the lowest 4 wheel drive and started to creep forward as, first the driver, and then the other 2 of our newest acquaintances got out of their little green "pinata." Lot's of rolled shoulders and hand gesturing was going on as the first of them got to the front of our hood. That was when Lee floored it and, blasting past them, slammed into their back end and pushed their little car down into the ditch. They were running around like pissed off fire ants as Lee backed up, gave them a hearty wave, and headed back home to the beach..............."adios muchachos!!!"


I can proudly announce right here and now that i am a proud member of the "R.O.D.W.L." Club. That would be the "Rode one down with Lee" Club...
Now------I had heard of a few motorcycle related "dust ups" that Lee and Dave had been involved in, so was not completely unaware of the potential danger involved when Lee showed up at my Hollywood apartment one fine morning and announced that he had 2 tickets to the Dodgers game and that we should take his bike for a ride down to the game. "What could go wrong?", I thought as I grabbed my heavy Levi jacket, donned his spar helmet, crossed myself and headed off to the game. Now, for those of you who don't know, the Moto Guzzi motorcycle is basically an Italian "cop" bike. Strong and smooth. Not too big but certainly able to handle carrying 2 medium/heavy men down to a ball game. I then lived in Beechwood Canyon up by the Hollywood sign, so we headed out east from my apartment down through the side streets to the Riverside Freeway---heading south to Chavez Ravine and Dodger Stadium. As we powered down the on ramp of the freeway, getting it up to about 55mph and over into the 2nd lane, the rear tire blew. Not "lost air." Blew. As in BAMMMMM! And we were immediately fishtailing all over the place. By about the 3rd swerve, Lee yelled, "PUSH OFF!", which I did, doing a kind of back shoulder roll, whacking my helmet on the pavement and rolling almost to a standing position until I rolled forward---realizing that I was now facing BACK into on coming traffic on the Riverside Freeway------------without a vehicle to protect me. The car heading right for me hit his brakes and squealing his tires (and, of course, this was LA! yelling at me as he went by---- "YOU ASSHOLES!!! GET OFF OF THE FREEWAY!!" Ah yes, why did I ever leave?) just swung over into the next lane as I stumbled back to help Lee get the motorcycle off of his pinned left leg. Cars whizzing by us at 65mph, we eventually ended up stopping traffic in the right lane and pushing the bike off the freeway and down the ramp to a gas station where we could secure it. Our day was done and the bike in need of repair so we took a taxi back to my apartment. A cracked helmet, a torn jacket, a few scrapes and bruises and a bottle of tequila later and all was well. Such was life with Lee..................
It wasn't Lee's "bad" energy, I will admit right here---- things just seemed to "happen!"
At that time, I had a 1967 Citroen DS21 Pallas---basically a French "Cadillac" with leather and wood interior, soft "living room" like seats, and an amazing hydraulic system. I had the idea to paint it a bright "Corvette" metallic blue which turned it into a modern version of some "Buck Rodgers" mobile and made it a "statement" car like no other. It had a 5 level hydraulic suspension that could be raised or lowered as you drove to adjust to speed or road condition---from ground level to about 18" higher than usual. Lee loved for me to pull up next to some East LA "Cholo" in his lowrider Chevy and show him what FRENCH hydraulics were all about !!! Like some kind of spaceship coming in for a landing. One time, we were rolling down some LA freeway when the truck ahead of us started to lose his load of 2 X 4s. Lee saw it first and said "Slow down, here, slow down." I reached down and raised the lever that adjusted the suspension up to its highest level---just in case we had to drive over the boards. The first board kind of slid off and spun off to the right. I was trying to get over into the next lane to my left to get away from this guy but, again, this being LA, no one would let me in. (I was getting looks like "I hope you get that board stuck in the front of that fairy wagon, you stupid Frog" or something like that............) As I finally started to edge over, the second board came loose but this one caught and did a kind of "baseball bat" bounce, end to end, and then finally bounced way up in the air. I dropped the suspension down to its lowest as the board came spinning right over our head, just missing us. Lee looked at me and said, "Your damn car just DUCKED under that board!! I LOVE this thing!!"
I could go on and on with endless "tales" of our times together but I'll wrap this up here. I had some of my best times with Lee. Standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon, all alone in a snow storm. Tossing the frisbee back and forth in the sunset sand of Playa del Rey beach. Walking through the springtime forest with the light angling sideways through the mist and my dog Jake desperately chasing bunnies up the path through the trees ahead of us. "White shorts" golf on the back "9" of Furnace Creek golf course in Death Valley at 6am.(called "white shorts" golf because, well, after a few days in the desert sun, from a distance, it looked like we all had white shorts on when, in fact, we had nothing on at all) Quietly staring into the "firecaves" in the fireplace at Fawnskin as the light dwindled and the flames flicked around the remaining logs and, of course, walking the rim of "The Crater" in Death Valley, through the vast, silent dawn, with Lee sticking his favorite flowers up in his hat.
I've had people ask me if I believe in God. I usually dance around that question by saying that I'm not so sure about that, but I do know that there is some form of afterlife, or a heaven if you have to call it that. A place where entities or memories, or energy from our lives exist. I know this because I KNOW that my dogs are there, patiently waiting for me. My Dad is sitting there smiling and my Mother wondering, "Is that my Tommy?"
And now, I know, that sitting there, in front of the fire, is my buddy Lee.
Keep the lamps trimmed and burning, pal. I'll be there with "Tales to tell, buddy, tales to tell."


