Friend or Foe

Sometimes, when the nuts are all gathered and safely stored, when the snow lies thick upon the ground and there is not much to do but to stay snug in the nest and out of the bitter winds, a squirrel's thoughts may turn philosophical.

On this occasion, I have been reflecting on the meaning of friendship. Is a friend someone who gives you support and love unconditionally? Or is a friend someone who stand up and risks even the friendship to tell you when you are doing something wrong?

Recently, I had a friend who wanted to take a very big life-changing step and who needed my help and direct support to achieve it. I did just that because I wanted to show my unconditional support but since then I wondered if I had done the right thing. Deep down, I have my doubts about whether my friend had made the decision for change for the right reasons and there is a fear that things will not work out as my friend had hoped.

So have I done the right thing by offering unconditional support? If so, why do I feel that I have contributed to a train wreck that is yet to happen?

The alternative would probably to tell my friend that he is about to make an ass of himself and as I friend I will not participate in his "ass-ification". I might lose him as a friend though and would be unlikely to have swayed his course. But would I at least achieve a "moral" victory? Hmmm.

When I look back at my own life experiences, I remember a time when a friend told me I would be certifiably insane if I pursued my desire to be a psychologist. Her point was that there were few career opportunities for psychologists in Malaysia and I would probably end up being a starving psychologist. I remember thanking her for her candid input but deep down I wondered why she would try to ruin my dreams and aspirations with mere facts and reality.

In hindsight, I am happy with the career that I did pursue even though it has little to do with psychology. Yet even though till today we remain close friends, that incident still shines like a beacon across the darkness of time to remind me that I did not get the support I wanted. The conclusion from my own experience would suggest that even I value support rather than the truth from a friend.

Yet, there is a part of me that would like to believe in the higher ideal that friendship must be about truth and what is good for the other person above all else ......even the friendship itself. In other words, better to be a good friend or even an ex-friend than a mere "yes"-man friend.

What do you think? What type of friend would you prefer? Please advice the squirrel.

Music for a Funk

I am feeling a little down. My wife is away, traveling and I miss her. I got the flu. Work is piling up and so are the bills. And, there is conflict at work. I don't do conflict well. I guess you can say that I am in a funk. I had no idea what to post tonight but I went over The Walking Man's blog and something happened as I read his poem, TIRED OF BEING WET AND COLD?

The poem somehow reminded me of the lyrics of a song that was a particular favorite of mine when I went through my depression period. This 1969 song was sung by the singularly talented Peggy Lee and was written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. The song was inspired by the story "Disillusionment" by Thomas Mann, written in 1896. You know that you are depressed when even the greatest joys, greatest excitements and the greatest loss leaves you with nothing but a numb, empty feeling.

So in line with my current gloomy mood and my philosophy of "why should I suffer alone?", I would like to share this dark song which is ideal for stewing in a funk. For those of you who mistakenly thought that I was going to play funky music, you can leave now. It's music for a funk and not funky music.

Reflecting on 47

"Do not try this at home".

Well, this is the first day after my 47th birthday and the first day of the rest of my life. I was completely pampered by my wife this last weekend and had a very nice gourmet meal at a fancy restaurant yesterday. So in many ways, life has been good.

However, as usual, I get introspective at these times. And as I took some time to reflect upon my life thus far, I feel very blessed, happy and contented.

My career hasn't turned out the way I expected but I have had fun doing it (for the most part) and come close to the top of my eventual career path. More important to me is that I feel that I have been fortunate to have participated in some projects that have brought benefits to the community.

I am happily married and my social life is quite satisfactory. Financially, I suffer the fate of working for a non-profit organisation. As such, I am not rolling in money but again, I am comfortable and thankful for that.

I have for a long time held that the secret of happiness is to be content and I find that it has worked well for me. However, one has to wonder if someone can be too content.

There is the anecdotal tale of the experiment where a frog is placed in a pan of water. As long as the water is heated gently so that its temperature increases very slowly, the frog will adapt to the slowly increasing heat and not sense danger. In this way, the frog will make no attempt to escape and will eventually be boiled alive. (Please do not try this at home).

The scientific accuracy of the story is doubtful but the story serves to warn against our tendency to accept small changes and not be alerted to its potential danger until it is too late.

Perhaps this is the inherent problem of being content; that we fail to make decisions or take actions which might further enrich our lives. Being content should not mean that we should have no dreams or aspirations.

Therefore, I think I should be more pro-active in making positive changes in my spiritual life, in my family life, social life and at work. In each, I hope to have a more positive impact on those around me; to build up my personal relationship with God and to be more of an agent of His love.

So as I begin the rest of my life, this is the pledge that I make to myself. After all, I don't want to end up as a boiled frog!

May Madness

First, a warning. This is the type of post in which the beginning and the end has very little relation to each other except via the convoluted connections made in my unkempt mind.

So to start the post, I had hoped to give due recognition to May 1st which is an internationally recognised holiday which may be called the International Worker's Day or Labour Day. I have to qualify this statement. Most countries in the world celebrate Labour Day on May 1st with a few notable exceptions which include the USA (September 5th) and Canada (first Monday in September). Labour Day was meant to commemorate victories and achievements in the fight for workers' rights and in particular the adoption of an 8 hour working day.

For most of the world, May 1st was chosen to remember the Haymarket Massacre in Chicago in 1886 during which police fired upon workers taking part in a general strike in support of the 8 hour working day. The USA, on the other hand, wanted to distance itself from remembering that incident and also from the strong support of May 1st by Socialist and Communist groups and chose September 5th instead which commemorated a working man's parade in New York by the Knights of Labour in 1882. Canada's Labour Day in turn commemorates a different struggle, this time by the printers in Toronto in 1872 but also for a shorter work hours.

