Good Luck.

We like to believe that we can manage our own lives and make choices that bring order to random events.  For the most part this is true.  We learn that doing this is a bad idea, doing that is a better idea and so on.  But at some level there are circumstances simply beyond our control, events that happen outside our sphere of influence or problems that we inflict upon ourselves, flawed creatures that we are.

When we are in the throes of such episodes we ride the riptide of causality and place our fate in the hands of chaos.   The other day I did a pretty stupid thing and within the fabric of its telling you will sense a cautionary tale about Fate or Karma or Destiny interceding in one small way.

Leaving the office in Raleigh on the way back to Chapel Hill is something I have done hundreds of times.  On a day last week my hands were full of briefcase, water bottle, jacket, phone so I temporary put some things on the hood of the car, got out my keys, threw the briefcase, jacket and water bottle in the backseat and headed out.

Darn, almost out of gas so I head over to the trusty Exxon station before tackling the freeway.  Roads are busy in Raleigh and I am driving along a crowded street, when I hear a loud THUMP from the back of the car.  I have several thoughts at once; what was that sound?  Did someone hit me?  and WHERE IS MY PHONE??  I begin frantically searching my pockets and then I  distinctly remember putting the phone on the roof of the car.  OMG I left the phone on the roof of the car and drove off!  The sound I heard was the phone sliding down the rear window, bouncing off the trunk and onto the pavement where it was crushed into millions of tiny phone-like particles.  This is a very busy 4-lane highway, so no way can I circle back, race out into traffic and retrieve what is left of the phone — unless I want MY pieces scattered with the phone’s.  This was a brand spanking new iPhone X and very expensive.  It is to weep.

I am literally cursing myself in the car.  People next to me probably wonder what is wrong with that old dude?  Who is he talking too?  How could I be so stupid?  And I still need gas so I pull into the nearest station.  As I open the gas cap I spot,  impossibly, lodged in a space between the rear window and the trunk, MY PHONE.  It had somehow slide off the roof, down the window and gotten stuck in this unlikely crevice.  I quickly grab it to make sure it is not a mirage, not broken, still works.  I actually consider dancing a little jig next to the gas pump, but still have enough animal cunning to realize that such behavior is not within the acceptable guidelines of gasoline station etiquette.

A random bounce converted a total disaster into this story.  You might have heard the phrase, “Luck favors the bold”.  To that quote you may also add , “Luck sometimes favors the Bozo”.  

Signed,

“Bozo”

yin-yang

 

 

Constellations.

Alert to patternsastar2`
Our curious minds
Glance at starry nights
Translate galactic code;
Our personal language
Within the keening hum
Of life on Earth.

The things we know
Projected as thoughts
Upon the great sky canopy;
Of celestial stories
And legends revealed
Under a cloistered moon.

Who writes the book
Our upturned faces see?
Infinite spaces joined
With lines and dreams
Woven like a tapestry
Of shadows and kings.

The word: Vagabond

vagabond-1

Vagabond is one of those words that I just find cool, even without knowing what it means.  It could be a type of shoe, a car, a bicycle — heck it might be a rare form of marmoset living high in the Himalayas, known only to the most experienced Sherpa guides.  What is that strange little creature over there?  It’s a vagabond.

Back in the real world, a vagabond is an itinerant person, a wandering soul.  Earlier definitions, around 1400 A.D., also made this person a kind of criminal, although later this was lessened to simply “bum”.  The word vagabond comes to us from the Late Latin vagabundus meaning “wandering, strolling about”.  I digress in noting that Vaga Bundus would be a good name for a rock band, if they would stop wandering off the stage.

Latin vagari is also the root word for “vague”, although I am not certain about that.

Bada Bing.

 

Kites.

Since I spoke about juggling and boomerangs, I thought I would mention kites to complete the trifecta of toys that guided my early years on the planet.

The Spring days of March and April bring not just showers but wind.  I can remember building our kites from these assemblies of lightweight sticks and paper, and fighting with my brothers over who had the “best” one.  Then it was out into the sun and wind where we would run to get the dad-blamed things off the ground, and then using a series of tugs and pulls gradually feed the string out until the kite obtained incredible heights.  I remember once we got a kite to stay up all the way until the end of the string, making it little more than a red dot against the blue sky.  They let me hold it then, and I could feel the power in the wind and childish joy at being part of such a distant and miraculous thing.

34c9e68623d01ff338fe32464a361b2d--parachute-games-kite-flying

Years later, in Hawaii, a friend of mine was into sports kites, the kind that use two lines to control the kite and make it do tricks and loops.  These are great fun and and he let me handle the two control lines.  Easy to use but hard to master.  The pull against my arms and hands brought me back to those very early days out in the fields of my youth; a kind of wind-memory.

The kite is also a European bird of prey, sometimes called an “inferior hawk”, a name which makes any self-respecting kite flounce from the room in indignation.  Inferior indeed!  The word kite comes to us from the old English word cyta, which is likely an imitation of the sound a kite makes, still smarting over the “inferior” hawk meme.

Finally it is possible to kite someone, meaning knowingly write a bad check.  No connection to the wind or the birds as far as we know.