Lee R. Bowman died May 4, 2009. His ashes will be spread in his beloved Death Valley on May 3 & 4, 2010 by family and friends who loved him and miss him as much as I do. I cannot join them , so honor him and his memory with these stories. There will not be another like him.

Tales to tell................

A year ago, about this time, I got a phone message from my old buddy, Lee Bowman. "Hey, Mott! (his private name for me---taken from the family info that I had, as a child, carved or written "MOTT" into everything I could around the house. Some kind of dyslexic/"Killjoy was here" take on my name----anyway) What's goin' on? Just checkin' in", he said. "Give me a call some time."



Not much else is needed when it's a call from a friend of almost 40 years. Things are accepted or understood with that long of a friendship that don't need explaining. No--- "this is what I mean by that" is needed. Nor is any immediate return call required. No feelings are hurt or frustration involved if I did just that---call back "some time." Over the past 20 years or so, since our friendship had become more one of phone conversations rather than direct contact, there was always that or a similar phone message intro "Hey! What the hell is goin' on!" to which my response was usually "Tales to tell, buddy, tales to tell." And we would "have a talk" going over a bit of everything past and/or present with more and more emphasis, lately, on "Oh man, do you remember when we.................." Yup-----I remember................



Before that time, my brother Dave, Lee's best friend/pal/compadre/whatever-----"Pancho" to "Cisco"/"Cisco" to "Pancho"-----had repeatedly made the statement that he was worried about Lee. He was "circling the drain". An ugly term. I had heard that used in some ER/hospital TV drama and didn't like it, but I got Dave's concern. My response was that we ALL were "on our way down" in one way or another and that there certainly was no way that anything could be done "about" Lee. Lee was Lee. (Or, as put in one of his favorite movies, "The Deer Hunter"----"This is THIS! This isn't anything else----THIS IS THIS!") Lee would eat Big Mac's and fries, have a shot of whiskey to start his day, smoke a cigar to finish it off, go on and on to me about the big ole steak he was gonna BBQ or the bottle of red he needed to "crack." He had always been that way and there was no way of preventing him. Older, heavier, and mixed in with diabetes and injured ankles or knees it all created a much slowed down lifestyle. No matter what, though, Lee was always gonna do things his way.



And so it was, that when Dave called me on May 4th of last year and said, "Lee's dead", I was really not so much surprised as .....saddened. "I just got a message from him last week!", I said. As if that was gonna change anything. So. There it was. In the moments after and repeatedly ever since, I have thought and said that at some point in our lives we start losing friends that simply cannot be replaced. In fact, it is simply a matter of years spent as friends, that we CANNOT replace a friend of 35+ years. Meet some unique individual NOW that you can build a lasting friendship with and they will have to live to 92plus---right along with you ---to reach the "35 years" mark. And there is simply no way possible to experience all of the "learnin' it" times together that naturally comes along with 2 people who have known each other since their early 20's on---and especially through all the changes of the past 40 years---1969 to 2009.



And besides all of that---there will simply not be another Lee.



I first met Lee through my brother Dave back in Dearborn, Michigan. My understanding was that they were pals from their Post Office work together and other "connections"-----baseball, hockey, motorcycles, "brown liquor" and assorted other competitive sports such as horseshoes, pool, bocci ball, bullshitting and, that time honored tradition of plain old stubborn arguing. Detroit friendships involved a certain amount of verbal harassment. To those uninitiated, it can best be witnessed in the recent Clint Eastwood movie "Gran Torino." Clint's got it right with his character and his pal the barber. That---- "Are you still overpricing me for these haircuts, you spic sonofabitch?" "The price hasn't changed in 20 YEARS, yuh dumb cheap polack!" "I'll see ya next week, ya basterd!" way of camaraderie was Dave and Lee's way.