This is perhaps a rather long-winded way to say that I am on holiday today. It made me think though that so many of us take for granted the Labour Day holidays and think of it merely as an opportunity for a long weekend. In doing so, we are also taking for granted the basic workers' rights that most of us currently enjoy and do a disservice to the memory of those who fought for these rights and who, in some cases, paid with their lives for it.

Those of us with jobs should be even more grateful as the world reels under the current economic crisis, for many will be losing their jobs and facing great difficulties. Some will come to the edge of the precipice. Some may go off the edge. We cannot tell how much damage and human suffering will result from this crisis which many are saying is as bad as and perhaps worse than the Great Depression. I read with sadness, stories of men killing their whole family before killing themselves. Recently at Jay's blog, we read of someone jumping to his death. While I do not know why he jumped, many others have jumped due to the pain brought on by financial despair.

While in no way do I condone these actions, I can understand to a degree, why these people have resorted to these actions. They have lost hope. The tragedy is that they cannot see the hope that may be just round the corner. All of us must be responsible to share each other's burdens and to hold out hope to those immersed in hopelessness.

The Great Depression was certainly a time of great hardship and of great despair. An affluent America may perhaps have forgotten the hard lessons learnt back then but with the current economic crisis, some of those ugly days may be back again.

Here is where my brain makes a sharp turn and heads off into a new direction. For this, we have to return to a recent post in which I answered a question on which book, art piece, or music has been an influence on my life. Missing from the list is which movie has been an influence. As I was considering this post and my thoughts moved over to the Great Depression, this movie came to mind. It was the 1969 Sydney Pollack drama entitled "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?".

This movie was set in the Depression period and focussed on a couple taking part in a dance marathon competition. The 1,500 dollars prize money draws many other desperate individuals to participate as a way out of their dilemma. However, when our protagonists (Jane Fonda and Michael Sarrazin) discover that the organisers intend to cheat the winners by imposing all kinds of deductions, what fragile hope that they still harbored seemed to vanish like the morning mist.
In the aftermath, Jane's character asks Michael's character for help to commit suicide. He shoots her in the head and later when the police asks him why he did it, he replied, "They shoot horses, don't they?"

This movie was very influential to me, making me realise and understand more about the state of hope and hopelessness. The last line and title of the movie was a cynical reminder that we ofter treat animals better than we treat our fellow humans. As I had said, I do not condone the actions of all those who kill their families and/or themselves because of the financial crisis. They may have lost hope but I believe hope is always just round the corner. Certainly, there is more to life that is worthwhile and which is not lost just due to financial distress. However, what they may have needed is someone to reach out to them and remind them that there is still hope; that the total darkness they find themselves in is only a temporary eclipse, to sit with them in the darkness until they can find the sun again in the smiles of their friends and the love of their families.

So to end this post, I will include this clip of some of the more significant scenes of this movie that won an Oscar for Gig Young as Best Supporting Actor and got 7 other nominations.

Unburied Nuts from 17th November 2006: Goodnight, Mrs. Legatt

The "Unburied Nuts" series is an unashamed effort to recycle some of my earlier postings when I am too stressed out to create something new to post. This offering is certainly from the earliest period when the Lone Grey Squirrel was not so grey but going through a mid-life crisis anyway. I hope you like it.

As we travel through life, we pick up a lot of junk. Not surprising, I am a bit of a pack rat and will not allow things I collect to be put out for a yard sale without a fight. For me, these are more than just items, they are symbols of my life journey. More than things though, we each meet a whole host of people. Some have been a big influence on our lives while others less so but they all touched our lives and were part of the shaping of who we are and what we believe. Some of them taught us great life truths and yet others got us wondering about life.

Tonight, I find my mind traveling through time and space until I find myself sitting by the bedside of Ms. Legatt. My younger self was a thin insecure teenager who found himself thousands of kilometers away from home in a strange and cold place called Brighton, United Kingdom, so as to have the opportunity to study. Once a week, I took part as a volunteer in a community out reach project. My assignment was to visit shut-ins. These are elderly people who are pretty much bed-ridden or house bound. Food is sent to them by Meals-on-Wheels which are run by other volunteers and they get a visit from the community nurse a few times a week. Very often their only other visitors and social contact was with volunteers like myself.

Brighton Pavillion

The truth was that for many of the community volunteers, visiting shut-ins were the least desirable of assignments. There was always the smell of urine or worse. The rooms or apartments were generally unkept and you might be asked to clean mouldy dishes or throw out the rotting garbage. Many felt that the hour spent there was the most boring way to spend 60 minutes.

Not for me. I was able to ignore the lack of hygiene and cleanliness and perhaps I was also alone in a strange land, I was genuinely able to enjoy the fellowship and because of that I was able to learn quite a lot. So I spent many hours visiting and sharing a cup of tea and a cookie with Ms. Legatt at her bedside. Ms. Legatt was pretty much alone in the world. She had no close family. She was diabetic and bedridden with an amputated leg.

However, we made a connection and in her tales and stories, she was a young girl with the world at her feet. She was thrilled to learn that I was Malaysian. It seemed that she spent the best part of her life traveling in the Far East. She was adventurous for her time. She took on a job with the British Foreign Service and left the dreary British shores soon after the end of the Second World War aboard a warship. Her first port of call was in Singapore where she served in the British Administration and took part in the post war rebuilding. I know many British, like Ms. Legatt, were really carrying out their imperial and colonialist duties. Yet, I believe Malaysians inherited a relatively prosperous and peaceful country at independence and in part it was because of the services and sometimes sacrifice of these servants of the setting Empire. So in all sincerity, I wish to say thank you to all of them.

