About David

It looks weird...but believe it or not, you can read it.

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl ms es and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?

Barack Obama Victory Plates

I remember being at my Great Aunt's house when I was a kid and seeing her JFK and MLK commemorative plates displayed on the wall above her piano. At that time, I thought it was kind of weird, nut now, as an adult living ina time of great change, I think I am starting to 'get it'.

Running across these Barack Obama Commemorative Plates while searching for sometime totally unrelated, makes me think fondly of my Aunt.

Peace,
zss

PS - if you are so inclined, the order tab does work.

Personal Financial Management System

Ran across this information tonight and I must say, it just seems so logical and timely in today's financial climate.

just saying...

In The News- Or I'm so embarrassed by my state...

Barack Obama cited for codes violation in Memphis

MEMPHIS, TN (WMC-TV) - While he prepares for his January inauguration, President-elect Barack Obama has a problem to deal with: he's been cited by Shelby County Code Enforcement, after a supporter put a campaign sign too close to a street.

Attorney Jay Bailey said he thought it was a joke as he was sitting in Environmental Court on an unrelated case, when he heard the judge call out Barack Obama's name. When he realized it wasn't a joke, he agreed to take the case on behalf of Obama, to keep the judge from putting out a bench warrant on the President-elect.

Bailey signed the docket on Obama's behalf, and immediately contacted the Secret Service for their guidance.

Court documents show a Memphis City Code Enforcement officer cited Obama for illegal posting of signs on election day. Bailey said campaign workers told him the code enforcement officer had more than 100 Obama signs in his truck when he served the citation election day on Park Avenue.

"I've seen some pretty wild things occur here in Memphis politics, but nothing as bizarre as a code enforcement agent citing a soon to be President of the United States for putting out illegal campaign signs," he said.

Bailey, who is in contact with Obama's transition team in Chicago, pointed out that Obama did not have an official campaign presence in Memphis, where the Democratic Party campaigned on his behalf.

Vote 2008

Sen. Barack Obama is now President Elect Barack Obama. What a moment in history to witness.

Congratulations President Elect to you and your family. Now the real work begins.

Peace,
zss

Politics of Religion

11/03/2008

Every now and then, I am confronted with a notion that I find so umm, interesting that it sticks with me. A message posted on the marquee of a church I drive past during my route to work fits into that category. It reads: “JOIN US IN PRAYNG DAILY FOR A PRESIDENT WHO WILL TURN US BACK TO GOD.” Ok, if I remember correctly from the presidential campaign that originally put Bush Jr. in office, this was supposed to be his job. According to the political right, Bushy was everything they were looking for in a Political Messiah. His appointment was supposed to heal our nation from the “moral darkness that was the Clinton era”. He was, according to the right, God’s man in Washington. So what happened? Did the right hear wrong, or was God pulling a funny? Oh, or maybe it is proof that no man can heal something as broken as we are as people and as a nation.

People were looking for a redeemer here on earth and they got Prince George. Now in this election, voters are once again looking for a savior and casting the parties that do not line up closest to right as very near demonic. The name calling, misinformation, and negativity of this political season has been amusing, sad, and embarrassing. My friend Joyce recently said something humorous and wise by remarking that we need to remember that we are "voting for a president, not a pastor". I truly believe that is a very important distinction that King seekers on all political sides need to keep in mind.

I am not saying that people with a religious viewpoint should not involve themselves in the political process...no, not even close. What I am saying is that everyone should do their own research and not throw their vote at one issue or because the candidate goes to church, is a woman, or black. I personally believe that the one issue votes is what led us into the past 8 years and sadly, I have been hearing that same nonsense voting practice circulating again.

I once heard that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. I guess we really never learn or maybe the gods are truly crazy.

Peace,

zss

Emptiness Becomes Openness

Awesome thought I just had to share from the DailyOM

Sometimes a Loss Can Be a Gain
October 8, 2008

When we lose anything that we cherish, the sense of emptiness we are left behind with can be overwhelming. A space that was filled, whether in our lives or our hearts, is now a void, and the feelings of pain, loss, and separation can sometimes be difficult to bear. While it is always important to honor what we've lost, sometimes a loss can also represent a chance for a new beginning. When we are ready, the void left by a relationship, a job, or a dream can then be viewed as open space that can be filled with something new: new experiences, new knowledge, new job opportunities, new dreams, new people, and new ways to grow.

There are many ways to weave the threads of loss into a blessing. If you've lost a job or ended a relationship, your first thoughts may revolve around filling the void with a similar job or the same kind of relationship. Try not to rush into anything just to fill up the emptiness. The loss of a job can free you up to explore new opportunities, especially if you've outgrown the old one. Likewise, the loss of a relationship can give you a chance to rediscover your own interests, explore new passions, and meet different people.

If seeking the good in what seems like a bad situation makes you feel uncomfortable, then try to remember that you are not devaluing what you've lost or replacing it cold-heartedly. You are surrendering to the fact that, in life, we sometimes have to let go and allow for what is new to enter into the open spaces created by our losses. In doing so, you are honoring what has left you and welcoming the new into your life with open space, an open mind, and an open heart.

Ellen and Portia - 08/16/2008

Congratulations!

They look so beautiful and happy!!!

Ellen Degeneres and Portia De Rossi Wed 08/16/2008

Karma

08/12/2008

He called me out of the blue.

He tracked down my number and called me.

He wanted to apologize for his bad thoughts and even worse talk. He wanted forgiveness for things I didn’t know about.

Or so he thought I didn't know.

He said he lost his job last year and has been struggling through the “no call back zone”.

He mentioned that the only Temp job that has contacted him in awhile has been to hand out hot dogs on a hot summer day.

He said he didn’t know that the struggle was so hard…he didn’t know that finding his rent was going to make him cry.

He didn’t know that the fight was so lonely.

So, he asked for forgiveness.

He said he hated me and my struggle when I was going through it.

I nodded my head because I had felt his heat.

He said he thought my troubles happened to me due to laziness, or at least some extreme personal shortcoming…nobody of sound mind and body could have that much tribulation and need…

His voice cracked as he held up a verbal hand begging me to grab hold of it.

And I did…because I always do…it’s what I do as I try not to think of karma.

zss

Personal Thoughts: 08/08/2008

Welcome to today. It's the beginning of your beginning. Follow your path!

peace,

z

WTF!

So, my company had a meeting today -- one of those oft canceled, oft postponed meeting in an overly cramped, overly hot room and this...is...what...we...heard from one of the big-wigs.

She: "Well, we have gone over the employee satisfaction surveys and noted that most of you are feeling frustrated that we have cut out extra hours and have increased your work loads a lot...increasing available hours goes against the company objective, so we have decided to take the next year to 18 months to discuss this...we know in these times, you all are just very happy to have a job, so we will talk about this for the next 12 - 18 months..."

I SHIT YOU NOT! THIS IS A QUOTE AND SHE SAW NOTHING WRONG WITH IT...

any wonder why I'm formulating my exit plan...?

no peace,
z

Cocoa Mulch - Warning for Pet Owners

Cocoa Mulch is manufactured by Hershey's, and they claim that 'It is true that studies have shown that 50% of the dogs that
eat Cocoa Mulch can suffer physical harm to a variety of degrees (depending on each individual dog). However, 98% of all dogs won't eat it.' True information about the mulch can be found here - http://www.snopes.com/critters/crusader/cocoa.htm. This site gives the following information: Cocoa Mulch, which is sold by Home Depot, Foreman's Garden Supply and other Garden supply stores, contains a lethal ingredient called 'Theobromine' . It is lethal to dogs and cats. It smells like chocolate and it really attracts dogs. They will ingest this stuff and die. Several deaths already occurred in the last 2-3 weeks. Just a word of caution, check what you are using in your gardens and be aware of what your gardeners are
using in your gardens.

Theobromine is the ingredient that is used to make all chocolate especially dark or baker's chocolate which is toxic to dogs. Cocoa bean shells contain potentially toxic quantities of theobromine, a xanthine compound similar in effects to caffeine and theophylline.. A dog that ingested a lethal quantity of garden mulch made from cacao bean shells developed severe convulsions and died 17 hours later. Analysis of the stomach contents and the ingested cacao bean shells revealed the presence of lethal amounts of theobromine.

Please email the manufacturer at: michellemessick@hersheys.com and request that accurate information about this product be posted on the packaging to avoid further tragedy. PLEASE GIVE THIS THE WIDEST DISTRIBUTION !!!

http://www.snopes.com/critters/crusader/cocoamulch.asp

CORNERSTONE BOUND

Time for another Cornerstone Music Festival Event. Really looking forward the music and people I have met over the years.

A few personal friends are involved in this year's fest, which makes it rather special.

Oh to pack -- i need to hire someone to pack and do last minute shopping for me.

Peace,
z

Oh sleep, where art thou?

June 4 2008

Occasionally, I face the daunting task of trying to trick my mind and body into feeling sleepy. I read, write, surf the net, dance, think, try not to think, clean…whatever I can think of that may tire my whole system only to hear the system send up a very vocal and articulate FUCK YOU!!!

It’s currently 2am on a “school night” and here I am hoping that if I go back to bed one more time, the sleep gods will meet me there. But, I’m also afraid that they have taken a trip to Antarctica or some such place with my rest secretly packed away in a dark corner of their carry-on luggage.

I want to find the hidden vial of sleep potion, I want to join the angels in sweet, peaceful slumber – to dream in innocence – to dream…but here I am bargaining with the universe for just a taste…another chance to bond with my pillows, to kiss the old day away in sweet R.E.M.

sleep well...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Separation

04/29/2008

As humans and sexual beings, where does our personal identity begin and end in relation to our sexual identity?

The question appears because of a conversation a friend and I had recently in reaction to some acquaintances that identify with a very alternative sexual lifestyle. Normally we could care less -- well, as long as it’s not with an animal, no one is underage, unwilling, and no one gets hurt – all we ask is that everyone use protection.

What we have been batting back and forth is: what about those who appear to have no identity outside of whom they are fucking or who is fucking them?

When this situation presented itself, it was very affronting. It left a bad taste in our mouths the same way door-to-door evangelists and used car salesmen do. – It was wayyy too much – way too over the top – way too look at me.

Because of the manner that we were introduced, we cannot think of the other parties other than penis’ and vaginas – they are like walking and talking genitalia seeking a warm place to rest and let me tell you, that’s not the way I wish to think of others.

Among my friends and acquaintance, there is no one else that I consider in this way. My associates are straight, gay, bi, asexual, poly, conservative, liberal, promiscuous, reserved, and all the labels in between yet none present as only identified by their sexual orientation.

Maybe its voyeurism or low self-confidence that makes people not see themSELVES as separate from their chemistry?

Maybe it’s my desire to know the person as a whole. Being given only one part as an identifier for the rest leaves too large a hole unfilled.

Yeah, it got us talking but I’m not sure it’s in a good way.

Peace,

z

Question of the Day

Can we claim innocence if the work we do to pay the bills goes against our core values?

Quote to Remember

Sometimes, a quote reaches me that I want to hold on to. The following is such a one:

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: You don't give up.
Anne Lamott

Favorite Things...

...Introducing two separate groups of friends to one another and they hit it off as if they have known each other forever....priceless!

peace,
zss

Just a Question

1/26/2008

With all of the people who have come to the USA from other countries, why is it that only the Spanish speaking ones are allowed to go about their lives without learning American English?

Friends, some of whom have immigrated from other counties, other like me who learned English second, have been having conversations about this for a while –

We want to know, with all of the Sudanese, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Mediterranean, German, Greek, etc people in this country, why the rest of us don’t get the option of pressing 2 for our native tongue when we utilize services?