I do recall going with Dave, Lee and the "usual suspects" to a number of Tiger baseball games at Tiger Stadium---a few blocks from Dave's house near downtown Detroit. These were always great times. Lots of laughs and general fun. Bleacher seats with local madmen like Dirty Dinky (some smelly old bum who had the weird habit of autographing your program when you went on a beer run or to the "head"---Yur pal, DIRTY DINKY) Sitting in the outfield bleachers, lubricated by a few beers, sitting back and listening to the endless shouted harassment of the opposing teams players by Dave and Lee were perfect ways to spend a day at the park. "You can't catch, you jerk!"etc etc...................but all mixed in with a lot of laughs and amusement.



Soon after those days, Dave and I moved to the southern California beach town Hermosa Beach. Dave did his best to talk up the whole "good vibes" of the area to Lee, so that when we went back to Detroit for sister Jeanne's wedding, it was decided that I would drive back with Lee---via New Orleans---in his much loved blue Bronco. We were towing some patched together goofball trailer with his Moto Guzzi motorcycle strapped on. Thus began the lifelong and assorted "vehicle experience" with Lee. The hitch "tongue" on this trailer had a crack in it that we kept trying to get repaired but Lee assured me that there was "NO problem." A "road trip" is one of the best ways possible to establish whether a friendship would "work" or not You get to adjust to each others rhythms and roll along with their idiosyncrasies and match up your tastes in music, scenery, food to stop for and jokes to tell. Stories are created and lived together. We did an all night "blast" down from Detroit to the "Big Easy" with all kinds of tales and lies, laughs and moods, stimulants and snacks and lots of great music. I remember rolling along down through Mississippi as the sun started sneaking up over the pines with the Allman Brother's "Blue Sky" coming up on the tape player. Lee said, "That's good stuff---turn it up." I obliged and got it up just right------"Good ole Sunday mornin', bells are ringin' everywhere. Goin' to Carolina, won't be long till I'll be there"..............yeahyeah.........



We had Lee's little black Cockapoo pup "Gretchen" along with us sitting up behind us on top of a pile of Lee's stuff. We rolled into New Orleans and she got to go for a "walk" with us down Bourbon Street up on Lee's shoulders or wrapped around his neck. It was Mardi Gras and we had ourselves a good time wandering around catching the sites. Lee walking down the middle of Bourbon Street with that cute little puppy on his shoulders---bouncing along on the balls of his feet--a big "Burt Reynolds" grin on his face and all the girls coming up goin' "Oh, what a cute doggie" OH yeah. CUTE puppy. An irresistible combo those two. On our last night in town, we decided we needed to regroup in some motel before heading out west the next day with brother Dave and his girl Linda in their van. Everything was booked and after the 2nd or 3rd try we found some "no tell motel" that said they would rent us a room that was being renovated for half price if we didn't mind the repairs, etc. "Perfect", Lee said. We headed up to the room with little Gretchen" trying to poke her head out of Lee's shoulder bag. All motels were "NO PETS ALLOWED" but, as usual, to Lee there was the invisible words under that which said "Except Lee Bowman". I was soon to find that those invisible words would appear on the bottom of "One Way" signs, "Do Not Enter" signs , and all kinds of others for the rest of my times with Lee. Rules? There were no rules. ("Badges? We don't have any badges. We don't need any stinking BADGES!!")



We collapsed exhausted and woke up in the morning to find that little Gretchen had gotten bored (or maybe frightened by our snoring) and tore and shredded a 4 ft wide hole in the carpet! We snuck out of there and were OFF!



Life with Lee was always entertaining but sometimes a little MORE so than I would have preferred. Out on the open road heading west through Louisiana, Lee asked me to find a packet of carrot cake that someone had given him ---tucked somewhere in the pile in the back seat. As I started looking, it was apparent Gretchen also was interested. Things were getting a bit confusing with me trying to look while Gretchen dug away, so Lee decided that he had to get involved----while driving, of course. He kept turning around and we were both doing our best when we heard the loudest "BRRAAAAAAAAAMP!" and looked up to see ---GRILL! Just the tubing and the oval "Mack" symbol of a semi truck grill! Lee wrenched the wheel to the right and spun us off of the shoulder and into the soft gravel on the edge, trailer, motorcycle and all. If we hadn't hit the gravel---which dragged on the trailer and slowed us down---we probably would have flipped the whole damn rig. Eyes the size of golf balls, I believe is the term.......