Ms. Legatt spoke of some girlfriends of like mind and spirit. They made Singapore their playground. They partied and attended all the social events. They rubbed shoulders with high society and my eyes opened wide at some of the adventures and hi-jinks that she related that she sweared involved the crown prince, heir to the Sultanate of Johor.

It was a colorful and exciting life. Ms. Legatt was one of the flowers that shone brightly at the twilight of the Empire in one of the most exotic parts of the world at that time. Somehow she never married, eventually came back to Britain and grew old alone. Somehow she was forgotten.

I remember Ms. Legatt tonight and wonder about my own life. How would I be remembered? All my memories, the victories I celebrate, my loves, my friends, my struggles, my fights, what would they mean when I am old. Who would remember? Who would care? What would my life really count for? Why am I pondering these things? Well, I am about the age where I am due to have a mid-life crisis and as one of my friends is prone to say, “it’s right on time.”

Seriously, I think it is good to take stock of our lives from time to time to see if the things that occupy us, whether it is our work, careers, hobbies, friends, dreams, problems really remain as important against the test of time. As for me, I think you lived a full life, Ms. Legatt and you contributed to shaping a great country. Many may have forgotten but I remember and I enjoyed tea, cookie and friendship. Good night, Ms. Legatt, wherever you are.

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

I did not go to church this Sunday. I am afraid I have no excuse other than I succumbed to temptation and stayed up to the wee hours watching the Olympics coverage and failed to wake up this morning in time..........and I just feel awful for not having spent the time this morning worshiping God.

I know, unfortunately, for many church-goers, the Sunday service has become a chore.....just something they are expected to do. For me, it is about meeting God and having some precious moments in communion with God. Therefore, it does not bother me what others may think because I was absent from church but I myself regret losing that time of fellowship with God that actually is such a great help and encouragement to me through the rest of the week.

If going to church is a chore for you, then you are missing the point. God intended us to be blessed even when we worship Him. It would be good to take time to rekindle the love for God and to rebuild the relationship with Him through heartfelt personal meditation, prayer and reading of His word. Get the relationship right and meeting God becomes a joy and not a chore.

This morning, after failing to make it to church, I had my own quiet personal devotion and I focussed on this wonderful hymn which I would like to share with you.

It was written by Isaac Watts in 1707 and represented a break from the previous tradition where hymns were based solely on biblical texts. Instead, the verses, although biblically sound in doctrine, began to also reflect the believers' spiritual response to the truth. It is entitled, "When I survey the wondrous cross".

I have loved this Hymn since I was a young Christian. In particular, I take note of the contrasting imagery used in the hymn. For example, in the first verse, we are reminded that it was a "wondrous cross" but yet on it, "the Prince of Glory died".

Other notable contrasts include;

a) "sorrow" and "love" flowed mingled down where Jesus took our sorrows as His own because of His love for us.
b) "thorns" compose so rich a "crown". The use of the crown of thorns was meant to mock Jesus but through it He defeats death and gains the true crown of glory.
c) "were the whole realm of nature mine" but "still an offering far too small" reminds us that we can never repay Jesus for what He has done for us.

When I think of God and the way of love that He has shown us, I often have the image of a mother crocodile holding her eggs between her teeth to transport them. Her jaws are so powerful that they can crush bones but here she uses it with such tenderness and delicateness. In the same way, the Almighty, Powerful Creator of the Universe deals with us in amazing tenderness and love........another amazing contrast.

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of Glory died;
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
save in the death of Christ, my God;
all the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were an offering far too small;
love so amazing, so divine,
demands my love, my life, my all.

Unburied Nut from 3rd December 2006; "Thoughts on Happiness and Chasing After Puppies"

Every once in a while, I uncover an old post that I feel could do with another brief moment in the sunlight. Many of these are my early posts which existed at a time when the Realm of the Lone Grey Squirrel was an extremely quiet place with virtually no visitors. Ah, the good ol' lonely days.


“Felicitas est parvus canis calidus”. This is Latin for “Happiness is a warm puppy.” It is actually a quote from the cartoon strip, Peanuts from the 1950’s. I’m not that old, but I probably came across it in my early teens and somehow that phrase has stuck with me all these years. It is clearer to me today, than all those facts on human metabolism that I spent months revising for my final university exams.

Happiness is a warm puppy. Is this statement true? How many of you would agree with it? The fact that I remember it so well through the flight of time must imply that it has struck a deep chord with me. The pursuit of happiness is enshrined in the American Declaration of Independence as one of the unalienable rights of the people. Honestly, there is a lot of pursuing happiness going on in the world today and it’s not just the Americans but everyone that’s doing it. But are most of us looking in all the wrong places? Might we finally find it in a warm puppy?

Singaporeans used to be told that they need to have the 5C’s in this life and this consideration should guide them in the choice of a life partner. The 5C’s has today increased to 7 C’s and are Cash, Car, Certificate (i.e. University degree), Country club, Credit card, Career and Condominium. (Ladies might even have the 8th C which is Carat, i.e. insist on a diamond ring). The idea is that happiness comes from wealth, prestige, elitism, superior intelligence (with a certificate to prove it), achievements at work and the best creature comforts at home. Singaporeans are also famous for not wanting to keep up with the Joneses. No, Singaporeans strive to be ahead of the Joneses and to rub the Joneses noses in it.