Growing up, we were taught that it shows respect for a country and its people to at least have a working understanding of the native language. When we hear about ones who have been here for 20, 30, 40 years and need an interpreter, it feels like a slap in the face – so disrespectful.

Where is the number option for my language?

z

A Plea

My PLEA for all animal owners.

As a volunteer at one of the local animal shelters, every week, I am introduced to new additions to our community. Along with the strays and other animals whose stories we may never know, we are never without one who has been brought into our facility due to the owner’s death. These pets are sometimes left tied outside of the home they once shared, sometimes just let go by family members to run wild, and many times, taken to facilities to be put down because other family did not want them.

Being a witness to this has made it more clear in my heart and mind that we animal lovers need to make sure that we make provisions in writing for our pets so that they will be taken care of at the time of our death.

Please be sure to have at least two (2) people that you can count on to take care of your pets if something should happen to you. Be sure to have their names, telephone numbers and addresses on file so that your beloved four-legged companions will have a place to go and not be dumped like trash or killed like criminals. Also, have in writing your Vet’s name and contact information. Finally, give your Vet a copy of the names of your pet caretakers.

Thanks for reading and acting on this.

Peace,

zss

Choices

written: 12/25/2007

When is it time to say goodbye to the things one thinks she knows?

This is one of the questions that has nagged at me for a long time – for years. I have told others that I feel like I am stuck between two opinions. Now I realize that I was only scared for way too long to make a decision. One choice leads to a scary place unknown. The other, a scary place lived in.

I have been told for eons that if I make a choice for the unknown, I am making a decision for death, destruction, and eternal damnation.

If I make the decision to stay put, then I in turn make the choice for disappointment, disillusionment, and worldly damnation.

So how does one decide when a choice is really no choice?

As I wrote that last line, a verse from a Rush song came speeding into my head: “if you choose not to decide you still have made a choice…” that seems like the lazy mans approach to selection, does it not?

I’ve stayed in one option because it’s what I have come to know – It reminds me of the reason many abused women stay in their destructive relationships – although abusive, it’s security…it’s known.

We all like to be where we know. We like the comfort, the familiarity, the smells that remind us of something…even when we can’t put our fingers on that something – even when that something doesn’t have a name…even when that something is dangerous.

So what’s my choice? To scrap what I have been taught to “know” and walk away. Walk away from the God I have been taught and try to find the God of truth.

I have not believed in the Western idea of Christianity for a long time – but I did what I knew. I hoped to catch the fever somehow – like if I was around those infected I would get it – I would get the hand raising, tear streaked, Hallelujah chanting, smiley faced Jesus virus. But the more time I spent around these types, the less I believed in their brand of Jesus. The frenzy around God just felt all the more fake.

I DO NOT believe in the Jesus of the United States. The Ayrian, self-serving, suit wearing, puritanical, judgmental, diversity hating, Bible thumping, unforgiving prick of a Jesus! Yet most days, I do think of god as being a prick…but is that really who/what he is, or is it the essence of him given off by those who claim to represent him?

I do not believe in the White Church, African American Church, Korean Church, Youth Church, Gay Church, Spanish Church nor the Pentecostal, Baptist, Catholic, Episcopalian, Lutheran, Methodist, Seventh Day Adventist, Denominational, we are right you are wrong, Church Splitting Jesus.

Although none of us have the full story, I do believe in God – I do believe in Jesus – and I do believe that the devil is real – I also believe that the Devil looks a lot like the love child of George W. Bush and Jerry Falwell – but I digress.

I do have the give props where props are due…so I thank George W and his minions for pushing me to decide. I have been smothered with their Jesus for years. I see purple when I hear them speak “for” Jesus and when they swear that they are speaking for me as a believer.

What I’m looking for is authentic Jesus. I am on a mission for truth and I do not believe that true Truth can be found within the walls of a building or the church’s program of the month. I often wonder about the books and words voted out by committees and denominations from the censored bible I have been allowed to read. Only part of the part of the part of the story available is truly AVAILABLE.

I guess that means that I am on a pilgrimage. Maybe my agnosticism is really just me choking on the foul crap that I have been fed over the years – a rebuke of the American style of belief – an atheistic disbelief in Ameri-conservi-anglo-patrobertsonism.

It’s also that my real life experience with the god of the Western church looks nothing like the god of the White House, Christian radio, books, or religious programming. My sandals have worn out more times than I can count and my reed has been paralyzed, boil laden, and bed-ridden.

I have friends who are literalist, everything is black or white, if it’s not in their version of the bible, then it doesn’t exist or it going to be burnt up in the fire of the last days. Yeah, whatever, ish! They act so certain of their fear…but I ask, in light of what we do know, how can we truly know? As a friend once asked, “is faith really faith or merely an addiction to one thought?

Is faith an addiction? Is it merely fire insurance? Is the illogic of it logical?

As scary as it is, right now, my wavering choice is the God of truth – whatever that means…not the god of the Western Church. I truly do not know what that means as the first question for me is: What is truth? – not WHO is truth for the identification of Truth in the western bible is ones testimony about himself. I have seen the inconsistencies contained between the covers holding the allowed 66 books and choose not to try to explain them away as some seekers are very adapt at doing.

I choose to not turn a blind eye to the fact that there are questions and if this choice is sending me to hell, my hand basket will be decorated well with flowers, peace signs, and accented question marks.

zss

The Mickey Factor

Written: 11/20/2007

Tonight, I felt so festive as I secured a winged overnight pad into the crotch of my Mickey Mouse bikinis. How much like a woman – how much like a child.

Since I can remember, I have loved Mickey Mouse – something about those ears I think – it seems a bit randy to wear him on periodic first days. Like I’m getting away with something. Mickey knows my secret scents, and how I flow. He knows me beyond the Biblical interpretation of the word…we are one – he is the man!

I wear him on my wrist during the day. He has ticked off the seconds of my life for 17 years or more via a watch I bought for $10 worth of Birthday money at Walmart. A battery here, a new band there, annoyance to friends as they hear him beating the metronome of our times, and still he rides along each day upon my arm.

We are like covert lover stealing glances at one another throughout the day – especially when bored – mostly when tired. We know each other well. Like he is always early – I am usually late.

I know the sounds he makes and he know where to rest upon my flesh.

I mourn each battery change…mostly because I usually have a conversation that goes like this:

Me: “I need to buy a new battery for my watch:.

Walmart Clerk (WMC): “we can only change batteries in watches bought at Walmart”

Me: “I’m aware of that. I bought this at Walmart”

WMC: “we don’t carry that watch”

Me: “I bought it 17 or more years ago”

WMC: “WOW”…”REALLY”…”AND IT’S STILL RUNNING”

Me: “Yep”

WMC: “WOW”

…

Yeah, exciting conversation right??! But I have it every 1 ½ - 2 years. I don’t get annoyed as much as humored that people are so amazed that the watch has lived for so long – like my wing holding undies –

How does this relate you wonder…

Well my comfy undies are at least 15 years old. They still are secure in their elastic, fit well, and are without holes. They are normally reserved for nighttime sleeping after a long hot shower or bath and are like a dependable old friend that holds and hugs securely during cramped times. I call it the Mickey factor.

Mickey is the only thing these items have I common. Traveling with me through many years have been one watch and 4 pairs of underwear with varying winter scenes – Mickey behind a Christmas Tree, Mickey as a Snowman, Mickey in full cold weather gear, and a smiling Mickey mosaic.

Mickey has been to Rugby matches, concerts, Ballets, and Operas. He has accompanied me through moves, binges, loneliness, and breakdowns.

I wonder how long Mickey will be a part of my life’s adventures. My heart is scared for the day that a battery does not make him well, or the day that the elastic starts to pull away from it’s security. It’s a simple loss I dare not fathom. A Mickey less life is one that I don’t desire to live through for the Mickey Factor as brought me through with it’s TICKTickTick and it’s TOCKTockTock. Silence of the digital age may be just a little too much for my Mickey infused memories.

Peace,

zss

The Quilt **

9/1/2007

“Eddie made the quilt.” The news rushed around the bends and into the cervices of my neighborhood. Women shared the report in whispers and men, with knowing smirks, nodded to one another in passing -- seemingly untouched.

“Eddie made the quilt.” Resounded like a mantra throughout the streets. Music played, dances failed to cease, and children played without knowledge in the streets.

“Eddie made the quilt.” Was shared for days after the 6:00 news slowly panned to his name prominently displayed for the entire world to see.

“Eddie made the Quilt!” With heads bowed, tear streaked strangers looked on in silence as the blanket passed before them.

“Eddie made the Quilt!”

Yes, Eddie made the Damn Quilt!

Peace,
Zss

** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Threads:_Stories_from_the_Quilt

** http://www.aidsquilt.org/

V oices in the Night

10/14/2007

2am -- the disembodied voice penetrated the air and sound waves of my semi-darkened room. “Stick your hands out of the windows” came its command. “AHHH”, I thought, “I have finally crossed over into true madness. I had ventured into the Virginia Woolf kind of insanity…the voices in the air psychosis, conjoiling, demanding, and persistent. But then it struck me that I am neither rich enough nor talented enough to afford that kind of mania, so I willed myself fully conscious in order to investigate.

The two four-legged late night patrollers that I share my living space with where on high alert when I finally emerged from my room. They directed me to look outside toward the lights…the flashing blue lights. It was like an episode of cops. I watched amazed.

“Put your hands out of the window.” “Driver, turn off the car.”

“Put your hands out of the window!” “Driver, turn off the car!”

It was clear that the vehicle occupants were either stupid or deaf as these two commands were repeated a bunch more times.

Finally, the occupants of the stopped car seemed to realize that the officers were directing their request to them. Hands emerged and the engine was finally cut. Uniformed officers surrounded the car, guns drawn and high, as other cops assumed the role of extracting the stubborn occupants one-by-one from the now quiet sedan and escorted them to a place out of my line of vision.

Because it happened in front of my house, I am interested to know what was going on. Was it a traffic stop gone badly? I truly don’t think so since there were so many cops on site and from distant sounds, more were on the way.

Like most citizens, I selfishly think that stuff like this is supposed to happen on other streets, in front of other people’s houses, not mine. When I go to bed, that’s supposed to be it…my only excitement being which pillow will get to cradle my head and the sound of the fan softly humming in the background. The only scenes I am supposed to witness are those in the hazy world of dreams – not action heroes on patrol.

zss

Alphabet Words

10/13/2007

My emotions are not pretty – they do not tie up into nice little bows. They use words that encompass the entire alphabet. They express the life I have lived and the things I have seen.

I tried for many years to censor my experiences in order to make them more palatable for others. Now, it just seems like so much wasted energy. I can no longer afford to misuse energy in order to save others – even myself from unbeautiful truths.

Nakedness is where I am right now. Sometimes it is attractive – but often it is messy and hairy and sad. Sometime it even surprises me. But I cannot censor.

I am, at this late stage in life, finding how to express myself. I am learning that it’s ok to have opinions that may cause conflict. But conflict or not they are mine and it’s ok.

I’m learning that life IS full of the alphabet and changing damn to dingleberry, fuck to fork, or shit to sugar is still the same thing so either stay quiet or use the unbasteridized expression. Altering the terms in order to make others or even oneself feel safe and pure does neither because we all know the words so we feel in the blanks.

Life is full of the alphabet. People are full of the alphabet. Soon enough, make-up melts away from the covered blemishes. And god help fast if one is left mute when descriptive words are needed most.