That whole trip provided story after story enjoyed together. We ended up heading down to the southwest corner of Texas---at night---driving down into the Big Bend National Park to camp. Driving along in the dark, we thought we noticed something moving off to the right of us. I shown the spotlight Lee had on the Bronco over to our right and was amazed to find that we were being "paced" by a huge herd of javelins running along parallel to use through the night. We finally parked in the wild wind and pitch black night and tried to stake down a tent in the hard rock. Dave and Linda were safe in their van but our tent was flapping around and blowing all over the place. We finally secured 2 or 3 stakes up front and left the remainder to blow about us inside. Somewhere during the night, I woke up to take a piss and went downwind from us a few feet to use what minimal wind block the tent provided and to prevent "hosing" myself down. I tried to secure a few more stakes but gave it up again. When I got in the tent, Lee grumbled, "Next time piss a little further away from the tent. I could hear you like you were right next to us" After a rough night, we got up in the morning to the most magnificent view and realized that the hard rock we were trying to stake into was the top of a cliff that fell off about 10 more feet BEYOND where I had been that night relieving myself! "You wanted me to go where?" I soon learned that there was my way and then there was Lee's way-----and maybe it might be best to consider the source before going along his way.



And so it went---- on and on.............to Southern California-----tomorrow...................

The "short" version......

Well, yes, point proven that I DO ramble on at times. You would never know from some of my posts that I am not only a fan of ALL written information, but especially a fan of the "short story". There is a certain unique talent to the literary "short story". Getting the point across and complete in a shorter version takes an understanding of structure and phrasing that can be overlooked in a longer "novel" form. Drawing the story out to the eventual "punch line" ending can create that "I couldn't put it down" excitement of a well written novel but even our most famous novelists have acknowledged the special thrill involved in the short story format.
Ernest Hemingway---certainly one of the most highly acclaimed novelists of the past century---and not exactly known for the "shortness" of his story's, was, as legend has it, once challenged to write as short a story as possible. He wrote: "For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn."
Perfect!
The short story forces the reader to use their own mind to help create the story. I had read somewhere recently of a college literary class that had been studying the plot lines and structure of recent books like Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code". Dan Brown's writing style takes three or four points of interest and wraps them all up in a single story structure. History, religion, mystery, art, secret societies and maybe even an attractive woman all get mixed together and drawn out through his LONG, but very entertaining, novels. This college class was challenged by the professor to write a short story using as few as possible of the basic fundamental subjects. Though many stories were submitted, chosen as the best using Religion, Sex, Royalty and Mystery was: "Oh God, I'm pregnant!" said the Queen, " I wonder who did it?"
I used to joke years ago that I could write a short story, modern version of the standard "Fairy Tale": "Once upon a time, a long time ago, they lived happily ever after."
And with that, I'll cut this short.....................

A "Simple Solution" included in Today's quote:

"Speak little. Do Much" Ben Franklin

Dog people.........

The amazing bond that occurs between dogs and their human companions is, at times, unexplainable. ("human companions" is not quite right but "owners" never seemed right to me either) Yes, I may have paid a price to purchase my dog (s), but somehow there was a "selection" process that went on that had far more to it than "I'll take that one."

What is it that makes us choose the one we want? If it is from a litter of pups, they all may look the same but from the moment that something "clicks" with one of them, we are done for! Do you choose "the loner"? The "bruiser"? The "cutest"? or?? You just know when you pick them up that one of them is "IT". If you are selecting from a Humane Society, then there are all kinds of different ages and types but ONE will call out to you (and bless you for helping them out of their lonely situation) And I have often wondered "What is that----look---they give you?" One dog will just glance at you or glance past you and give it no further thought but another will stare. My buddy Leigh's dog Rocket has looked at me ---and then actually opened his eyes wider, taken a step closer and "LOOKED" into my eyes like some kind of doggie mind meld. "You will give me a biscuit---they're in the cupboard right over there!" Weird.....

And dogs---even a dog we have never seen before---will "know" that you are a "dog person" and, therefore, good for a "hello" or a pet or a biscuit or something. With the variety of Art Fairs I have been doing the past few summers, there have been numerous times when I have been the witness of this connection. In slower times at my booth, I will stand out front and watch the people and their dogs walking by. Many times, while the people are standing talking to friends or looking in my neighbors booths, a dog will suddenly "zero" in on me, his face will change and he will get this look on his face like "Hey! a dog person!" I have gone over and pet there heads or praised their fabulous fur or whatever seems to work. NEVER has there been a problem of "Don't touch me!" or "Stay away". They know---I'm one of them.

Maybe we have, in some way, opened our minds---or a section of our mind----to "dog energy." OK---that sounds a bit weird but how do we explain that connection that we have with dogs? Sure, they want to please us----or, at times and with some dogs, get us to do things for them. I would bet that every person out there with a dog has found themselves, after a bit of circling and whining and staring, in the car with the dog taking them for "a ride." And, come on, admit it, not a ride YOU thought you had to take.