Before, Malaysian-Singaporean relationships deteriorate further, let me say that I use Singaporeans to describe a phenomena that is really spreading throughout much of the world and especially so in Asia. Happiness is cold hard cash, a cool reputation and a classy lifestyle. The pursuit of happiness as envisaged above lead many to put career and wealth ahead of family and friends. Fathers who work hard for their children’s future but do not have time to know their children and for the children to know them. Reminds me of a song called “Cat’s in the cradle” by Harry Chapin.

I have worked with native, jungle dwellers and been part of efforts to assimilate them into modern life so that they might have a better standard of living. While it is true that many will benefit from better health care and better schooling for their children, it is equally clear that they were very happy living in the ways of their ancestors in the jungle and transferring them out of the jungle into settlements has not brought them joy. Often, peaceful communities are torn apart by the introduction of money and the concepts of property amongst peoples who used to share the forests bounty with each other. Some of these projects have improved their economic situation but I really do not know whether it has brought happiness.

So, I return to “Felicitas est Parvus Canis Calidus”. I think it is a beautiful metaphor that all of us need to feel warm, secure and to have the feeling of loving and being loved. It has to do with people; friends and family. Happiness comes from being secure and content while surrounded by the mutual love and support of friends and family. If we are loved and supported for who we are, we do not need wealth or any other trappings to be happy.

So, Snoopy, I think you were right but it was not just because puppies are warm and cute. Perhaps you were more profound than you thought. Cat lovers, I can’t help you.

Monday Blues

Arrrgggggh! Where did the weekend go? Let's see. Had a work related dinner on Friday night. Had to wake up early on Saturday and attended a World Environment Day work related event until 4.30 pm. That was fun involving senior executives of a large multi national company chaperoning children from a home of abandoned or abused children as they went on a nature treasure hunt in the jungle. Still, it was tiring. Saturday evening was spent preparing for church as I was scheduled to lead part of the worship the next day.

Sunday started early again as I prepared for the worship service with our church's team of young musicians. Church service was from 9 to 11.30 am. Church is always a refreshing time of meeting with God but this week it was a bit more stressful since I had to prepare for the worship and song-lead. Went to my office to sort out some work. Went out for lunch with my niece and her husband. Went shopping for groceries. Slept until dinner and now I am blogging.

It's been a busy and tiring weekend which I had very little time for myself. And now, Monday is just minutes away and it will be a very busy week. Hmmmm. Got the Monday Blues....big time.

I wish I had more solitude time this weekend.

Wish I was here...........where everybody knows my name and the drop of amber gold hits the spot.


Or perhaps here .......... where I can feel the refreshingly cool water on a warm day. A balm for body and soul.

Unburied Nuts from 9th February 2007: Love is........

From time to time, I uncover an older post and give it another chance in the spotlight. As I am not very creative at the moment, I thought it was time to do so again. This was originally only my second poetry posting. First posted on the 9th of February 2007 with Valentine's Day just round the corner, I chose "Love" as the theme; but it was love viewed through the eyes of a scientist and the heart of a believer. My inspiration had been the stories of strength, joy and struggle that have been found on many of the blogs that I visit. Thank you.

Love is but just a word that signifies a state of being,
Not a physical reality but a feeling that is fleeting.
Just chemicals in our blood that send our senses reeling
Its hormones and pheromones to which we are reacting.

The purpose of the bond, is for the sake of reproduction.
It’s sex and not love that drives the species propagation.
Your heart may grow fond, but its just a chemical reaction.
Love is nothing more than a tool in the course of evolution.

A mother’s sacrificial love, which we elevate as pure,
Is but a selfish act and nothing, nothing more.
A mother’s driven to protect her offspring, sure.
But it’s to protect her genes, that she does it for.

For Science when applied with all brains and no heart
It cannot understand, cannot measure, quantify nor even start,
In a world of logic and sense, love has no part,
It needs to run free, chose its own master, follow its own path.

There is no reasoning for the choices Love makes,
For it might find beauty in what others see misshaped,
Looking beyond skin and physique, the soul it celebrates
It reaches far beyond just the need to succeed, to pro-create.

A mother is justly proud of children strong and smart,
Yet the weakest and the smallest also shares in equal part,
The love that she can give, the strength that she imparts,
To see them through shattered dreams and broken hearts.

A man and a woman with a lifetime to share,
Have hopes and dreams and a plan to get there,
Yet illness may shatter plans, and one may need care.
Love keeps the other willing to serve, cherish and bear.

The mysteries of Love continue to unfold
Why some lovingly raise another’s child as their own
Taking on problems, many would wish to forgo
It’s not about selfish genes, unlike what we’ve been told.

As we transverse across the tapestry of time
An amazing love will like occasional jewels shine.
The ultimate sacrifice, the fate of two lives entwined,
One giving that the other may live, a mirror of love divine

How then do we measure Love’s length, breadth and height
Or give account of its strength and might.
It is from God, to love with His love, to see with His sight,
A gift that allows man to rise up into the light.

Falling

A song consists basically of a melody and lyrics. Add to that the nuances of arrangement and use of different musical instruments to create the emotive atmosphere for the songs message. The best songs are probably when all the elements combine and the sum becomes more than just the addition of its parts.

However, some songs have such powerful melodies and words that often the simplest presentation is best and where more complex arrangements and use of instruments merely detract from the songs elemental beauty. It would be like having the freshest fish but cooking it and smothering it with a strong tomato sauce until the natural sweetness of the fish is lost and overwhelmed.

And so in this manner, I occasionally come across a song which I like and which I find that the lyrics are special enough to hold my attention on their own. Many of Leonard Cohen's songs fit this category and I have posted on them before. More recently, I came across a song by Gretchen Peters which fits the bill too.

