wingsuit base jumping from Ali on Vimeo.

We Have Ignition

Out of the 6,500,000,000 people alive on earth right now, there are 7 who are in space orbiting the planet at 17,000 miles per hour. Just 7 of them. Conducting experiments that will improve life for the other 6,499,999,993 of us.

I watched them blast off on Friday night.

Thanks NASA.

Politics Aside

I will bet that 95% of the blogisphere today is about recent political events, like, say, a recent election in the U.S.

OK, count me in on the conversation. Except, I'm not really thinking politically. Just with my heart right now. And here's what I see:

Two little Obama girls running around in the White House!

If you were around in the '60's, like I was, then you might share a little bit of my excitement over such a reality coming to pass in the near future.

I don't think that needs much explanation. Just picture it with me and smile.

We're Out of Gas

Lessons learned:

1. Gas is a privilege and convenience, not an inalienable right.
2. The least effective way to get people to calm down is to say, "Calm down, people."
3. Gas is actually pretty cheap. I've got the pricetags all switched up: $4 for a latte (10 oz. at most, which translates to $52 per gallon) doesn't tick me off as much as $4 per gallon for gas.
4. A latte is a privilege and convenience, not an inalienable right.
5. My motorcycle does not run on lattes.
6. My belly does not run on gas. (no puns, please.)
7. Walking is surprisingly good for you.
8. Adapt and overcome. (Thanks Joel)
9. Jeremy, check the Exxon on the corner of Murphy and West End...(I found gas at midnight last night, after 5 days of searching.)
10. Come on, this is Nashville! We don't need gas to write the songs that make the whole world sing!

Happy gas hunting!

SPAM

Let's do a little word study.

The word? Spam.

The first image that comes to my mind is of a friend of mine who was invited to 'entertain' at a Bat Mitzvah party, and after a silly contest with the Jewish participants tried to give the winner her prize, a can of SPAM.

The shock and horror on the woman's face as my friend tried to convince her to take the prize from her ("it's not really ham, it's Spam! You can touch it!") can only be imagined.

The second image that comes to my mind is the pile of unsolicited e-mails and bot-generated myspace and facebook messages that I have spent hours of precious time clearing out of accounts. No, I don't want to safely store your $30 million in my bank account so that your corrupt government won't take it from you (all you need is my bank account information and passwords so the deposit can be made directly to my account! Awesome!). No I don't want to try your 'free' sunglasses for just the price of postage and handling, which happens to be $29.95. And no, I don't want to see where photos of me have been posted on whotheheckcares.com.

I won't go on. I could waste just as much of my precious time describing all the varied forms of spam that have shown up to invade my safe little online world.

Is there a toxic waste dump in cyberspace? Whatever 'cyberspace' is, spam probably takes up a good 35 percent of it. I pity the cybers. They have more junk than we humans do in our 'humanspace.' Go green, cybers, go green!

The last image I will conjure is that square can of pink 'meat' that 'nourishes' millions of people daily. I don't in any way want to cast a negative shadow on this food item. It's just that I know far more about the cyber version. And it IS UNFORTUNATE for the company that packages SPAM that their name has been hijacked to mean 'all that is unwanted' in online communication.

I will probably, very soon, buy a box...can...package...not sure what to call it...of SPAM and fry up a slice for a sandwich just to voice my defiance of online spam, and in defiance of the cruel hijacking of SPAM's good name. But I will probably scrape that slimy layer of white whatever that fills those little air gaps in the corners between the SPAM and the can.

Fire up the griddle.

Why Pirates Wear Eyepatches

Pirates are geniuses.

I always thought it strange that so many pirates had lost an eye in their swashbuckling sea adventures. It seems every time I see a pirate, or a rendering of a pirate, there is an eyepatch involved. But now I understand why.

The truth is, most pirates have two good eyes. Very good eyes. They work perfectly. So why the patch? It's genius.

Suppose you're a pirate, out on deck of your creaking, moaning, splintery pirate ship. You're in tropical waters, like say the Caribbean (did you pronounce that right in your head? --our friendship depends on it). Anyway, the sun is directly above you, bright and hot, and you are overtaking another vessel which you plan to hijack. You climb your mast and swing on a rope to deftly and pirately land on the deck of the other vessel, and your swordfight begins against the other crew. Now here's where your eyepatch comes in handy:

You suddenly pursue one of your hijackees (who of course has no eyepatch like you do) through the hatch and below deck. Your opponent stumbles around and bumps into things waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting below deck. But YOU, you GENIUS PIRATE, simply switch your eyepatch to your other eye, and you instantly have perfect vision, already adjusted to darkness because your eyepatch has been keeping the bright sunlight out, just for a moment like this.

Oh dear. I'm more impressed with pirates every day. I think I'll go read 'Treasure Island' again.

Arrgh!

Don't get me started on the genius of peg legs and hook hands.

Let's Call The Whole Thing Off

I'm sitting at a coffee shop on an island very close to the equator, and I have a sunburn. (Yes, I'm drinking my coffee iced...it's too hot for hot coffee!)

Coffee shops have clever names. This one is called "Perk Up". I like that. I have a great name for a coffee shop if I ever open one up, but I can't tell you, because you might steal it. Anyway, there's another coffee shop nearby called the "Carib-Bean", get it? Bean? Get it?

This launched me into thinking about the way we pronounce the word "Caribbean".

Some say "ker-ri-BEE-an" and others say "kah-RIB-ee-an". Not sure which is right, or if both are acceptable. Either way, I think I have to start choosing my friends based on their pronunciation of the word Caribbean.

If you don't say it my way, I think I'll just have to move on to another friend. I mean, no offense, but if you're not like me, then why should we be friends? I'd rather be friends with people who are like me.

The End.

********************

Ok. I'm tempted to end this blog right here, but I realize some of you would be offended. So, for those of you who easily miss subtle and obvious layers of satire, let me explain:

I'm commenting on how silly we humans are at closing out people who are not like us. And not just in the obvious ways. I'm not really great at this myself, but I think we should make an effort to ENJOY people who are different than we are. Whether that is how we look, or what language we use, or what political views we have, or even what we believe.

So, today, here's your assignment. Go have a cup of coffee with someone who is different than you are. Someone you would normally keep at a distance. And don't argue with them about their different views, and don't try to change their mind. Just enjoy the difference and love them as a fellow person.

After all, we're all human beans, aren't we?

Get it? Beans? Get it?