As we all know, dogs do the most amazing things. To amuse us? or just to amuse themselves? or maybe a bit of both. They must know that when they make us laugh then the "energy" in the room is just plain "positive" and all will be well. As with Rocket, I can joke about it but there is definitely some kind of mental or whatever connection that goes on with us and them. My big Collie dog Jake was a big, beautiful tri-color with a big white ruff and a very regal bearing. Definitely with a mind of his own, he would get away with things that no other dog would, simply because of his appearance. He was known for going off for a "wander" every once and a while in Lake Tahoe where we lived. It got to where the Humane Society would see him walking along, pick him up, and, after the first time or so when I paid a fine and went to the station to pick him up, they would actually just bring him by and drop him off----usually with him sitting in the front SEAT! "Oh yeah, Thanks for the lift! See ya next time" he seemed to say as he jumped out and walked by me into the house. "Hey, what's been happenin'?" They called me once and told me he was at the station and could I come and get him. I drove down there and walked in. No one was up front so I started to walk down the hall to the kennels and office. Before I could even say anything, here comes Jake around the corner from the office, by himself, walking down the hallway to see who was coming in the front door. "I'll see who it is!" He got about halfway down the hall---saw it was me---and without missing a step, turned around and headed back to the office!! "OHOH---troubles here!!" We had a great "equals" kind of connection. Always having been shy and a bit of an introvert, he was my alter ego---outgoing and everyones friend. I had trained him well with all of the "sit, stop, lie down, stay, come here" commands and he was actually very quick and smart about all of them. I always train my dogs to STOP completely when I yell their names really loud. Jake would literally "freeze" half turning with one leg in the air like some kind of cartoon dog-----and then come over to me wagging his tail like that was the funnest thing to do. "Freeze me again, Dad!" But it has seemed not like programing but just lessons in "this is what works for me". Like an agreement of "this is how we communicate."

And speaking of communicating. Some research study a few years back said that the most intelligent breeds of dogs can understand up to 124 words. Now-----that's a lot of words. I always love these studies. What happens with the 125th word? Is that when your dog looks at you and cocks his head from side to side? "Artichoke?" "Let's see-----it has "choke" in it---I kinda remember some kind of thing over my neck to go for a walk-----"collar" goes on when we go for a walk----cool!! we're going for a walk" Or is it more like "no you can't have a SCOOP of ice cream"------wait-----SCOOP?---that sounds like POOP------well, ok, I was just hoping for some of that white stuff and I really don't think I have to but----why are these creatures constantly going on about POOP? They must really like it---their always picking it up!

As we all know, dogs have selective hearing. When they do not want to hear what you are saying, every ONE of those 124 words are gone. Huh?

I am always surprised by the "extra" a dog will give. They are all about giving. Mix in play and or your wish for them to do something and they are in it 100% Unfortunately, if it is some bad habit they get into like digging or tearing things up, you will get that same 100% but in the wrong direction. But get a dog to do something they love and you get this:

Take a good look at that photo----look at the extension on that dog!! This is from the Eugene, Oregon paper about a little 12 year old girl who entered her dog in a jumping contest. "He just likes to do it", she said. ..........I GUESS SO!!

One night in Lake Tahoe, I got a call from the Humane Society. "TOM, can you come and get Jake? We have him here." "No, you don't" I said. "Yes, we do" "He is right here in front of me", I said........."Then we have his brother here and we have had him for the past 3 days and he is due to be put down. He was found in the forest all alone." So-----I went down there. Knowing full well that they KNEW they did not have Jake and felt compelled to call me about this one. When I got there, I found out why. Here was an older version of Jake. Skinny and boney from too long on his own. With the saddest eyes...........He just looked at me. Not a sound. Just stood and looked. So........................"Luke" came home with me. How could anyone have abandoned this sweet old guy? In the forest, in the winter. Jake did not know what to make of this new addition but I put a blanket in front of the woodstove and sat down with him and allowed them to check each other out. Luke was very hesitant at first but he then became my "shadow". He would literally walk with his shoulder rubbing against my calf. And follow me from room to room. It was an interesting challenge to me to figure this guy out. He was an older dog that I had not trained. For all I knew, his previous owners spoke Spanish and he had no idea what I was saying. In the winter, sitting in the room reading a book or watching TV with the wood stove burning, Jake would curl up in his bed but Luke would sit down in front of me and just look at me. Not like he needed anything---just look. I would stop and look back and think "what are you trying to tell me?" One day, at a spring time party at a friend of my brother Dave's, I found out. It was a nice warm afternoon with the variety of party goers children playing with hoses and such in the back yard. Jake was doing his usual of wandering amongst the people there making friends. Luke was doing his usual-----standing near me, quietly watching. I was sitting in a chair in the shade, when two young boys came running up near me and, with toy guns in their hands, made "Bang, bang" shooting sounds with their mouths. To my right, just beyond the boys and slightly out of my sight, Luke fell over! I don't mean lie down, I mean FELL OVER! I got up and went over to look at him and he was laying there kinda squinting, looking around with his one visible eye. ??? "Get up, Luke" I said and he did and came over to me. The boys were standing there looking at me like "I didn't mean it Mister!" I told the one boy--"Do that again---with your gun" He aimed and went "BANG! BANG!" And Luke fell over like he had been shot! I had a circus dog!! He was suddenly SO happy with himself. He did that all afternoon and also rolled over and over and a few other little tricks (one kinda jump up and spin in the air to catch your tail that obviously was a bit difficult in his old age but was probably quite the trick when younger) Who knew? He was SO pleased with himself and when I got him home I thought "Is that what all of that sitting and staring was all about?" Had he been wondering how to get it across to me? Come on---say bang bang---have I got a surprise for YOU!!