I once heard a pastor say “Strong emotions call for strong words.” It was one of the best things I had ever been told because sometimes we go through strong seasons. Sometimes our reeds crack and YES, even break. Sometimes, the reeds are cut and stripped and aching for something more than sweet words and popular phrases. Sometimes the strong meeting strong is the only rope that keeps a drowning man above water. And sometimes other people’s rules about the alphabet do nothing more than to add one more control to a life that is learning slowly how to become untied.

So I use the alphabet – the entire alphabet --, which I realize does not make me safe. I feel my emotions, which are not always jovial or widely appealing. But I’m learning to breath like a baby learns to walk – gradual, stumbling, and more often than not, lacking grace.

zss

First thing in the Morning

The song "God Says Nothing Back" by the Wallflowers has been on my mind constantly for the last few days upon waking up. Maybe I will take some time this evening to study the lyrics and really listen to find the little things that are making it be there...

God Says Nothing Back

BY: The WallFlowers

Seems like the world's gone underground

Where no gods or heroes dare to go down

As teardrops from a hole in heaven come

Overhead like ravens dropping down like bombs

Through the morning's silver-frosted glow

God says nothing back but I told you so

I told you so

God bless the void of my day dreams

Head back in the snow making angel wings

As slow motion dancing lights at dawn

Sail beneath a burning yellow sun

I'm calling out from the deep ends of my bones

Time says nothing back but I told you so

I told you so

Still waters rising in my mind

Black and deep, smoke behind my eyes

Last night I could not sleep at all

I hallucinated that you were in my arms

To be in your heart I failed my own

Love says nothing back but I told you so,

I told you so

Still here reclimbing every rung

Someone saw something,

someone speak up

Back over the rotted bridge I cross

Open up these graves, let these bodies talk

Buried under leaves blood red and gold

Death says nothing back but I told you so,

I told you so

What Can I Say

I found out that my birth father died last weekend. Hearing this news has taken me in a lot of strange memories and 'stuff'...The hardest has not been about this passing since he has in a sense been dead my entire life... the hardest part has been people's expectations of my reaction even those who know the intimate details of life with this man.

Following is a portion of an email I sent to a friend yesterday...

So far, I have figured that there is no real way to mourn a man who was so indifferent to his life and the lives of those around him. So, maybe soon I can stop feeling guilty for not feeling what society tells me that I should…
... to remain human, I can mourn what never was, the childhood lost, and the relationship that never was, learn to vanquish the rising “sick” memories that notice of his death have conjured up, and free myself from what I think I should do and feel.
I do hope that he found peace somehow in his final hours.
Peace,
z

July 2, 2007

July 2, 2007

Got back from the fest late Sunday. Will write about it later – need to take a nap and then meet up for supper with my friend Bruce who is in town from Cincinnati.

Tomorrow (Tuesday), David comes back through town. He is staying overnight here. We had a great time road tripping. Nice to be with people one does not have to watch everything word and expression with. YIPPPEEE!

Thursday, my friend Sarah is to be in town. Ummmmm…maybe sometime before then, I can find a moment to put my camping stuff away.

Amazed at how much I missed my cats while I was away. I really dig those spoiled little felines.

Peace,
z

June 25 2007

Wow! It’s here already and David is on his way. My stuff is stacked up in a portion of my front room. Hope I have everything. We are driving through the night – seems to be the way to go. J

I go through this apprehensive excitement each year. Don’t ask why, it just is what it is what it is.

Can’t wait to get onto the stinky, hot and humid, straw smelling, LOUD, former farm. Excited about the familiar and all of those awesome hugs.

Peace,
z

June 15 2007

June 15 2007

Ahhh…I leave for my annual pilgrimage to Bushnell, IL in 10 days and I am yet to check my tent for repairs or make my to go list.

Working Press this year. YIPPPEEEEE!!!! I started thinking about the fest and the times that I have attended. Along with taking [teen] people with me in the past, I have worked as a volunteer in some capacity for at least 10 of the 14 trips.

I have loved all of my travels to Cornerstone Fest but I would have to say that the ones that I have worked have been the most memorable – the ones I have received the most blessing from.

This year, I am riding up with my friend David with whom I have never spent a lot of alone time with so my inner stress mama is starting to raise her sick little head. Praying that goes well – spending 8-9 hours in a car headed for one of the Plains states…EKKKKKK!

One part of the fest I am excited about is a 15 yo boy who is coming for the first time. I pray that he gets soooo blessed AND that he feels safe with us.

Ok time for bed.

Peace,
z

June 7, 2007

Well, a month in and my original job assessments have been verified. Sometimes I love being right – others times I hate it.

S = Still proves to be obsessed with her own ass and will lie and cheat to keep worshipping it. As much as parts of me would love to run her down in the parking lot, a much better part just feels sorry for her. I want to cuss her out but a quiet voice inside insist that I keep silent.

The “Twink” has left for another team in the company.

B = left for another job within the company umbrella.

F = continues to be a little dynamo.

W = still very knowledgeable.

As for all else, I still like my job – still getting used to the new systems and personalities, trying to establish my routine, and love that I can take a short walk in the midst of the day.

Peace,
Z

May 15, 2007

May 15, 2007

Excited about my job. Thank goodness!!! Along with leaning a whole new system, I have, as all kids to a new sandbox, been checking out the Team.

S = Is the person put in charge of training me. So far I have learned about her family, her mothers favorite color, who her friends are, who she likes and dislikes… but not much about the job. She has told me many times that her first priority is to make sure she covers her ass…her first priority is “HER”. Needless to say, I neither trust her or her ass.

W = Quiet but knowledgeable. Can see her moving up in the management core of the company in a few years – that is as she learns to relate to others. Think she would be a great trainer in the meantime – it would also give her an opportunity to learn more about how to relate to others.

F = Small dynamo. I don’t think she knows how much she knows. – Her daughter is due to have a baby soon. I’m so excited for her.

C = he is known as the “irritating twink”. It’s not a gay slur (even though he is gay) but because of HIM!!! He is so busy being in others lives and not with his work. He spends so much of his time wondering what others are doing and are being shown…then complains about not being able to get his work done…”go the “f” away…!!!!!!”

B = Sweet lady. Seems so frustrated. I think she is the newest to the team above me. Seriously, I feel her frustration stems from “C” always hanging over her cube wall telling her things abt the job in complete difference to what she has been taught. Feel she will not stay in the position for too long. SAD!

M = My manager. I’ve worked with him before. He is the same person I remember. He remains very knowledgeable about the job. Wish he was the one training me…know that he/we not only play well together -- we work well together too. In some ways, I feel that “S” feels threatened by the knowledge “M” and I have about one another. Based upon her voiced “personal ethic” I do keep this in mind.

G = The overseer (should I use that word). Wears Hawaiian shirts everyday. If he were ever to change, I don’t know what I would do. J Haven’t had much interaction with him yet but from what I have had, feel that he is both knowledgeable and fair…or…equally unfair.

These are first thoughts. As I am pretty untrusting as a whole, I feel that “S” has proven to be a person to watch out for. Wish I didn’t feel that way, but life is life…and as my friends Janelle and Kimmie have said a couple of times: “[I] see things that others miss…” sometimes I think this is cool…. most times I’m not so sure.

Peace,
zss

MAY 7, 2007

I started my job today. WOW! What a change. I’m excited. Ready for something real. Ready for BENEFITS. J

Peace,
zss

May 3, 2007

Today I returned home. I’m a bit scared…this is a BIG step. Can one really ever go home again?

Peace,
zss

Quote of the Day

"Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don’t believe in God and they can prove He doesn't exist, and there are some other guys who do believe in God and they can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now it’s about who is smarter, and honestly I don’t care." - Doanld Miller - Blue Like Jazz, pg.103

Today's Mood

Cautiously optimistic

On Being

3/29/2007

I love the Gay men in my life – not in an “I wish they were not Gay...” or in the “If only they would embrace my magic vagina cure then we can live happily ever throughout eternity…” kind of way – but rather in a way way.

I love that we can mostly relax rather than trying to be. I don’t have to pick out poses and phases that make me woman to their poses and manly phrases – we just are.

Generally, we share a dislike for George W. Bush – and we can talk about it – or if we just need to vent about him, we do not meet each other with tsk, tsk, tsk for failing to support him and his failed policies.

I will never understand what it means to be gay – male or female – but I love the stories.

Preston tells of his parents attempt to get him healed. As it goes, when he disclosed himself to his parents they sought counseling for him. The cure the therapist suggested during his sessions was for Preston to enter into a private room stocked with pornographic magazines and beat off until the cum fairy relieved him of his disease. He, of course thought it funny that his upper middle-class conservative parents thought it preferable to view pornography and stroke his self on their dollar than to be sucked off by his guy pal – but what the hell, he was chaffed and happy.

Jeff, a former summer co-worker…a high school teacher during the school year, is a man that one instantly assumes is gay – no doubt, no question, nothing – yet he was always shocked that people picked up on it immediately. It became one of the biggest jokes of our working relationship. He was sure that none of his students nor his co-workers at the high school knew he was gay EVENTHOUGH he took is very butch boyfriend – err, roommate of 10 years – or his mother to every school and faculty function that he attended. We could make each other laugh with just a look – he was awesome – I loved laughing with him – it was nice just being…

I like just being.

I like not having to worry if I’m pretty enough.

I like that my certain brand of insanity is ok and good enough.

I love that I do not have to be lady-like and dot my conversation with cute phrases or wear the right panties – or pretend.

The only thing I really wish sometimes is that Straight men were more like Gay men – well, without the boy on boy sex action.

Peace,

zss

I Guess It's Really True

I'm going straight to hell even without being allowed to pick out a lovely hand basket for the trip.

On the way home from work today, I was behind a car that had a bumper sticker proudly displayed which stated: "THE KING JAMES BIBLE...THE ONLY TRUE AND LIVING WORD OF GOD"

Yes boys and girls, I think I threw up a little in traffic.

Geeezzzz, I seriously feel sorry for that person.

Peace,
zss

Today

How often do you feel like giving the fuck up??????????????

Things I've Learned and am Learning

Since my birthday last week, I have found myself reflecting on some of the things I have been learning in this life's journey:

The taste of tears does not last forever.
There is possibly a song to match every situation and emotion.
Those who do not suffer an offense usually do not recognize it when it happens to others.
Friends come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
If wise, we will continue learning until we die.
Sadly, the truth is not always what matters most.
Sometimes good enough is best.
#1 is sometimes attained by shifty means, don’t do it.
Fried tofu is awesome.
It is best to surround yourself with people smarter and wiser than you think you are.
I will never be the "pretty girl" but heart is better than that which fades.
Be proud of my quirkiness and do not feel the need to apologize for it.
Some people will never "get" me.
Much of life and relationships will probably remind me of high-school life and relationships until the day I die.
Life is best lived with others and animals.
Books hold...
Good coffee, a well-blended margarita, and well fitting lingerie are as close to heaven as earth gets.
Do not be guided by expectations.
Some people will always lie.
Time does not heal all wounds.
In some cases, having the right words to say is not as important as having great listening responses.
A love that has to be bought is not worth having.
Expect unexpected joy.
Be free to laugh, be free to cry.
Joy is to be shared.
Pain should not be covered up.
Manners never go out of style.
It is good to share a need unless that is the only time others are contacted.
No one is too busy to share love and good manners.
Share love and hugs freely but resist letting them be whored by others.

there's more...for a later time.

peace,
zss

All We Need Is Love – Right?

3/9/2007

Funny things I hear during my daily travels remind me that not everyone “gets it” – whatever IT happens to be.

What I’ve heard a lot lately is this sentence: “Man, I wish the world were like it was in the 1800’s (1920’s, 1950’s, 1960’s, and 1970’s) when things were much simpler, don’t you?”

FUCK NO!!!