I have to say that I know next to nothing about Gretchen Peters other than that she is a singer-songwriter from Nashville, Tennessee. However this lyrics of this song just speaks volumes to me. The song has three verses and each verse seems to tell a totally separate story linked only by the fact that each of them is about an aviator and each of them is about parting. It is called the "Aviator's Song"

you fell out of the sky when you were 21

your bomber took a bullet from a german gun

did you think about your wife

your brief and tender life

did you pray to anyone?

chorus
how does it feel when you’re falling

can you hear sweet angels calling

is it empty up in space

did you touch god’s holy face

did you tremble, did you cry

did you fall or did you fly

you fell out of your life when you were 43

you saw her and you thought she was your destiny

you wandered from the path

and we cursed your aftermath

but that’s ancient history

chorus

you make it so damn hard to love you

i don’t know why i even try

and all i ever wanted of you

to take me with you when you fly

you fell out of my life one last time today

i held your hand and watched you as you slipped away

you cast your pilot’s eye to the endless open sky

and i sent you on your way

chorus


(Gretchen Peters was selected as the Folkwax 2007 Artiste of the Year. Keep an eye out for her as her star continues to climb. In the meantime, her songs (including The Aviator's Song) is playing on the LGS Radio located on the sidebar).

Tired of Fighting

Why is there conflict in the world? I don't just mean wars but conflicts almost everywhere we turn in daily life. Conflict in the family, conflict between neighbours, conflict at school or confict at work. Most of us do not seek conflict but yet it is difficult to avoid. I want to enjoy my life. Conflict is a waste of time when life is so short. The little poem above expresses how I feel perfectly.

Squirrel has the Wisdom of Birds

Marje from DUTCHCORNER
gave me and two others a "Wise Bird Award" and said "These bloggers have a lot of very informative beautiful posts. They must be very wise."

Marje, thank you very much for the award. I appreciate it very much......though I imagine it is a rare thing for a squirrel to win a bird award! Haha! A little joke there.

And then, there is this little phrase, "They must be very wise." Oh, I hate to disappoint Marje. So here are a few sayings to prove that I am indeed wise.

"A fine is a tax for doing wrong while a tax is a fine for doing well."

"Brain cells may die but fat cells live forever."

"Relatives are like fish. If they stay too long, they begin to stink."

"Not all lawyers are bad. It's the 99% that give the rest a bad name."

"Remain silent and they may think you are a fool. Open your mouth and they will know for sure."

"the early bird may get the worm but it is the second mouse that successfully gets the cheese from the trap."

"42.7% of all statistics are made up on the spot."

"Light travels faster than sound. This is why people appear bright until you hear them speak."

"An optimist believes that this is the best possible world that we could live in. A pessimist fears that this may be true."

"A clear conscience is a sign of a bad memory."

And now, I perform my duty to award this to three others on the basis that a) their blogs are very informative and b) they "appear" to be wise. The Wise Bird Award goes to.........

a) Mago at 63 Mago ( this is the man if you want to learn about literature and history of Europe)

b) Eastcoastdweller at In Search of Isis (one of the most well read bloggers I have met and with a deep understanding of ancient writings ....I am in awe since I have no idea what he's talking about sometimes) and

c) Janice at Pursuance of Truth (cause true wisdom is the pursuance of truth in everything around us and her poems are indeed full of wisdom".

Thoughts on Growing Old

It's now 12.30 am on Monday. I'm sleepy and really am not conscious enough for upper brain functions and thoughts. Instead I offer you quips which were sent to me by my good friend, Helen the Greek Goddess. I particularly believe in the last one.

Win the Peace

Claudia has a wonderful post about winning the peace. It was a very honest post and I was compelled to respond. The truth is that the human race has generally sucked at being at peace and there has been hardly any period of time when there has not been war on this planet. So is the idea of winning the peace an illusive dream?

I think Canada’s history while not perfect, has a few gems to teach us about winning peace. There was Lester Pearson who won the Nobel Peace Prize for envisioning the use of soldiers to establish and keep the peace - the birth of the U.N. Peacekeepers. Canada also led the way in the campaign to ban landmines.

The one which always grabs my imagination involved Sitting Bull and the Sioux nation. After massacring Custer andthe US 7th Calvary, the Sioux fled to Canada and who do the Canadians
send to meet him?. Certainly not a regimentof well-armed soldiers. Instead, an unarmed detachment of five North West Mounted Police (fore-runner of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police) bravely rode into the midst of more than 1,000 Sioux and they told Sitting Bull to respect the land of the Blackfeet and Crow. Sitting Bull was so impressed by the sense of
justice that he agreed to peace.

At the root of being able to fight for peace must be the pursuit of justice. We will fail if our agenda is tainted by anything else such as political influence or economic gain. May we indeed find a way to fight for peace in our modern but divided world. Shalom.

Below is the detailed story of Sitting Bull and the NWMP (taken from "Sitting Bull and the Mounties" by Ian Anderson) :-

On May 7, 1877, some 11 months after Custer's bloody disaster, 34-year-old NWMP Major James M. Walsh, a sergeant and three troopers followed an Indian trail to the dun-colored hills and ravines of Pinto Horse Butte, some 280 miles north of the Little Bighorn. Around noonh, Walsh's scouts spotted mounted Indians sitting motionless on hilltops, watching them--a sign
that an Indian camp was nearby. As they rode on, they saw more and more Indians on the hills, until the small patrol was surrounded. None of the Indians, however, made any attempt to stop the scouts.

Moments later, Walsh and his men rounded a hill to find a large camp spread before them. Reining in, they sat in their saddles while a group of Indians rode toward them. Spotted Eagle, war chief of the Sans Arc Sioux, told them they were the first white men to dare approach Sitting Bull's camp so unconcernedly. Walsh asked to meet Sitting Bull. Shortly, the Hunkpapa chief, at the head of a retinue of lesser chiefs, approached.