My female Collie "Becky" was a very quite, very sweet old loving soul. Not much would get her going---she rarely ever barked or even made a sound---which made me REALLY pay attention if she did. Here's a good example of when a dog wants you to"pay attention": I always walked Becky "up" my little street here in Maui before going to bed. By this time, she had acquired her slow, matronly. older dog walk. There was a small incline up to the end of the street which then curved around to the left and continued on. I would walk her up to that turn and come back. When we turned, we would have a few of the sky through the palm and other trees lining the street. This night, as we were coming back, it was pitch dark with just a few faint stars but no moonlight. As we were heading down, I kinda glanced ahead and noticed that there was a slightly "blacker" area of sky between the two rows of trees. Not really giving it any attention, my mind kinda did a quick "checklist" kind of "Is that a big bird just glided across?" No---no bird that big. "Maybe a kite stuck in a tree" At night? I didn't hear it or notice it in the way up. "A plane, maybe?" Nope, no lights or noise. And just that quickly two things happened---this "blacker" shape moved further down the tree line in front of us and---Becky did this real, low threatening "urrrrrrrrrr!!!" and the hair went up on my neck-----as this "darkness" now with a front straight edge--moved off to the right. OK----- a wedge shape like a B1 Bomber---a cloud that in the darkness looked like it had a straight edge---a bit of light illusion played out with car lights and building shadows reflected up the street---whatever......I don't know what was happening there and really think I would have just explained it off......but Becky was the one that freaked me out. That "don't fuck with me" low growl got MY attention BIG TIME!

It is, of course, the cruelest twist of fate to only have these wonderful creatures in our lives for 14-16 years or so at the most. Such companionship, love and devotion should last so much longer. They must wonder why we remain so healthy and strong while they get weaker and slower. Maybe that is why "health care" dogs are SO very helpful and gentle around sick people. They know how much it helps and sense the pain and longing. In my saddest times, I have felt so much better to have my dog with me. And when our dog is ill or dies before it's time, with their passing we feel an emptiness that no human word or touch can replace. We end up with a big hole in our heart. And, we all understand that only another dog will help repair that hurt.

My dog Lani did just that after "Becky" died while I was on vacation in Italy. Though I had played music and traveled quite a bit for two years after Becky died---and told friends that I was not ready for another dog just yet----I one day found myself, for some reason, at a breeders house looking at her two remaining Australian Shepherd pups. I actually was telling her that I really was not interested (Then why are you here?) while I reached down and picked up this white little ball of fluff with the brightest blue eyes. Done.

Being the "dog person" I am , I had made the connection even before I knew what I was doing. Recently, I watched a buddy of mine with his new puppy out in the park. Jeff's dog of 13 years, Bear, had died 5 minutes before Jeff could get home from a Holiday trip. I had not spoken with him but knew how crushed he was and had heard that he had taken the "not for a while" stance. But here he was with a new pup. And watching this puppy so completely focused on him and with that mindless puppy rolling and chewing and playing energy and seeing the smile on Jeff's face told me---this had to be. Jeff was a "dog person" just like me and he really was not complete without his furry companion.

I realize that I just noted some great stories about dogs (which, is another important thing about being a "dog person"-----telling amusing stories about their dogs) but really have not explained about or gotten closer to whatever that bond or connection is. I know that it is a comfort and joy to me to have a dog by my side and in my life and really don't understand people that don't "get it". So---count me in when it comes to dog people. I'm one of them.