Things are not perfect now and will not even start to be perfect until man decides he is not “THE MAN” but hell no do I want to go back.

I live in non-pink skin. Any DAY other than TODAY is not a DAY I wish to “go back” to. The good old days were not so good to a great number of us. I strive for tomorrow while tipping my hat toward those whom came before me…those who died to make it possible that I might live.

I live in a city that played a goodly role in the Underground Slave Movement, yet in 2007, remains one of the most racially divided, segregated communities I have ever lived in – and this from a Southerner!

We have come far but not far enough.

Non black (brown, yellow, red) friends have been stunned to learn that as close as the 1970’s, people were brought to “justice” for the crime of marrying interracially.

We have not come far.

Churches are still regarded as the Black church, White Church, Korean Service…

We are still divided.

Churches are still being bombed and set on fire.

We have not learned.

People are killing each other in the streets.

We have not become wiser.

Black, brown and yellow babies are offer at discount from adoption agencies because nobody wants them.

We are not remembering the dream.

Service communities are refusing to serve anyone who does not speak fluent American English.

We are not inclusive (more on this in another post)

Communities are drawn among racial lines.

Yeah, not everyone has a fair chance.

Joe Biden speaks…

Enough said!

Peace,
zss

© 2007 Wosesongs

Death

Does Death have a name – like Bill, or John, or Jane?

Or does it exist with a title like Master, Servant, or God?

Will we greet each other by name when at last we meet, or just tip our heads in each other’s directions too busy, or important to truly speak?

Is Death aware of its power? Is it aware of the romance associated with its function?

Does it cry because of the fear and misconceptions that are associated with it?

Does it grieve when it comes for babies, young children, kittens, or adults who have dedicated their lives to good?

Does it sneer that so many full of evil know how to slip its grip?

If I were to invite Death out for a movie and drink, what would it order?

Does Death have a favorite sports team? Wear boxers, briefs, or go commando?

Does Death have a list of those it can’t wait to see like Capone, Hitler, or McVey?

What does it believe about itself?

Would Death be offended if I called it Bob?

Peace,
zss

© 2007 Wrosesongs

To Blog Perchance to Sleep

3/5/2007

I write a Blog entry in my head almost every night while I’m waiting for sleep to come sooth me away into it’s unknown land. Because of this, I used to keep a spiral notebook on top of my headboard thinking, “you gotta catch those thoughts while they are fresh.” But me being me, once I get snug into bed, and able to get the smallest cat to stop chasing my feet and the oldest cat settled down after trying out 15 different bed locations, the last thing I want to do is upset the madness. So I continue writing elegant prose and mind altering poems in the stillness of the night.

At least it all sounds pretty damn brilliant when I am between wakefulness and blessed sound sleep. At least my cats sometimes stop licking themselves long enough to acknowledge that they are present as the great American Blog is being created in my mind and into the air.

I refuse to acknowledge that the things produced in sleep may be total horseshit. I choose to think that dreams are the pathway to hope and hope is the exit before Divine realization. Surely that noble exit is not blocked. Surely the dresser and lamps are impressed. Surely the most influential writer’s award for sleep induced Blogging has been lovingly packed and placed in the mail on it’s way to me. I see it! I see it eloquently addressed in care of the keeper of my fantasies.

So, with this in mind, I will rest another day with brilliantly slurred and garbled words accompanying me into deep, poetic slumber.

I can dream, can’t I?

Peace,
zss

© 2007 Wrosesongs

Addict

I fear that I have become an addict of the new show Hereos.

Peace,
z

Question of Sexuality - 2

I had this posted elsewhere but the fuvk was hi-jacked out of it -- so i'm moving the topic here.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

by now, i assume that most people here have heard the on-going saga regarding ted haggard, former pastor of new life church in colorado.

let's forget, for a moment, that haggard is a pastor and just regard him an everyman -- his story is just used as one of the examples.

IS SEXUALITY UP FOR EACH PERSON TO PERSONALLY DEFINE?

although he has had male-to-male sexual encounters, his alleged partner states it was a three year relationship, haggard defines himself as "totally heterosexual"
there is a large group of men who are known as "DOWN-LOW" who enjoy sex (and seek out sex) with other men on a regular basis, yet consider themselves heterosexual.
one of my female acquaintances in the original conversations has had a number of sexual relationships with women, yet consider herself neither bisexual nor homosexual.

are these people in denial?
is sexuality up for personal definition even if evidence suggest something other than the person's idea of himself?
generally, the men who consider themselves down-low also do not feel that they need to disclose their 'other life' to their heterosexual partners because "they do not want to me labeled or judged as anything other than heterosexual" --[yes, i believe this to be very irresponsible behavior].

please, shed some light.

what the heck is going on?

am i wrong to believe that if a person seeks out same sex relationship that the person is either homosexual or bi-sexual?

when did it get so confusing?

comments???

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Huh?

Why do Americans act so shocked and disgusted when American Troops are killed in Iraq?

Thinking outloud, again,
zss

Latter Days

I placed the lyrics of one of my favorite songs: Latter Days by Over the Rhine, a couple of post down hoping to spur conversation.

Occasionally, the highlighted portion grips my attention so that I am forced to reflect upon it: "

Lord knows we've learned the hard way all about healthy apathy."

I spoke with my friend Amanda about the lyric this past week since she too is familiar with the band and it's music.

SO i pose the question: CAN APATHY TRULY BE HEALTHY?

I have not been able to move off of this thought:

If the opposite of love is indifference or apathy, can there truly be such a thing as Health Apathy"? Isn't claiming that thought a sort of denial to the effects of apathy or even a sort of murder?

Thinking out loud and hoping for comments.

Peace,
z

skool

the more i listen to old skool and no skool music, the more contemporary music depresses me.

geez -- people are still discoverng:
stevie wonder
billie holiday
sarah vaughan
wilson picket
nancy wilson
dionne warwick
the gap band
sam cooke
the staple singers
shirley bassey
van morrison
the who
led zepplin
nina simone
commodores
prince
...and others in these classes

who do peeps have to pick from today:
brittney spears?
justine timberlake?
pussycat dolls?

i sometimes feel sorry for the music of today and for those who listen to it.

will today's music be pined for 30-40 years from now? does it have life?

ekkk --

(this rant brought to you by a question -- a question from someone only 3 years younger than me who has never ventured past lead categories of their local record store...)

sigh!!!!!

Latter Days

Latter Days
words and music: Detweiler
recording: Good Dog Bad Dog

What a beautiful piece of heartache this has all turned out to be.
Lord knows we've learned the hard way all about healthy apathy.
And I use these words pretty loosely.
There's so much more to life than words.

There is a me you would not recognize, dear. Call it the shadow of myself.
And if the music starts before I get there dance without me. You dance so gracefully.
I really think I'll be o.k. They've taken their toll these latter days.

Nothin' like sleepin' on a bed of nails. Nothin' much here but our broken dreams.
Ah, but baby if all else fails, nothin' is ever quite what it seems.
And I'm dyin' inside to leave you with more than just cliches.

There is a me you would not recognize, dear. Call it the shadow of myself.
And if the music starts before I get there dance without me. You dance so gracefully.
I really think I'll be o.k. They've taken their toll these latter days.

But tell them it's real. Tell them it's really real.
I just don't have much left to say.
They've taken their toll these latter days.
They've taken their toll these latter days.

Into the Mire

zss

Question of the Season

Each year I think answering the "question" is going to get easier. But it never does.

I am asked many times : "Are you going home for Christmas?" To which I always answer "No." But what I'm really saying is: "I have no home to go to."

I used to tell the truth, but long ago grew tired of the look in people's eyes when the words -- even said with as much humor as I could muster -- were said.

So my gift is the word "No". My favorite holiday gift to myself are rented movies and a remote control.

I am an orphan on God's highway
But I'll share my troubles if you go my way
I have no mother no father
No sister no brother
I am an orphan girl
-------Gillian Welch

Peace,
zss

Madison

Meet the newest member of my family: Madison (aka: Furbie)

Monday Thought

I doubt that I laugh as much or purely as I do when my life is shared with animals.

peace,
z

Just Because...

Because I smile and laugh doesn't mean that everything's alright.

YES!

I still love and miss him.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAMAL!

Some Days

These days, I just want to be in places where it's safe to just be me...scales, smiles, hopes, rants, questions...all of it.

Some days, I do not feel like smiling or laughing.

Some days, I feel like being sillier than what may be resonabally allowed.

Some days, I just want to sleep without feeling quilty about "wasting the day away".

Some days, I want to dance without regard to rhythm or what my body is doing...I just want to move.

Some days, I want to watch the rain fall in silence.

Some days, I desire to watch the rain fall with background music.

Some days, I lust after discussions about Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Somedays, I wish to be as deep as a Nightline Segment.

Somedays, I want to hide.

Somedays, I want you to realize I'm the same as you.

These days are my somedays.

Peace,
zss

Outcry

Oh God,

I want to scream but I’m not sure which frustration wants to vent. And I’m not sure I even know how to shout.

z

Alana

Sometimes I'm amazed at just how very much I love her.

Peace,
z

....

And through it all, I forgot to let go...

Just Saying

Sometimes a fizzy yellow beer hits the spot.

peace,
z

Administration of Cynicism

I fear that I have become so scared by the Bush administration that the first thing I thought (and keep thinking) after hearing about the current terrorist plot in Britain was "I bet this is only CIA/Yard – Bush/Blair involvement to try to get Bush’s numbers back up"

The though has been hard to shake especially coming upon the 5th anniversary of 9/11, Bush's approval ratings at an all time low, and this weeks election of an anti-war democrat elected to office in Connecticut.

I wouldn't put such a stunt past him and his cronies in Britain.

And I hate that the lies that have been told over the past 6 years have made me so much more cynical of the American government.

The boy who cried wolf should be impeached. I want my innocence back.

Peace,
z

Wednesday Thought

We all have scars...some are visible to the world while others can be dressed up and taken out for a good meal and a drink

peace,
z

Thought for Tueday

The thing about this cyber world in which we live is that it makes it so much harder to talk voice-to-voice with people -- ESPECIALLY when you need to.

peace,
z

Song in my head today

Try Not to Try
Adam Again - Perfecta

HERE YOU ARE, CHASING ANGELS
LOOK FOR ANOTHER IDEA TO HOLD
UNDER YOUR THUMB
AND SQUEEZE AN OUNCE OF
COURAGE FROM A THOUSAND
WORDS
YOU'D THINK YOU'D HEARD ENOUGH

TRY NOT TO TRY
IT'S A LESSON HARD
BLIND FAITH WILL SCATTER THE
STARS
TONIGHT CAN BE A BEGINNING

HERE I AM RUNNING OVER
HALF OF A LIFETIME, I'M SCRAPING UP
A TRACE OF YOUTH
A LAZY CHILD CAN KNOW THE TRUTH
AND TOUCH THE MOON
IT'S HERE IN FRONT OF YOU

TRY NOT TO TRY
IT'S A SIMPLE CREED
WITH SENSE AS A SLY ENEMY
TONIGHT CAN BE A BEGINNING

HERE WE ARE, MISSING MOMENTS
SO MANY DETAILS, THE NEVERENDING
FIGURE-OUT
TOO WEARY NOW TO TALK ABOUT THE
WAY WE FEEL
THE NIGHT, IT REELS US IN

TRY NOT TO TRY
IT'S A SACRED ART
GRIPPING THE SLIPPERY STARS
TONIGHT CAN BE A BEGINNING

For Sandie

Thanks for helping me see that sometimes the impossible is indeed possible.