Sitting Bull must have been just as curious about Walsh and his Mounties. Walsh, almost as tall as Sitting Bull, held himself straight as a lance. Wiry as a mountain lion, he had intense brown eyes set in a weathered face, a full mustache, whiskers below his bottom lip and wavy brown hair beneath a blue and gold cap.

Walsh and Sitting Bull shook hands. At first Sitting Bull treated the redcoats with cautious reserve, but he gradually warmed up to them. They all retired to the camp and sat down for a conference that lasted the remainder of the day. Walsh asked them why they had come to the White Mother's (Queen Victoria's) country. To find peace, they replied. The Sioux claimed they had suffered greatly at the hands of the blue-clad Long Knives, that they had been fighting on the defensive for years. They hoped the White Mother, or Grandmother(the term preferred by the Sioux), would give them sanctuary in her land. Spotted Eagle said they had been forced to cross the medicine line (the border--the Sioux also called it "the big road") to protecttheir women and children from the Long Knives.

John Peter Turner, historian for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (that name didn't come until 1920), wrote in Volume 1 of The North-West Mounted Police 1873­1893: "Sitting Bull said, in effect, 'Yesterday I was fleeing from white men, cursing them as I went. Today they erect their lodges by the side of mine and defy me. The White Forehead Chief (Walsh) walks to my lodge alone and unarmed. He gives me the hand of peace. Have I fallen? Am I at the end?'"

Walsh explained that the purpose of his visit was to find out their intentions and to tell the Sioux about the White Mother's laws, which everyone, white men and red men alike, must obey.

They must not make war against other tribes and must not steal horses or anything else. They must not kill or injure any other person. They must not use the White Mother's country as a refuge from which to strike back across the border at the American soldiers. They could not
remain in her country if they would not obey her laws, Walsh told them. Sitting Bull said he and his people would obey the laws, adding that he had "buried" his weapons before crossing into the White Mother's land.

Sitting Bull liked what Walsh told him about the White Mother's laws, especially the principle of justice for all, regardless of race. He showed Walsh medals King George III had given his grandfather for service to the British Crown during the War of 1812. His grandfather had fought alongside the red-coated soldiers of the Shaganosh (British) king. They were good men, Sitting Bull's grandfather had said, adding, "If you should ever wish to find peace, go north to the land of redcoats."

Sitting Bull asked for ammunition for his people to hunt buffalo. He said they had used up all their bullets fighting off the Long Knives. Walsh agreed to allow them enough bullets to hunt meat, but he warned that no bullets were to be used for warfare across the border. Walsh and his men spent the night in the Sioux camp.

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Sometimes.....but...

Sometimes you think you are doing the right thing but you still get into trouble. Do you know what I mean?

Click picture for larger, clearer view.

This cartoon strip is by Berke Breathed and I think he has excellent story telling skills and wonderful comedic timing.

Theme Songs II : From My Middle Ages

My last post covered my theme songs from the earlier part of my life. Here I will continue the count down until today. These are not necessarily my most favorite songs but are songs that I somehow identify as my rallying songs during these periods of my life. Well, here goes the final countdown........

Age: Hopeless Romantic
Years : 18-23 years old
Song: Tell Me On A Sunday (Marti Webb,1994)

This phase of my life has been studied extensively by historians and is known as the Hopeless Romantic Era with the emphasis on hopeless. *sigh* So this painful period demanded a song of deep pathos and I found it in this Andrew Lloyd Webber/Don Black song which was one of the songs written for a one-woman West End show called Song & Dance.

It reflects about the pain of separating. Even when it is a mutual decision, the sense of loss and pain remains and finally there is the realisation that there is no good way nor a good time to end relationships.

"Don't write a letter when you want to leave.
Don't call me at 3 a.m. from a friend's apartment.
I'd like to choose how I hear the news.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday please."

"Don't want to know who's to blame,
It won't help knowing.
Don't want to fight day and night
Bad enough you're going.
Don't leave in silence with no words at all.
Don't get drunk and slam the door,
That's no way to end this,
I know how I want you to say goodbye.
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze.
Tell me on a Sunday please."



Age: Working Stiff
Years : 23-28 years old
Song: Just One Person (Larry Grossman,1975)

When I joined the work force, I had a wonderful boss. My next boss however was a nightmare. The work was tough, physically and mentally demanding. The hours were long and I had to travel a lot. My social life was practically non-existant. There were times that I was on 48 hour shifts, sleeping when I could which was at the most 4 hours at a time. The work was tough but I did enjoy it. However, it was clear that I was at the bottom of the food chain and I had to cope with a lot of abuse from the establishment. During this time, as I strove to make my mark in the world, this old song from a Snoopy musical strangely became my rally song.

"If just one person believes in you,
Deep enough, and strong enough, believes in you...
Hard enough, and long enough,
It stands to reason, that someone else will think
"If he can do it, I can do it."

"And when all those people,
Believe in you,
Deep enough, and strong enough,
Believe in you...
Hard enough, and long enough

It stands to reason that you yourself will
Start to see what everybody sees in
You...

And maybe even you,
Can believe in you... too!"

This was a version performed by the Muppets on the occasion of the untimely death of their creator, Jim Henson. I think it adds an extra poignancy to the words. It is also suitable cause my other candidate theme song for this period would probably have been "It isn't Easy Being Green" which is sung by Kermit! Haha.


Age: Love Struck
Years : 28 years and forever.
Song: And So It Goes (Billy Joel,1990)

Eventually, love found me when I wasn't looking. And perhaps when I wasn't ready. I then had to make a decision. After some struggle, I decided to propose to my future wife by singing this song to her.