(which actually leads to today's "Simple Solution". I dated a lady in the time between Becky's passing and my getting Lani. I had actually met her through a friend that had house set with Becky and knew of my love of dogs. So, I was a bit surprised that she casually mentioned that she was glad I did not have a dog because I would probably pay more attention to it then to her. That was an odd one, but I do recall mentioning that there was really nothing to worry about as I did not have a dog. As with any relationship, as time went by and the "layers" were peeled back, I found that there was more than a dislike of dogs involved with this -----in fact, it was not about dogs at all but just a "pay attention to me" insecurity. And, it appeared to be something that there was really no way to "fix". So, when she finally, again, made a more definitive statement of "If you get a dog, I won't have anything to do with you", I found that a "simple solution to an everyday problem" had been presented to me. And that, as they say, was that!

TODAY'S "Simple Solution": Get the dog!

(2 weeks later, I had Lani----problem solved!!)

Today's quote:

"A dog is the only being that loves you more than you love yourself"

Fritz von Unruh

Our "Hero" problem....

It seems to me that our American society has a "hero" problem. Actually, probably better defined as a "need to have a hero" problem. The word is used as an "anointment" far too easily and tossed out to someone without enough thought as to what it really means.

Here is the definition from my trusty old Random House "College Addition" dictionary:

hero: 1. A man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities. 2. A man who is regarded as having heroic qualities and is considered a model or ideal. 3. A type of sandwich made with a small loaf of Italian bread.

(OK---#3 is probably best included in my "simple solution" section below)

America had a pretty good idea of what a hero was back in my Father's time. Those young men that signed up to go to war to defend our country after hearing of the attack on Pearl Harbor and ended up in some hellish battle on an island in the Pacific. Or those boat loads of young soldiers who were heading toward the beaches of Normandy---knowing full well what they were heading into and knowing that it was going to be a day when every single one of them would "hear the call"-----there is no doubt, to me, that heroes were amongst all of them.

Growing up, I knew what a hero was. He was some kind of cross between a fireman, Superman, The Lone Ranger and the pool guardian who helped pull me out of the deep end when I just could not finish that last required lap. Kinda.....................

We have all heard tales of local people who suddenly jump down onto the Metro tracks to save a man having a seizure or just recently a young man that dove into the water to help save a baby. Those actions are certainly heroic and worthy of the title.

But I have suddenly become aware of the endless stream of "heroic" comic book "superhero" movies. What started with Superman--then Batman---has turned into a torrent of X-Men and Ironman and soon, Green Lantern. We seem in search of heroes---even imaginary ones.

And then we have the "news story" heroes of the day. Pilot "Sully" Sullenberger is a good example. Now, certainly he did a phenomenal job of bringing Flight 1549 down smoothly onto the Hudson River in New York. But I do agree with him---it is his JOB!! Let's not forget that his years of training preparing for that exact event---or any variation of emergency landings---allowed him to pull that off. And he was ON THE PLANE himself. I cannot imagine after all of the years of training ANY pilot in that situation would suddenly unbuckle and go running toward the back of the plane screaming "WE'RE SCREWED! EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!"

His co-pilot has repeatedly stated how calm and controlled Sully was but I bet somewhere in there he was saying "Come on, baby, glide, baby, glide" In the end, a good job, well done.

I actually began to feel bad for him when at the podium of some college, I saw him say once again, "I was just doing my job".

Which brings me to ------sorry, you probably were hoping I wouldn't go there-----the latest word from "The Master's" in Augusta. In the annual media address before tomorrow's opening round of the Master's , Augusta national chairman Billy Payne was quoted as saying, in part, and in reference to Tiger Woods, "Our hero did not live up to the expectations of the role model we saw for our children"

OK----I'm sorry, I gotta say it----he is "just"a golfer. An athlete. Probably one of the best golfers in history but, just a guy playing a game. Where the idea of a man playing a game well made him a "hero" is beyond me.

Now, I am the first to admit that I play----badly. In fact, embarrassingly bad. So, I do understand the "wow" factor of his talents and accomplishments. But the fact that he has treated his wife and family miserably and proved himself one epic horndog does not ruin his status to me as a player. Nor do I understand all of the weeping and sniveling of "He let me down." HUH?

He has provided some good entertainment over the years with his talent and, recently even more with the "over share" of his philanderings, but-----a hero? Come on.....

I'm sure everyone can remember seeing Michael Jordan do some of the most amazing things I have ever seen done on a basketball court, but hero? Some kind of super human alien creature maybe but "hero"? I don't think so........

and one last thing on Tiger................if you are going to allow yourself to be the central image of a marketing campaign like this one:

You had better be sure that you are everything that they are presenting. I, as a jeweler, can't send out some photo of something that I did not make or cannot do. It has to be exactly what I can provide---which then leads to trust (that I can provide exactly what is presented) faith (that you will receive exactly what is pictured from me) and loyalty (for following through and doing exactly what was promised)-----I know-----SURPRISE!!