Peace,
z

The cutest kids in the world!

just saying.....:)

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL - The Story

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL

THE REST OF THE STORY

Getting to this year’s Cornerstone Fest turned out to be a struggle for almost everyone my friends and I talked with. In the end, all that the struggles did was to make people surer that they were supposed to be on those grounds for one reason or another. It appeared that most of the people needed to get away from something or someone and be with those who allow them to be themselves. What an awesome blessing that is.

Of Frustration:

As I stated in an earlier post, I did not even consider going to Cornerstone Fest this year until friends decided to make it possible. One set offered ticket payment, another, offered gas money, and others, the sharing of food. After thinking within my insanity, I decided it would still be crazy to take advantage of these gifts but after smart dreams and conversations with smarter friends, I decided to make the trip.

Things became more stressful the got closer it got to making the trip to the former pig and cattle farm.

The woman who promised to watch my cats while I was away suddenly became inaccessible. I couldn’t get a return phone call or text message to verify any of the plans with her. This event set me thinking once again that I should cancel my trip and began making plans to that effect.

Sad, frustrated, and disappointed, I came to the realization that there is a reason there are so many placates in people’s yards around this city encouraging the citizens to HONOR [THEIR] PROMISES –

YEAH – I admit to still being a little bit miffed at what I have found here in the place that I have dubbed “Home of the lame, land of broken promises, city of the full of shit”.

I called my friend Joyce to ask her to pray for me and my attitude – to pray for relief from the hurt that was twisting in my heart. She responded that she would prayAND that she would LOVE to take care of my babies. She encouraged me to continue making my plans and look at the trip as a blessing from God. I’M SURE I became a traffic hazard due to the tears flooding my eyes seemingly from the well of grief in my heart while driving to work during that morning’s rush hour.

The Stuff:

Day 1 (Tuesday travel day): The plan was to leave by 10am so that my friends who were paying for my admission and I could meet up in Illinois around the same time. That all changed when I got to the grocery to get traveling food to find out that something went wacky with my Paycheck so that it was not showing on my account. NICE!….Thankfully, I had filled up on gas days before so that was not an issue. What was an issue was the LOST money AND the embarrassment of being denied at the checkout register.

Being a holiday, I was unable to get this problem rectified. It also put me about 1-½ hours behind on heading out on the trip. AHHHHHHHHH! Maybe the fates were telling me to unpack the car and settle in.

OK – so I prayed and really believed that I needed to continue on my trip.

On the way, I received a call from my friends Zeb and Amanda, their car had broken down in Danville, IL and were in the process of working with a Good Samaritan who stopped to help them out. Since I was running so far behind schedule, I was able to stop in Danville to visit with them, offer help and weird, humor hear the diagnosis, and see the miracle of the car starting. Strangers can sometimes better friends those we have shared meals with. The guy who spent hours of his day helping my friends was resistant to give his name saying he did not want them to feel obligated to pay him for the help he offered. Finally, he gave Amanda his full name and address and then headed off to complete his day.

Before we headed back into our cars for the rest of the journey, Amanda told me of what they experienced before their helper stopped. She spoke of hearing people conversing loud enough for them to hear being encouraged by their friends and lovers to NOT stop and offer assistance to them. AHHHH again.

We hugged, chatted about nothing in particular, they gave me the money for my ticket in case we got separated again, and then headed off to complete our trip.

Mid-way, I found that one of my important exits was closed! AHHHHHHHH! Ring, ring to ZEB…”where do I go now?” He directed me around the way and it was all good.

Finally got to the Fest grounds, set up, etc.

Amanda, Zeb and I started thinking about the morning’s event and realized that if not for the being behind schedule, I would not have been able to stop to be with my friends in the Danville McDonald’s parking lot. I would have been at the fest grounds hours before them stuck outside of the gates without telephone contact. And we would not have been close enough for them to give me exits and road numbers to make it around the road closure. Also, their issue played into issues later in the week.

My camping partner, Amanda G, was hours late from her arrival time. She should have been on the grounds no later than an hour after me. When mid-night came and no Amanda G, I begin to let my full worry mode take over but couldn’t get a clear cell phone signal in the cornfields. DAMN sucky cell tower gods! I was finally able to get very bad reception near a row of Port-A-Lets on the dusty road. Amanda G had some issues come up decided to get a hotel because it was so late in the nearest town but was driving around because the local Holiday Inn was asking $135 for a one night, single stay. She decided to try coming back to the grounds since we were all up and looking for her, but her journey took her to the back gate. The back gate was not set up to take ticket money so they sent her to the front gate. When we did not hear from our friend in good time, the other camp mates and I started new “find a cell pocket on the grounds so we can find her”. I was finally able to contact Amanda G near the same Port-A-Lets as the first time. She got lost on her journey around the grounds in the dark roads through soy and cornfields. Amanda G decided to bite it and allow Holiday Inn to rob her.

My friends and I wished Amanda good travels and peace, then kissed Day 1 good night.

Day 2 (Wednesday): Amanda G. arrived on the grounds safe, rested, and sound Wednesday morning. We were all extremely happy to see her. Upon her arrival, our camp got busy helping her set up her camp area…we even called in recruits from near sites. Our new friend Larry was an awesome help.

During set up, out near neighbor from Missouri asked if I could move my car back a foot or two when we finished setting Amanda up so that he could get out for a run to town the next morning. He had a blow out of one of his pop-up tires a few miles from home. He changed the tire and decided to continue on the trek he made annually with his kids.

As he was telling his story, Larry related a tire issue on the way to which our friends Dave and Tom added that they had a brand new front tire blow out on their truck about 80 miles into the trip from North Carolina. AHHHHHHHH – we all commented on the weirdness of the car issues then parted ways.

Amanda G, Joanne, Suzy, and I decided to rearrange our cars before heading out for the day’s events. All was going smoothly until time for me to move my car – key in the ignition – CLICK, CLICK…NO-DAMN-THING!!!!! Nothing like the engine turning over. OK – I take it back, the lights and radio worked but the engine decided to take a vacation.

My friends and I looked at the car as best as we knew, we tinkered, and sighed, and put our hands on our hips, and still nothing. After enough of this, we decided to call it a day and try to find help during the day.

Day 3 (Thursday): I ran into the family of a friend of mine from Nashville and told them of my car woes. They told me that one of their members was going to mechanics school and was supposed to be on the grounds that afternoon and the rest of the weekend. They would send him over to take a look. The plan was to text message me since for some reason I could received TM’s in the cornfields but not “real calls”.

Hope is a good thing.

Day 4 (Friday): The day was going pretty smoothly until I begin to feel a little ill. Not long after arriving back at the campsite, Amanda G arrived with an overwhelming desire to get off the grounds (we believe that was God). When she started her car, a pretty little light came on.

Have I said AHHHHHHHHH yet?

She popped her hood; we checked fluids, etc. and decided that she needed to get her coolant checked out. She made the choice to drive off the grounds to find coolant. ON her near travels, she came upon a full service gas station and pulled in. They seconded our diagnosis BUT were glad she stopped instead of picking up some generic OTC coolant. In that one little stop, she learned that her car takes a special kind of fluid. Using something other could have damaged the car and forced her to make up new cuss words.

I still think it was God telling her to start the car and get help.

Later, I was talking to my new friend Ryan and told him about the car stuff, he told me that he used to work as a starter on a car lot. He said that he could not fix a problem but could let me know if it was the battery, starter, or alternator. That was good enough for me. We made plans for me to text him when I left the Eucharist Saturday. He would come down to the campsite when he got the message – or let me know via TM when he would be able to meet me there.

Still no word from my friend’s nephew.

During the Psalter’s show, my phone begin to ring…Ringing in the land if the children of the corn was surprising enough, but I was able to see registered who was calling – my babies baby-sitter, Joyce.

I left the tent and decided to try to call he back scared that something was very wrong with my furry butt kids – OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!! I got an immediate clear connection. Joyce said she was calling just to let me know that all was going well and that she totally LOVES my little 4-legged family. What a sweet call.

After hanging up with Joyce AND not moving an inch, I decide to make another phone call – NOTHING!!! No connection, no bars on the phone – NADA!!!

OK – God wanted me to know that my kids were in good hands. I could live with that.

I think I skipped the rest of the night.

Day 5 (Saturday): The day started pretty normally then moved on to awesome.

Liturgical Worship and the message were wonderful. So glad I went. Kemper Crabb delivered.

I ran into Ryan on the way back to the campsite…no need to TM. He was available to look/listen to the car at that time. He asked if I had a screwdriver or pliers – to which I answered in the negative. There was supposed to be a screwdriver in the booth he was working but he could not find them. Instead, he grabbed a pair of scissors and we began our journey.

Once at the car, me on the inside, he outside waiting for me to pop the hood, three random guys walking down the dusty road approached Ryan. They stopped when they noticed Ryan had a pair of scissors in his hands because one of the guys had gum stuck in his hair and needed it cut out of the back.

When the car hood came up, Rick asked what was going on. Ryan told him the short story to which Rick offered that he worked on cars. AHHHHHHH turned to UMMMMMMMMMM!!!

Rick tinkered around doing all the manly mechanic things I guess manly mechanic peeps are supposed to do under the hood and under the car. Still nothing. I started getting scared that I now owned a very large and expensive radio.

The frustration was beginning to register on Rick’s face and shoulders until he finally said, “OK, we’re doing this the old fashion way”. With that, he laid hands on my engine and battery and prayed a very humble manly prayer raising God’s promises back up to Him. At the ‘AMEN’, Rick said, “OK, try it again”. NOTHING! Not even the click I had come to know and curse.

Suddenly (and I do swear that I saw the lightbulb come on over Rick’s head) he did some banging and then called out “Try it again” and as if startled from a deep slumber, the engine came to life. I hugged everyone…thanked everyone, and tried not to cry. Rick and his friends would not even take a water or soda for their troubles.

I don’t know if Rick and his buddies are human or Angels but they are forever Angels to me. What a blessing to see firsthand that there are honorable, praying men still in this world.

Ryan is also an Angel because I am convinced that his willingness to assist helped set up the event that brought the ultimate help.

I am still amazed that my greatest helps lately have come through strangers and near strangers.

Maybe that’s what this move is all about, letting go of the known and starting completely over.

Maybe that’s another post for the future.

OH – did I say that I met my Guardian Angel and he’s hot, hot, hot???????!!!!!!!

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL Day 4

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL Day 4

THE MUSIC – SATURDAY 07/08/2006

One of the saddest days of my year…

I hate the last day of Cornerstone Festival. Throughout the day, the same question keeps coming up: “When are you leaving…” I hate that question because it means that I am once again a year away from seeing some of my favorite friends face-to-face.

Saturday: Liturgical Worship, Jan Krist, P.O.D., Psalters

Liturgical Worship was sponsored by the Phantom Tollbooth. Kemper Crabb, an Episcopal Priest and musician lead the Eucharist service. Good for someone to finally realize that some that attend Cstone don’t resonate with the Baptist crowd.

Jan Krist: It was good seeing Jan back at Cstone. She’s a singer/songwriter with a great personality and a beautiful voice. I only own one of her CDs and hope to remedy that some day soon.

P.O.D. was by far my top concert of Cornerstone Festival 2006. They bring it each time they play the fest and always thank Cstone for helping them on their way.

IIRC, it was 1994 that they were voted #1 on the New Band Stage.

I’ve never seen them perform outside of the Cstone experience, I would love to one day see if they bring anything different to their mainstream shows.

Psalters: The P.O.D. show ran a little longer than I thought it would so I only heard the last song Psalters played. What a nice way to end the fest.

Next up, the other stuff of Cstone – peeps, frustrations, and miracles.