"And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break"



Age: Mid-Life
Years : 40+
Song: Anything But Ordinary (Avril Lavine, 2002)

I don't think I am going through a mid-life crisis. No sportscar or any of those symptoms. So, why have I chosen a song from a young girl (she was 16 when she wrote this)for this period of my life? Don't really know. Maybe she is way precocious or I am way slow or immature. Anyway, the words of this song speaks about wanting to live a meanigful and fulfilled life and not waste this time in the world. It talks about living to the extreme and not wasting it. Yes, I want to live to the extreme......but I will still not bungee jump! Forget that!

"To walk within the lines
Would make my life so boring
I want to know that I
Have been to the extreme
So knock me off my feet
Come on now give it to me
Anything to make me feel alive

Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please"



Well, that's it folks. My life in song. You were perhaps expecting some songs about squirrels?

Theme Songs Through My Ages

I have always loved music and often wished my life was a musical with full orchestral backing. It's therefore not surprising that I had my varios theme songs as I grew up. Here are some of them.

Age: Precocious Youth
Years : Under 10 years old
Song: The Sound of Silence (Simon & Garfunkel,1964)

Why was this my theme song at this time? I really don't know. Perhaps I was too young really to think of having a theme song then. However, this song definately had the strongest influence and impact on me. Perhaps I was melancholic by nature. Another song that made an impact on me as I was a little older was "Alone Again Naturally" by Gilbert O'Sullivan. Maybe I was plenty melancholic. I don't really remember.

"Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again....."

"And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence."

The excerpts above are the parts of the lyrics that resonated most with me. I was comfortable with silence and solitude and I noted that more people were alone than they would admit to themselves. They talk but are neither listened to nor do they listen. Hiding behind facades and masks, no one daring to be honest.




Age: Awkward Teenager
Years : From 11 - 17 years old
Song: Danny's Song (Anne Murray version,1972)

At this time in my life, I am beginning to notice the female gender and perhaps thoughts turn to love and the search for the end of loneliness in the finding of true love. This is a short song so I've included all the lyrics. This song is as country as I get. But clearly, the theme is clear. It is the expectation that love conquers all. Perhaps, one can detect my hippie sympathies here too.

"People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one
And we've just begun, I think I'm gonna have a son
He will be like you and me, as free as a dove
Conceived in love, the sun is gonna shine above

Chorus:
And even though we ain't got money
I'm so in love with ya honey
Everything bring a chain of love
And in the mornin' when I rise
Bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything's gonna be all right

Love a guy who holds the world in a paper cup
Drink it up, love him and he'll bring you luck
And if ya find he helps your mind, better take him home
Yeah 'n' dontcha live alone, try to earn what lovers own"




Age: Restless Young Man
Years : From 18-21 years old
Song: Total Eclipse of the Heart(Bonnie Tyler,1983)

As I grew out of my teens, I perhaps became more disillusioned. The world was not just black and white. The good and the just did not always win. Love did not conquer all. The world just seemed like a very confused place. I grew a little more angry inside. The theme song for this period was definately more packed with emotion, power and even anger but at its core it is a sad song.....of loss, betrayal hurt and a farewell to innocence. Incidentally, this was written by Jim Steinman. I still love most of his songs till today.

"Turnaround, Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of
something wild
Turnaround, Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying
like a child in your arms
Turnaround, Every now and then I get a little bit angry and I know I've
got to get out and cry
Turnaround, Every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see
the look in your eyes
Turnaround bright eyes, Every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround bright eyes, Every now and then I fall apart"

"I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight"

>


Age: The University Years
Years : From 21-22 years old
Song: All Night Long (Lionel Richie, 1983)

This was my theme song for one simple reason. I used to pull all-nighters trying to study for my exams. There was a time when my night and day routines were practically interchanged. I found that I studied better at night with less distractions. "All night long" was my song and my rally call.



I will carry on with the remaining themes and periods of my life in the next post.

A Memory Fading

You know, I said that would never forget him and yet I can no longer remember his name. I feel sad and angry at my failure. It seemed the very least that I could do and yet I have begun to let him slip away. The world has continued to turn, my life has gone on and he has fallen behind.

I'll just call him, John. I first met John when I first started work at the local University after completing my Masters degree. I was one of a group of research assistants that worked in the Biochemistry Department. We also doubled as student tutors and part of our job was to supervise and give advice to final year undergraduates as they try to carry out mini-research projects as part of their credits.

John was one of the smarter students and he often entered into lengthy academic discussions with us and eventually he begun to hang out with the research assistants socially as well. We thought nothing much about it at that time, but he was particularly close to a PhD student which we will just name Jane. John was quiet, thoughtful and sensitive. Jane was quite different in that she was an extrovert, a rebel against convention and the life of the party. Somehow they hit it off and were often seen together in the labs. She would be working on an experiment and he would be studying for his exams; both just seemed content to be in each other's company.

A love story? I didn't think so then and I still don't today. Jane had just gotten married before starting her PhD course. It was an arranged marraige. The husband, even though he had left school when he was 15 years old , had become a successful trader in a remote part of the country. The big fish in a small pond, as it were.

What really happened will probably never be revealed. However, from what I could gather later, Jane's husband became increasingly unhappy of her carrying on with her studies. He felt threatened, thinking that she was spending a lot of her time away from him with smarter men.

These began to lead to arguements and when upset, Jane turned to John and poured out her troubles to him. Jane's husband in turn became more and more suspicious that his wife was being unfaithful and that she despised his lack of academic learning.