(I will say that after a summer of trips in and out of airports with these HUGE billboards everywhere, I did actually like them. Especially the one about "having a good exit strategy"----classic)

Anyway----a true hero? Here's one:

On September 11, 2001, fireman Stephen Siller, off duty and heading to a day of golf with his brothers, hearing what was happening in New York on his radio, turned and headed toward the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel. Finding his way blocked by traffic, he pulled over, strapped on his over 75lbs of gear, and headed---running---through the tunnel to the Twin Towers to offer his help. It is a 3.1 mile run through the tunnel. This Father of 5 children was never seen again.

There is an annual "Tunnel to Tower" run honoring him and his heroism that day. I have emailed back and forth with one of his brothers, George-----explaining my wish to one day do that run. Let's say it's on my "bucket list".

Now THAT'S a hero!!

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Which leads to that other "hero"---as in "----- sandwich" mentioned above:

Today's "Simple Solution":

Want to lose weight? STOP EATING SO MUCH FOOD!

I know. Simple. With all of the diets and plans to help you lose weight, it really couldn't be simpler. If you want to lose weight, the incredibly simple solution (which, of course, we all know to be true) is to lower your "fuel" intake. ("fuel" being defined as calories or carbohydrates needed to keep us functioning) If there is less fuel coming into the system (that would be "us"), then the system will use backup fuel (better known as "fat") to keep the engine running smoothly. If, on average, you are taking in 3000 calories of food per day, and you cut that down by 500 calories to 2500 per day, you will lose weight. Now, let's be realistic here. If you take in 2500 calories in the form of Snicker's Bars or Vodka, I am really not so positive of your weight loss--or, for that matter, mental function, but a mixed diet of "healthy" foods...there you go.

And here is the "secret" to every diet plan---and you will find this noted somewhere in every diet no matter if it is the simplest, easiest, or most expensive----add exercise to your diet and you will lose even more weight.

Eat less=lose weight. Burn up excess calories with exercise=lose weight. Combine the two=lose more weight.

Simple. That is all it takes.

I know. A fortune is being spent out there looking for the next miracle diet that will ""help you lose those pounds" etc etc etc. You can come up with all kinds of arguments as to "but if I eat this or less than that or more liquids or?" That's all a smoke screen to explain why you need to spend all of that money on that new diet plan. And you already know (and "may" have chosen to ignore) what actually works best and it is exactly what I am telling you here:

Tom's Miracle Diet: Eat less, exercise more, lose weight. Your choice.............

See? What did I tell you? Simple.

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Today's quote:

"It takes the whole of life to learn how to live" Seneca

Thanks for dropping by...........................

Welcome!

I suppose I should first explain a bit "why":
Over the years of sloooooowly learning the newest electronic gadget---computers, cameras, cellphones, etc---I realize that what has been touted as a newer way to make my life easier, has, in actuality, at times, complicated it. Going through all of the steps, learning how to work these new devices properly, meant that I would just about have them figured out when some new way of communicating would come along. And, who is to tell if you are "connecting"--which WAS the idea in the first place--or simply being ignored. For example, I realized that just "possibly" my endless email rants---fired off to unprepared friends and aquaintances over the years ---had gotten to be a bit more of an annoyance than the originally intended amusement. And as new "quicker" ways to communicate came along, I realized that people were not even reading complete emails or listening to complete phone messages....hmmm...maybe that's a personal problem..............oh well............
I have never claimed to have a better view than anyone else. In fact, it is my firm belief that we are all "right" in our own views of how life works. We each have our own unique understanding of what works for us. That's not to say that I have never stood up and said, "This is the way I see it." But that is exactly the point ---"the way I see it."
I have, throughout my creative endeavors, used as one of my own personal guidelines, or "mantra", Thoreau's famous word---Simplify. That thought has always been the final "note" to any jewelry design that has evolved in my mind. I have realized that from my first musical memory ("Claire de Lune" by Claude DeBussy) I truely prefer the simpler, more precise melodies. (actually, that was the first song I learned to play on the violin at 7 years old. I remember that it immediately sounded familiar to me------as if my parents had played it when I was a baby or something. I knew it as soon as I heard it!)
So, in order to be able to "state my case", amuse, entertain, rant, and reveal a bit of how I see things, I decided to create this site.
I will do my best to present a daily thought, mantra, quote, song, hey---maybe a recipe.

And one disclaimer: This is in NO means intended to be an advise column!! Nor a "can you fix this?" site.
Just some reminders to everyone to help find the simple solution. Thanks for visiting!