Might As Well Be Here Now

Would you regret shooting a man you never met right in the eye then watching him die then wrapping him in a sheet and throwing him in the ocean without even a sense of mixed emotion calling it an operation done with surgical precision as if you were some kind of physician trained to heal instead of calling it an assassination by a covert Navy Seal Do you ever question if you were definitely the good guy and that your prey absolutely deserved to die? No judge, no jury, no clear understanding of exactly what he did but one side was certain that he was a demon even though others were screamin ' that he was a hero who had been redeemin ' the lives of many others killed by the "great Satan" while the governments on all sides kept placatin ' people with bullshit explanations of who was right and who deserved extermination Do you wonder if the whole story is a a matter of perspective? Cause we used to give him money to carry out our directive When he killed Soviets wit...

I don’t write poetry because I don’t know how to connect with anything that really matters right now. I don’t write poetry because my brain tightens up, even as I’m trying to get it loose and in that state of mind whatever I write sounds far too obtuse. I don’t write poetry because it requires a depth of feeling that can hurt and leave me staring blankly up at the ceiling. I don’t write poetry because I prefer to repress feelings that real poets struggle to express. I don’t write poetry because it requires me to admit that much of my self image is really full of shit I don’t write it, read it, see it, or feel it. I put all my effort in trying to conceal it. Still, sometimes when my feeling state safely submerges, a poem from some weird place spontaneously emerges. I do not willingly write poetry because it’s just too risky I wouldn’t be writing this one if it wasn’t for the whiskey.

My mother will be 87 years old on Ground Hog's Day. Being her age and living independently isn't easy, but she maintains a great attitude. At least, she does when talking with me. She sent the following email message to all of her friends on New Year's Eve. Her message is a partial answer to the question, "What's mental health?" I am glad I am on her email list. TO ALL, WISHES FOR A SAFE AND HAPPY NEW YEAR. BE THANKFUL FOR YOUR BLESSINGS - LOOK FOR ALL THE POSITIVES AND NEGLECT THE NEGATIVES.

A tribute to the late George E. Owen George used to say, "I may not be pretty, but, at least, I’m unique." About that he was absolutely right. He was not very pretty and he certainly was unique. I think it was his uniqueness that enabled George to leave us a legacy that I don’t think he was completely aware of, but a legacy that deserves to be mentioned today. First, George left us a model or an example of a man who refused to give up on his hopes and dreams. Of course, the rest of us thought George’s dreams were unrealistic. But George did not care what the rest of us thought because they were his hopes and his dreams. He steadfastly held on to them until the very end, leaving us an example of a determined guy who just refused to quit trying to make his dreams a reality. Ironically, the second legacy George left us was his heart. I say ‘ironic’ because as George’s bad heart (his physical heart) got weaker and weaker and finally stopped, his good heart (his emotional ...

John Freeman is a good friend. We have been friends since we were in Cub Scouts about 150 years ago. Long stretches of time have passed between contacts but, we still have remained good friends. Today John is listening to Obama's speech to the Middle East from an interesting perspective. He is in the Middle East recuperating from a complicated heart surgery in a hospital room in Istanbul, Turkey. He had the surgury last week on Memorial Day. The procedure repaired a funky heart valve and uncloged a "critically" clogged artery. John was not over confident about surviving the operation but, it now appears that he is recovering well in Istanbul. I know for a fact that John likes to travel but, that is not why he went to Turkey for heart surgery. He went there because the healthcare system in the United States was not up to the task. Sure, the same procedure was available here but, the price for an uninsured US citizen(approximately $124,000) could not compete with the ...

I think Barry Saunders is a first rate columnist. His column appears every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday in the Raleigh News and Observer. If you call the phone number listed at the bottom of his column (919-836-2811) you will hear his recorded voice say, “Hi. This is Saunders. Sorry I can’t get the phone right now. Chances are I’m being cursed out by someone else about the column. You can leave a message if you want and I will get back with you.” This is followed by another voice that says, “This voicemail box is not accepting messages.” If you call Barry’s cell phone number (810-7154) his recorded voice just says, “Leave a message.” If you email Barry at barry.saunders@newsobserver.com he might respond but, only if he needs something from you. At least, that describes my experience with Barry Saunders. When he needed information from me he was persistent and responsive. When I wanted some follow up information from him he was invisible. He initiated our first conversation on the d...

Last month I wrote a letter-to-the-editor of the Chapel Hill News. The letter expressed my opinion that Chapel Hill has become a much less interesting place over the last twenty years or so. You can read the letter ( A Radical but Interesting Idea) in the January archive of the blog. I saw a play this week at the Paul Green Theatre that both challenges and confirms the point of my letter. The play is called, "Because We’re Still Here (and Moving)." It is a collection of stories based on interviews with over 100 African Americans whose families have lived in Chapel Hill for 150 years or so. The play weaves together many fragments of oral history in a very moving and creative way. I learned a lot about the proud (but disappearing) history of the black community in Chapel Hill. The play also tells first person stories of slavery and racism that are a part of our community’s shared history. The play reminded me how easy it is to forget that Chapel Hill is part of the South. I wa...