One rainy night almost 18 years ago, Jane's husband drove all the way from their hometown to the University; a journey taking 8 hours. He called her and told her that he was coming to end her affairs. Jane was scared at the tone of his voice and called John for support. John, the young, gallant and foolish lad decided to confront Jane's husband and be her knight in shining armour. All three met outside her rented apartment. Jane's husband accused her of unfaithfulness and she accused him of being an unreasonable control freak. When things got heated, John tried to stand between them.

We were later told, the husband took out a hunting knife and went after John. Jane screamed for John to run and he did, getting onto his motocycle and fleeing the scene. However, Jane's husband got into his large 4-wheel drive and set off in pursuit.

It was along a lonely, dark and winding road near the University, in the midst of torrential rain and a thunderstorm, that he caught up with John and rammed the motorcycle. John went flying off the motorcycle and rolled on the road. Despite his injuries, driven by adrenaline, he was able to get up and leaving a trail of blood, hobbled to first one and then another of the few houses along the road. These were large houses with hedges and locked gates. He yelled for help as he ran from one house to another. In the storm, his voice would have been barely audible. Jane's husband followed slowly but steadily behind and at the gates of the fifth house, used his hunting knife to viciously extinguish John's young life.

We never did see Jane again. The day the news broke out, the University merely said she had taken an indefinate leave of absence and she never came back. Her husband was found guilty of murder and sentenced. As far as we can tell, Jane was never unfaithful. She was flirtatious by character and that contributed to her husband's fears but she never had an affair with anyone. John and Jane were just good friends, maybe even more like an older sister - younger brother relationship. Somehow, insecurity, jealousy, miscommunication and mis-guided gallantry led to this tragedy that shattered three lives and those of their loved ones.

For a long time, I use that road to go home from work and I always offered a prayer for John. I wonder at what kind of life he might have lived if it had not ended that night. This story comes to mind because the authorities are beginning to redevelop that road and the neighborhood. Perhaps, I will no longer be able to recognise the landmarks when they are done. I am sad that even more of his memory is being eroded by time and progress. I wonder how many others have already forgotten this life cut short.

"Almost" Love Hurts Most

I was seeking inspiration by visiting my blogging friends. I noticed that a few of them were posting or had recently posted about TV programs. This is a topic that I have actually never posted on before except incidentally when I posted about the M*A*S*H song and when I posted about scenes that make me cry. I was still moseying along when I came across Proxima posting about the works of Joss Whedon and especially about the TV series he created called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Well, I got really excited cause I share the opinion that Joss Whedon is a genius writer. One critic once said that the quickest way to create a TV flop was to put the words "Buffy" and "Vampire Slayer" together and yet Whedon made it into an international hit which ran for 7 seasons and with a huge cult following around the world. I could go on for a very long time on this topic but have avoided doing so because I feel I need to spend sometime in research to do this topic justice. For that reason, I am not making this a post about Whedon or Buffy either.

After reading Proxima's post, I got a little nostalgic for the series. One of the many themes of the series was the issue of unrequited love. Charles Schultz (creator of Peanuts) once said there is no comedy in being happy and made unrequited love one of the things that will plague many of his adorable characters. Hence, Charlie Brown's agonising relationship with the little red haired girl. While at the meantime, Charles is oblivious to Peppermint Patty's and Marcie's affections. And will Schroeder ever reward Lucy's devotion?

I add to Mr. Schultz's observation and note that there is no drama in being happy. Drama finds its voice in challenge and in pain. Once again, unrequited love or sometimes the tragedy of "almost" love can be powerful elements of a story.

In Buffy the Vampire Slayer, our heroine is a young teenage girl with supernatural powers to fight vampires. Yet in the end, one of the strongest friend and ally to her is a vampire, Spike. This journey from mortal enemies to reluctant allies to friends to almost lovers was developed masterfully over six seasons. Sometimes your enemies know you better than your friends but as they learn to know you might they also grow to love you? That was one wonderful thread of the story. Their's was both a case of unrequited love and later a case of "almost" love.

Below is a video tribute by a fan using clippings from the TV series. It begins with the last time Buffy and Spike interact during the season and series finale. Spike is about to find redemption for all his evil deeds by performing an act of self-sacrifice. In the love-hate, almost relationship between the pair, Spike had actually said and demonstrated his love and had repeatedly received a rebuff from Buffy. Even when they shared intimate moments of closeness and friendship, he had never heard her return his feelings.

I have been watching this clip a few times and I think this video combines the climax of one of the most tragic "almost" love relationships ever on TV together with a wonderful song to make a particularly evocative tribute to the world of Buffy as created by Joss Whedon. It stirs my heart and I would like to share it with you.

What the World Needs Now...(Addendum)

If you look at the previous post, you will see that I felt that the world needed "Peace", "Tranquility" and "Serenity". This was really partly in response to the tragedies of Virginia Tech, the car bomb in Baghdad that killed 120 people and the other stories of violence and injustice around the world in the last week.

Jay, however, commented and rightly pointed out that what the world needs now is "love, sweet love". She is right and she is also refering to an old Burt Bacharach & Hal David song;

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love,
No not just for some but for everyone.

Lord, we don't need another mountain,
There are mountains and hillsides enough to climb
There are oceans and rivers enough to cross,
Enough to last till the end of time.

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love,
No, not just for some but for everyone.

Lord, we don't need another meadow

There are cornfields and wheat fields enough to grow
There are sunbeams and moonbeams enough to shine
Oh listen, lord, if you want to know.

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love,
No, not just for some but for everyone.

No, not just for some, oh, but just for everyone.

What the World Needs Now is..........

LOVE, SWEET LOVE

Ladislav Kamarad (Gillespies Beach)