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL Day 3

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL Day 3

THE MUSIC – FRIDAY 07/07/2006

The first concert I wanted to attend today was not scheduled until 5:15 so I spent time walking through the art gallery and visiting with friend in an attempt to keep something a friend shared with me the night before off of my mind.

Toward the middle of the afternoon, I began feeling ill so I returned to the campsite, turned on the fan, drank a bottle of water, then laid down for a nap.

After my nap, it was time once again to play with my friends…find out how The Myriad and Denison Witmer did, get a cup of coffee, then see Rosie Thomas

Friday: The Myriad, Denison Witmer, Rosie Thomas, Psalters.

The Myriad I liked them the last time I saw them but got sick this year and missed their set.

Denison Witmer: See post above.

Rosie Thomas: I love her musically but DAMN! I think I need about 1/8th of whatever drugs she’s on to get with her between song banter. It’s like watching Sybil take the stage. One personality talks while the other plays and sings.

Rosie is a very talented singer/songwriter; I just feel that she should come with a warning label.

The first time I heard her play was a few years ago at the Cornerstone tent stage when she played right before Daniel Amos. I still remember the shock and disbelief echoed by the people I was standing with.

Psalters: Drums, dust, and hippies are a few of my favorite things.

Psalters is a band I learned about and came to love three years ago. The best way to describe them is as a tribal worship band. A premium is placed more on heartfelt worship than it is on getting every note perfect.

I love attending their shows because I never feel like I have to have it right to be there.

Another thing I love about the Psalters is that they distribute their CDs by donation only. IN that way, those who have are not the only ones able to get.

One of my friends says that she likes to think the Psalters are nearest to what we know of how the children of Israel sounded while journeying across the desert. I think I’m stating o agree.

The final day of Cstone 2006 coming up – always a sad time.

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL Day 2

THE MUSIC – THURSDAY 7/6/2006

Thursday was supposed to begin with a 1pm Seminar but the promise of fresh coffee and playing with friends seemed a little more appealing.

Two acts I had been looking forward to seeing, Dave Beegle and Linford Detweiler, had to cancel their showings which illicit a big pouty lip from me. I soon got over the loss of my first scheduled concerts for the day by an invitation to go tooling around the grounds on my friend’s newly rented golf cart. Due to medical reason, she had never been to some of the farther areas of tbe Cstone grounds. It was fun acting as tour guide.

Thursday: Annathallo, The Violet Burning, and Michael Pritzl, Over the Rhine.

Annathallo was a new band (to me). They came highly recommended by friends. I totally understand their excitement, but left after 2 or 3 songs. The band names Danielson Family as one of their influences and you can surely tell. Don’t get me wrong, I like Danielson fam – but we already have a Danielson fam…I couldn’t make sense out of hanging around to hear them coming through someone else’s mouth. I am looking forward to seeing what Annathallo discovers about themselves as they continue on their musical journey and discover what makes them different and interesting.

The Violet Burning never fails to bring the rock. I have heard their songs over and over for years and they still bring me to deep thought and sometimes, tears. Sadly, TVB’s set was cut a little short but darn – they performed “A I Am” and I was brought back to the time I first heard that song.

Over the Rhine brought the midnight Gallery show again this year. They performed a few of their new songs along with old favorites. Linford was allowed a couple of minutes to introduce one of his solo CD compositions and then play…sadly, he has been telling the same story the exact same way for about a year now. Time for a new introduction.

It was good seeing

Cornerstone Festival 2006 – Bushnell, IL Part 1 - Day 1 Music

THE MUSIC – WEDNESDAY 7/5/2006

I went on my annual trek to Illinois again this year thanks to my friends Amanda and Zeb that I made at last year’s feast.

I am still amazed at the caliber of people I have met over the years at Cornerstone Festival. I have even attended in years that I have found none of the music or seminars appealing. To me, Cstone is mostly about the people…the music is just a part of the soundtrack of our lives.

As in previous years, my schedule was frustrated by a few concert conflicts that had me shaking m y fist toward the music gods. Who in their right mind would schedule Over the Rhine, Starflyer, and Michael Prizl leading worship all on the same night/morning at the same time????

I arrived Tuesday evening to cool tent setting weather. Getting there was a struggle – but that will be touched in another post.

After setting up and resting a little, I took a little time to walk about the 576+ acres of the feast ground like getting reacquainted with an old friend.

My trek took me to the campsite of my friends at camp 77’s. It was so good to see familiar faces belonging to people with whom I don’t have to pretend to be sane or 100% lady-like 100% of the time. It’s good to have people in my life that allow me to take the pressure off.

After hanging with the Camp 7’s people, I met up with my camp mates, and laughed at nothing deep into the corn and soy fields too late and too long after stupid o’clock.

So hear goes my Cstone 2006 Stuff, Part Uno --

Wednesday:

-

Madison Greene is a band in flux. They basically exist for festival reasons only. The first part of the show was classic MG – the last part was not – It was Michael Blair showing his new stuff from his new band and project. I think I will like it once I give it a chance, but I was expecting one thing and got another.

They did attempt my fave MG song, Crywater Prayer, but the female lead did not possess the chops to carry the song. Always sad when a beloved band passes on.

Lost Dogs are not my fave band. I stayed at the tent because I was chatting with friends I hadn’t seen in awhile, the coffee was flowing, and I was too tired to find something else to do.

Again, I’m not a LD fan but I will listen to them live because of their ‘famous’ electic humor but this year…this year, I just found myself shaking my head saying, “they need to take some time off to write new material.” They used the same jokes they used last year, the performance felt flat, and I was bored. Thank goodness for iced Thai coffee.

Next up – The 77’s!!!!!!!

OK – maybe I should take away an exclamation point or 6.

I cannot recall a past time that I came away from a 77’s show without the feeling of afterglow – well, until this year.

The first part of the show FLAT, FLAT, FLAT. The only real excitement was Bruce beating the hell out of his snares and having to make a few replacements. Mark was full of his strength again. The last time I saw Mark, he had cut his hair way short; it was nice to see it back again.

I said flat, flat, flat, but I’m not sure if that is the correct way to describe… more disjointed and felt unrealized. It appeared to me that Mike had walked onstage with someone else’s band. Mark and Bruce gelled right off – Mike seemed like a man in the wrong home.

I know that Mark and Bruce work together in their hometown with their gig designed for bass and drums – I came away from the set wishing I could see that. This incarnation of the 77’s was not up to their former glory. Musically, they sounded OK but their hearts did not seem to be in it. It was like watching lovers who you know just had the biggest spat in their lives try to keep the sex date they made an hour earlier when they liked one another.

That said -- I love this band. Generally, their live shows are like no other. They are all talented musicians and I hope they get their legs back soon. I haven’t given up on the band, I know their potential and I remember that everyone has a bad day one in a while. Maybe they need to just throw caution to the wind and get out on the road TOGETHER again.

After the 77’s midnight show, I returned to my campsite and prayed that my sleep would not be interrupted by the pee gods which would force me to venture out into the night to the gross Johnny on the Spots.

Next up: Thursday July 6th Band offerings.

Peace,
Z

Wednesday Thought

There is nothing so wonderful than having wonderfully dependable people in your life who love you without fail. It is in having these lovely angels in place that keeps one from losing faith when the "boogie men" come along.

I am so thankful for the sweet loves God has so graciously placed in my life over the years.

You all wonderful and I am so much a better person for knowing you. Your presence in my life helps me not give up.

Peace,
z

Monday Thought

What I've been learning recently:

We all have issues - just some people's are more important that others.

What I really need - today...

* Sometimes, all I want is to have something go my way.

* All I really want right now is to know that there are people that I can really trust and rely on.

* I really need to come to terms with the fact that some people always get and never give and the universe does not always even things out.

* I have all of the telephone numbers I think I will need for this part of my life, what I really need is for people to realize that if they can receive a call, they can also make a call.

* I need my stuff. It's hard enough being in an unfamiliar place without my familiar stuff around.

* I need to stop feeling guilty for having needs.

...to be continued, I'm sure

Things Change

And how they change when we are not looking.

peace,
z

Happy to Be So

01/19/2006

“If I try to pray, it's like a game of red rover.
I take a real good run at it, but I can't break through.” ~ Linford Detweiler

I’m always amazed how a song I have been listening to for years can one day hit me in the gut and the next day, pass by unnoticed.

“Happy To Be So” by Over the Rhine is one of those songs.

I woke this morning with another song from the same release playing clearly in my head which is the reason I grabbed Good Dog Bad Dog off of the shelf on my way out to today’s activities. While listening, “Happy to Be So” came on and has been on constant repeat throughout the day. The dam that sits behind my eyes is growing weaker and weaker under the stress of holding back many tears. My eyes hurt from being forced into battle – goodness, I must pull it together for the people I am with will in NO way understand what’s going on inside of me & I fear I do not have words enough to explain it to them.

As much as I ache with the desire to feel something, most times I want just as much to feel nothing at all. As mush as I hope to be touched deeply, I also wish for the feeling to hide in a cave somewhere– unseen – untouched…at least until I can get behind the doors of my safety to allow the dam to break and let the feelings flow.

Peace,
zss

© 2006 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Splits

01/12/2006

I feel like I have my feet planted on two different shores. I know I need to make a decision but am so scared that I will make the wrong one. I hate being in this place.

/peace,
zss

To The Heavens

01/01/2006

Question

What is the difference between letting go and giving up?

peace,
z

Breathing Lessons

12/07/2005

It’s too much for me
Maybe I’m already dead
But haven’t stopped breathing
I’m at the end of all things gray
This is where my skin pulls tight
And my fingers bleed
Here is where hope lead me
Falling down the hole but
Finding nothing to behold
Like Alice
Many things done right
I’ve learned the tricks of living
I’ve made you feel good
While the bruised reed bent my life
This is where I slipped by
But it’s ok I guess
I’ve been lost on the side roads
There was nothing to see there
Just a vapor
and lost memory
Soon you’ll forget what you meant to me
And I will remember not to breathe.

When You’re Down…

11/07/2005

Poetic songwriter Michael Knott wrote in his song, “Make Me Feel Good” “When you’re down, no one wants you around…” Sadly, those words ring ever so true. Truer than most other things I have heard through this life – especially through the past months.

Why am I surprised that people who claim love and everlasting friendship when life is sailing along smoothly are hard to locate when times hit hard?

I’m still confused by those who have become MIA during this dark season. I am even more astounded by those who have stepped up to show love and compassion through my dark hours.

What am I learning? That it is really true that those who have gone through and acknowledge hardship are the same people who freely offer encouragement and grace to others. The stingiest with compassion are those who have everything or fail to remember what it is like to struggle.

Word to the ignorant: being a Christian does not make one’s problems fade away. Being a Christian does not mean you have the definitive answer for other’s lives. Being a Christian does not excuse you from sounding like one of Job’s friends!

I have met Job’s friends over the past year and sadly they all seem to hold office in the contemporary church.

I can’t help but wonder if some of this path is to help me understand the position of those who are angry at the modern church. I used to focus upon the anger people aimed at Jesus. My own experience points to the people who call themselves children of God as the culprits in the anger factor. I may be wrong but I really think at this moment that the anger people levy at God, Jesus, the Angels, and the Church is truly anger at treatment they have received from the black hearts of many of the Saints of the Lord.

My friend Mark is angry. He says he is angry with God but when pressed, he recounts stories of treatment he received from his sister and her Christian friends in response to him being homosexual.

As I live and hear stories of the living, I remember the old bumper sticker that pleads: “God save me from your people.” May I never get to the point that I fail to acknowledge struggle…may I never walk away from those in need…may I never become one of “those” Christians”…and Please God help me to never make people feel that they are worthless when they are down.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

As Heard In A Song

10/27/2005

“I’m not letting go of God, I’m just losing my grip…” Over the Rhine

A little over a week ago, an elder from the church I attend told me point blank that my volunteer work at one of the local shelters for hurricane evacuees is useless because it is not monetarily fruitful. He further explained that since I was not being paid for my work with those in need, it really held no benefit. Umm, I guess he needs to have a little heart-to-heart talk with all of the overseas missionaries he and the church has supported over the years! Sad to think that the only missions work he may believe worthwhile is that which is done in a foreign land.

The deeper I get involved in organized religion, the more despondent I’ve become. It’s not God I am loosing a grip on – or His grip on me. Rather, It seems as if something in me does not line up with the current state of the Ecumenical church. I feel like an unwanted, disrespected, lost child.

Currently I sense a strong connection to St. John who was exiled on the island of Patmos. I feel as if I have been left alone on some shaky island to figure out something currently unknown. Maybe my exile is meant to draw me closer to the One whom has saved me. Maybe it is a vacation island in disguise structured to get me away from all the bullshit I have heard masked as truth. Or maybe it is even here to whisk me away from all the mute robes and talking heads that only spout age old cliches, American proverbs, and other mindless crap.

If I do make a break from the “Church” as it is commonly seen, I do know I will deeply miss participating in the weekly celebration of the Eucharist. Receiving the elements is such a powerful moment and the true volition of our gatherings.

As I write this, I’m clearly remembering last week’s encounter. I’m wondering how a person can come to the conclusion that offering time, compassion, companionship, bread, direction, and laughter to those in need can be deemed as a futile exercise – as a waste of time and energy.

Honesty, I am in a time of personal need. I figuratively wanted to cut off my ears when I heard another person from the church I attend (ed?) say, “you have given so much to those you help, how about going to them and ask for financial payback”.

I’m so stuck on WTF that I can hardly see straight!

Needless to say, it has been a weird time in life. I’m trying very hard to find things to laugh about. I am striving to remember the joy I have in giving and loving. I am held by the affection of friends that I have been fortunate to meet alone this path. Friends like Sarah whom I dearly love and who loves me more than she probably should. Margarita who seems to instinctively know when I need to hear her laugh on the phone or on my answering machine. Karen, who is learning under fire how to shut up, be still, and just watch the moon and stars. Roger who allows me to be honest about my struggles and encourages me more than he probably realizes. Finally, Danny Ray who’s reassurance seem to always come when I need to know that I am really alive.

Maybe these people are my church. Maybe this is the church of Zayne since they minister to me in ways beyond human expression.

I can add to the list of those who have been positively helping this wandering soul, the music of Radiohead, Over the Rhine, Cowboy Junkies, Miles Davis, and Shivaree.

And the most prolific of help has been through those whom I have touched and been touched by through the volunteer assistance I have been allowed to provide. I believe this work is the thing that keeps me off of the bridge, train tracks, and medicine aisles of the local drug stores. The people I have met are more precious than green, gold, silver, or diamonds. Contrary to the selfish thoughts of some, that is fruitful. That is worth it all.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Anonymous No More

10/12/2005

Yes race….errrrr…Blog fans, the time has come to close off the ability for anyone visiting to leave a comment. Blame it on those damn pesky blog spammers. Amazing how they find a way to screw up every good thing.

Peace,
zss

Wednesday

I've said it before but it bears repeating: INSOMNIA SUCKS!!!!!!

On late night/early morning news, it was announced that there are only 10 weeks before Christmas 2005. Why do i so not care?

peace,
zss

Sometimes Forgotten

10/11/2005

Sometimes Forgotten
The Way to Believing
That Something Lies Hopeful
Along The Lost Road.

Peaceful Beginnings Bring
Nothing to Pleasure
And Lifetimes of Passion
Bring Nothing to Hold.

Sometimes Forgotten
Like Embers in Winter
The Fairies Are Useless
The Moon Fails To Glow.

And Children of Leisure
Look Over the Rainbow
Hoping For Something
That’s Real and Unknown.

For Lifetime Has Faded
And No One Is Listening
The Screams of the Wounded
Remain Unexposed.

While Men in Their Comfort
Turn Eyes up Unnoticed
For Fear That the Darkness
May On Them Enfold.

Sometimes Forgotten
Yet Hopeful Remembrance
It’s Dreams of the Future
That’s Something to Hold.

But Once the Frail Light Fades
And Once the Cold Night Falls
The Sometimes Forgotten
Sinks Deep In It’s Hole.

zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Times Up

09/29/2005

Shhhhhh!

Don’t tell my doctor.

The meds aren’t working the same as they used to anymore.

I would hate for him to find out. It would burst the bubble in his puffed out chest.

Actually, I don’t care to be poked and prodded for the umpteenth time to see what chemistry lesson he can practice to make my world rightside up again.

He has been so happy after the past few appointments. I can still see him smiling brightly at my clean bill of health just like the big smile a friend bestowed upon me as she handed out a bowl of rotting fruit.

I really thought this was it. I thought that finally I might know what it’s like to live as the common world does. I’m tired of being special. I’m tired of people saying, “you don’t look sick” just because I don’t have limbs falling off or machines protruding out of my body. I thought this was it. Maybe if I look sicker, like stopped doing my hair, and ceased finding things to laugh about – maybe then people will take my shitty health seriously.

No wonder the medical field is called medical practice. I am just a guinea pig for the mad scientist and drug companies of the world.

I wish there was a Gregory House MD who could spend an episodes amount of time with my history so that I can walk out into the sunset all fixed and happy. But no, this is my life. Things are only fixed temporarily. Each fix brings sadness because I know it won’t last long. I am well aware that I only have a short time to get involved with the excruciatingly mundane events of the living until I feel like dying once again.

Even in this darkness, it feels so stupid to celebrate the good times and mourn my passing health. It all seems like such a drain. Also, my sadness at the ending of good days seems so wrong and useless.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Just Stop Yourself

09/22/2005

A Baptist pastor was on television news today stating God sent hurricane Katrina as judgment against the people of New Orleans for all of their sin. WTF!!!???!!!

As I read my Bible, I find that judgment will begin with the household of God, not among those who do not know Him. I also read that those who cause others to stumble will be called into account. AND I read that those in positions of Church leadership will be judged more severely than others will be. I think it would serve the pastor who spoke these words of derision well to re-read his Bible and get to know Jesus all over again.

My prayers for those who have heard this condemnation is that the Spirit of God will bring them peace and let the words float over them without doing any harm. I also pray that those who congregate under this man take him into account for his reckless words. Mostly, I wish stupid would shut up.

Not in peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Lineage

09/19/2005

My Native American/Irish/Jewish grandfather married my African American grandmother whose family moved to the mid-west after the Emancipation from who knows where.

Their union netted my father who married a southern girl of African American, Native American, and Caucasian decent.

My parents produced children with this bloodline who were raised in multiracial suburban communities.

Further, born in the Orient, I spent the first years of my life among Asian Cultures.

What does that make me? This question plagued me for most of my life.

I don’t think my “box” really matters but it sure seems to be important to those around me. From grade school surveys to door-to-door polls people have asked me to define myself within very narrow boundaries. I have been asked countless times to limit myself relative to one culture. Am I African American or Native American? Usually, no one even considers any other designation because my skin is so dark.

Honestly, I like being multiracial. I like fucking with the minds of those who strut into my world as if they know what makes me tick because they’ve seen “Boyz in the Hood” or an episode of The Cosby Show.

I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve been asked to explain the lifestyle of Inner-city minorities. Just because my skin is ebony does not mean I have lived in the Ghetto. I’m a suburban kid…a child whose first words were laded with Japanese phrases. I don’t have a brother named T-Bone, an aunt named Big Mama who runs a whorehouse, or a cousin named Crackpipe who has done more time in the pen than on the streets. I have never been involved in a drive by. I have no idea what the “M” line is, AND I have no idea what every black person in the world thinks about every subject under the sun – brown and black skinned people do not have a uni-brain.

Just why is it so important for people to know which box you check on surveys? I may go to my grave wondering why people think it’s so important to know “what I am”. Isn’t it more important to know “who I am”?

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Pretty Words

09/13/2005

Today I spent about 5 hours with two evacuees from Hurricane Katrina (or if you are as uninformed as Laura Bush: KARINA). We went to the local Walk-In Medical Center, shopped at K-mart and then, by their request, made an appearance at Kentucky Fried Chicken. It was fun. We laughed, acted up, talked about music and the hard stuff of losing everything in an instant. There were times I even forgot the two people with me were in a strange city far away from what they knew and the people they have had relationships with for years. See, for the hours we were together, we were family joined together by an event 100’s of miles away.

I really don’t have much to say – it’s hard to put such white-hot emotion into words. Being with these dear ones left an imprint upon my heart that is not easily translated into words.

Things I have heard since getting involved with the evacuees ring in my ears as I’m drifting off to sleep each night. These words include cussing, laughing, tears, and the back-stories of the survivors. I encourage every able person to get involved with the relief effort. I promise you will be blessed more than you thought you could ever be. You will be helped more than you ever thought you could help.

The words that keep dropping into my ears from tonight were: “thank you “Z” for not being careful with us…” The woman who spoke these words was happy I shot the shit with her and did not treat her as if she was too fragile to be involved with life. I knew my certain brand of insanity would come in handy someday. I never thought it would take disaster to affirm the disaster of my back-story.

Please keep these dear ones in heart and prayer. AND when you do meet them, remember they are not lepers whose legs may evanesce at a non-PC aside. They are humans who are making a new start. Some are scared, some are angry about their losses, and still others are embarrassed that they are so needy. Actually, I have found that the most angry evacuees are those who are embarrassed by their need. At the end of the day, all pales in knowing that God has used you to share His love with others. And, sometimes you may hear “thank you”.

Truly, the prettiest words are “THANK YOU”.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Katrina

08/04/2005

I just came face-to-face with Katrina in the eyes of some of those she left wounded in her wake.

The hurt and shell-shocked are roaming the halls of a local rescue facility. Men and women in wheelchairs and wrapped in bandages look like they are reliving the devastation with each blink of an eye – with every step.

Quiet. The building was so quiet as if noise would alert the storm gods to where they fled for refuge. They are so quiet indeed as not to awaken the storm gods.

During my visit, I met one smile from a little 13-month old girl named Mariesa. She ran and laughed like she wanted to send a message to those of us who were sitting silently. Today is a day of new beginnings for her. Today is a day of more memories for the rest.

As I left the facility, a woman I had spoken with gave me a long hard hug while thanking me for being there and making her laugh.

I cried on the way home. Honestly, I do not even remember portions of my drive away from the city of refuge. What I do remember is thinking that God has called us to help. I remembered my Pastor’s sermon stating that God has called us to be compassionate.

I do not have money or a lot of other resources but I do have a heart so I gave what I have. I made my offering not from my excess but rather from my lack. I gave what I had and it was all those I encountered wanted. Along with underwear and socks, clothes, food, and housing, they really want to know that they are not alone. These dear people are desperate to know someone gives a shit.

Maybe I didn’t so much come in contact with Katrina tonight but actually came face-to-face with the basic human desire to love and be loved.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

...they've taken a toll these latter days

Oh Martha!!

08/31/2005

I’ve always been somewhat of a cynic but the whole Martha Stewart crap has brought out the worst in me. Any vestige of naivete I had was killed during her trial, sentencing, and now total release.

The child in me wants to still think that all people are treated equally. Yeah, I know, life has told me over and over again that this isn’t so, but I still want to think it. At least I can have my dreams – right?

I am bothered that Martha Stewart and her friends cheated themselves into a lot of money at the expense of the hardworking poor and middle class.

I am bothered that Martha Stewart and her friends have not been required to pay back with interest the money that they stole to the people who lost so much.

I’m bothered that Martha Stewart “served time” in a Frou Frou prison for her crime. She lied about her involvement to the Courts…IIRC Missy Elliot did the same thing and got a One-year prison sentence – but I digress.

I’m really bothered that Martha Stewart is in the spotlight and does not even seem a tad bit sorry for what she did.

And I’m extremely bothered that even her parole violation did not deter the inequality of law enforcement in our country.

Face it, if it were you or me we would still be locked up in San Quentin’s lower dungeon fighting mice for breadcrumbs and stagnant water. If it were you or me, part of our sentence would have been that we could not make a profit from our crimes.

But it’s not us. It’s the royalty in our world racking up royalties from their royal flush.

I cannot even shop at K-Mart because I don’t want my dollars to get filtered to Martha…goodness knows the country had to pay for her stay at Frou Frou while we sat confined out of confinement trying to get our ends to meet.

Through this thought, I’m amazed that I’m still amazed. Maybe there really is a little bit of the wide-eyed wonder still alive in me.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Two Words

THE DEAD

Rail for Life

08/23/2005

I do not claim to be the smartest person in the world but sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one to “get” some stuff.

Yesterday, a 27 year old man near my city committed suicide by driving his car across a parking lot, over an embankment, down a steep grade, and into the river below.

Today, the news is full of people up in arms shouting that the embankment is dangerous. There is a community outcry for a guardrail to be put in place to protect the public from crossing over the parking lot to get to the river in this manner.

The deceased had a brother who committed suicide three years ago in the same manner – at the same location. The brother was 22 at the time he committed suicide. The community is using this as evidence to prove that the property owner is remiss by not having a guardrail installed.

Unless I’m missing something, the parking lot, embankment, and grade to the river are soooo far secondary in this story. In my mind, the real story is: “WHY DID THESE TWO YOUNG MEN BELIEVE SUICIDE WAS THE ONLY WAY TO DEAL WITH THEIR PROBLEMS?” WHAT WAS GOING ON IN THEIR LIVES, BACKGROUNDS, AND HEARTS THAT LEFT THEM TO DECIDE UPON SUICIDE???” And, WHERE WERE THE PEOPLE IN THEIR LIVES THAT THEY COULD TALK TO WHEN THEY WERE FEELING HOPELESS?

This is indeed a sad story but let’s look deeper than railing. Something more important is going on here. If a person is planning to kill himself, he is going to try to find a way…if he is intent on killing himself, well placed guardrails will NOT make a difference.

May peace come soon to the Brown family, their friends, and the community in which they live.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Terminal

08/18/2005

I spent a portion of my day with one of my dear friends that is fighting cancer. For some reason I have never thought about her having a terminal illness– could it be denial?

Today, I ran a couple of errands for her to get DVD rentals and groceries. When I returned, we sat around, talked, and laughed – she thanked me for the laughter. It was at that moment that I came face-to-face with my refusal to acknowledge how sick she is.

Chemotherapy is kicking her butt. One more round is scheduled but DAMN what it does to her. She doesn’t have any energy. She’s sad – almost depressed, and unless talking about the series “Sex and the City,” the light in her eyes is missed.

We met at an Over the Rhine concert a couple of years ago at a very ornate Church in our city. She recognized me from our semi-large Anglican congregation and introduced herself. It took a few weeks before we hooked up to do something together but…here we are a few short years later living as good friends who know what each other’s secrets are. She is one of the few people who knows the hundreds of ways to contact me 24/7.

Terminal is one of those words that is supposed to be used to describe other people. It is for people whom I don’t have a personal relationship with. It is for people whose animals never take over my shoes when I take them off. Terminal is for people who would screech when I walk though their doors without knocking. Terminal is for THEM…not for people I care about…not for those I love!

Children and people with good hearts are not supposed to go through this crap. To the end of my life, I may not make peace with the fact that law abiding people have to deal with a lot of shit while assholes like Charles Manson live smugly with three square meals a day, a roof over his head, free medical, and free education.

Today everything seems so wrong. Today, everything seems terminal.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Urgent Prayer Needed!!!!

08/13/2005

when you get an opportunity, please pray for my pastor and his family. his little girl has become infected with e-coli. her kidneys shut down (the doctors are not sure if this is temporary or perm damage). she was taken into surgery thursday afternoon to have a cath inserted so that she could start receiving dialysis.

friday morning, she also began receiving blood transfusions, as her blood is failing to make platelets. The medical personnel can do nothing to make her kidneys begin to function or her blood to produce the platelets. sophie’s body must be healed and begin to function on its own.

thanks ahead of time for joining us in prayer for this little girl and her family.

peace,
z

18 to 80

08/07/2005

A notion that falls into the "things I never thought about before" category.

I had a conversation awhile back with a friend of mine who is in her mid to late eighties. She is a sweet lady whose husband died about 7 years ago.

When I met Fanny 8 years ago, she was taking care of her 102-year-old bed-bound mother. That by itself is an interesting thought to wrap ones head around. There were times she could not go out because she didn’t have anyone to keep an eye on her mother.

Ok – back to the conversation.

I was visiting with her one afternoon over tea when she mentioned one of the struggles she has with aging. She said "It feels so strange to be old because on the inside, I still feel the same as I did with I was 18…there are times I walk past the mirrors in my house and wonder who that old lady is." She went further to say, "Since my inside and my mind is still like an 18 year old, I get frustrated when my decaying body does not cooperate with me…I cry sometimes because I cannot do the things with my body that my mind still sees as a possibility…"

WOW! I never thought about that. I had always thought that everything gets older at the same time. I recall my great-grandmother who used to LOVE to look at men with "pretty legs". Since she was a senior citizen, we all laughed about this and said "oh how cute the old lady likes men’s legs…" She is famous for giving advise to the women in the family to "marry a man with pretty legs, that way, when you are mad at him, you will have something to look at."

The above is one of my favorite memories but after my conversation with Fanny, it takes on a different meaning. I realize now that the woman who spoke these words was not the wrinkled granny before me but rather, the young lady who still dwelled within her.

My great grandmother died 3 ½ years ago right before her 101st birthday. I wish I had this knowledge before she left this earth. She was always my grandmother – the way I related to her. But this information is so powerful. It would have been interesting to have a conversation with her – with her knowing it was ok to let the 18 year old living within her to come out to play.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

Wrosesongs

08/06/2005

Somewhere in the deep darkness
Part calls to past
Wiggling free of encumbrances
Which should have been gone long ago

Reaching through the emptiness
Songs numb of hope
Broken speech and accidents
Of a life that’s gone too wrong

Calling out to someone
Faint hints to faith
Willows dip too slowly
As the rose moans for conquest.

zss

***still chasing this one

i’ve been memed

08/04/2005

number of books i own:
tough question. there are books in every room of my home. so…a couple of hundred – maybe.

reading style:
my favorite time to read is during rainy days and nights. i have an old oversized chair next to the bay window that provides the perfect setting for reading. also, reading music is important. i always choose instrumentals like miles davis, john coltrane, or linford detweiler.

last book i bought:
plan b by anne lamott

last book i read:
currently reading: the wizard of oz by l. frank baum

five books that mean a lot to me:
the sonnets of william shakespeare
traveling mercies by anne lamott
screwtape letters by cs lewis
ordinary people written by judith guest
the bible by many writers

books and book sales are the quickest way to get me all hot and bothered. i’m a book nerd but that doesn’t bother me. the only time i remember not being excited by books was during high school. the required reading list killed my love of the written word. i basically hated each book we were assigned to read. i know "catcher in the rye" is a couple of my friend’s favorite book but i hate, hate, and hated it more than i dislike george w. bush! – now that’s saying something.

A guy named phil from the church I used to attend introduced the works of anne lamott to me. he was so excited about her work that i just had to submit to his entreaty and check her out. i now blame him for the $100+ dollars gone from my wallet.

screwtape letters – wow! what can be said that hasn’t been said a million times? i think i need to pick the book up again soon.

ordinary people is the first book i remember reading that i finally said – "ahhh that’s it. that’s the way to describe indescribable human emotions."

and billy shakey – if he wasn’t old and dead, i would probably stalk him. his sonnets resonate deeply in my heart. the wisdom he has – the true gift he shares…especially sonnet 29. the 29th is the first sonnet i memorized. i something believe he knew i would be placed on this earth to read those words. how less alone i feel after sipping tea with the sonnets in my hands.

the bible requires no explanation imnsho. i don’t read it as much as i wish i did but the years of steady reading are stuck in and with me.

so, dan, how did i do - i'm passing this on to k-dawg (http://thesecretroom.blogspot.com/) !

peace,
zss
© 2005 wrosesongs
all rights reserved

Diversification?

07/31/2005

"…Blah Blah County is so diversified, with people from all over the nation moving here, we have decided to present something that will celebrate the diversity of our county by organizing a Bluegrass festival…"

HUH?

I read this story a couple of days ago and am still scratching my head. How does a Bluegrass Festival celebrate the diversity in the county I’m living in?

The bluegrass festival was held this weekend in the Town Square. A friend of mine checked it out with her family. When I asked her about the diversity of people attending, she laughed heartily. "What diversity of people? It was as white as white can get."

I showed her another event planned for the area to celebrate "the people living in our county…" The other event held in August is another country and bluegrass music event. There’s even a hog-calling contest planned.

Again I ask, how does this celebrate the diversity of peoples in the area? My friend jokingly said the events are organized to "celebrate the diversity of white people…you know: blonde, red, brunette, and gray hair…"

I’m glad we can laugh about it but what about the organizers? Do they even recognize the humor in their advertisements? Did anyone on the planning committees say, "Whoa, what are we doing here?" Were any people from our large and growing African American, Hispanic, Indian, and Native American Cultures invited to join the planning committee?

Maybe on one of the days of the August event, I will invite my diversified group of friends over to celebrate our love. I think I should also invite members of County Event Planning Group stop by to celebrate with us.

Peace,
zss

© 2005 Wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved

i am zayne

Friday, January 23, 2009

About David

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Impressed

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Barack Obama Victory Plates

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Personal Financial Management System

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

In The News- Or I'm so embarrassed by my state...

Barack Obama cited for codes violation in Memphis

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Vote 2008

Monday, November 03, 2008

Politics of Religion

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Emptiness Becomes Openness

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Ellen and Portia - 08/16/2008

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Karma

Friday, August 08, 2008

Personal Thoughts: 08/08/2008

Friday, July 25, 2008

WTF!

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Cocoa Mulch - Warning for Pet Owners

Saturday, June 28, 2008

CORNERSTONE BOUND

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Oh sleep, where art thou?

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Separation

Monday, April 21, 2008

Question of the Day

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Quote to Remember

Monday, March 17, 2008

Favorite Things...

Monday, January 28, 2008

Just a Question

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

A Plea

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Choices

Friday, December 28, 2007

The Mickey Factor

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

The Quilt **

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

V oices in the Night

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Alphabet Words

Thursday, October 11, 2007

First thing in the Morning

Friday, July 13, 2007

What Can I Say

Monday, July 02, 2007

July 2, 2007

Monday, June 25, 2007

June 25 2007

Friday, June 15, 2007

June 15 2007

Thursday, June 07, 2007

June 7, 2007

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

May 15, 2007

Monday, May 07, 2007

MAY 7, 2007

Thursday, May 03, 2007

May 3, 2007

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Quote of the Day

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Today's Mood

Sunday, April 08, 2007

On Being

3/29/2007

Friday, March 30, 2007