The Spring and Fall are the best seasons to walk along my life long favorite trails. This evening it was the Highline Canal Trail. I’ve walked this trail since, well, since I could walk. It’s evening walks like these, alone with my thoughts, that I feel I could never live anywhere but Colorado.

But the walks are changing. Deep gashes are being hacked out of the land on either side of the trail to build colossal, five story buildings some people seem to need. Stranger still, they call them “homes.” Thankfully, they haven’t rubbed out nature yet.

As I walk, I can close my eyes and listen to the cicada and crickets, smell the woody fragrance of the aging cottonwoods and maturing sage and yarrow. Fall is imminent. When the breeze is just right, and the failing sunlight just so, I can even imagine Janet is walking along with me. At this moment, it would take a powerful force to pull me away from here. I feel the roots fading, however, as places exist in both space and time. The relaxing satisfaction of watching a sunset has been displaced by a deep sadness I cannot define just now. It’s a silence that has me listening for something. My sense is there will be a time when I must go and search for a new home.

All the more reason to enjoy this sunset. And so I did…

[Edit History]

2006.08.30

Grammar changes and expanded a few ideas.

Passing this along…

I can vouch for the peace and tranquility of this space offered by Eana Rose. The quality of her massage is also top notch and an excellent way to set the stage for your visit to Kaua’i. Eana was one of the Hula dancers for Janet’s Celebration of Life on Kaua’i.

Sweet and friendly room In Kilauea

Do you have friends or family visiting? Anyone you know need a place while on Kauai for a retreat, workshop or school?

I am offering temporary shelter in my home, in a sweet room set up for retreat, healing and inspiration. Available for a day or two a week or two or by the month. As well as a supportive environment for your own agenda on Kauai, you have access to a sacred temple setting for meditation, yoga or making conscious music. Sacred Hawaii Bodywork and Ayurvedic Massages available, access to Hula lessons and sacred dance, great space for art and writing, silent Vipassana meditation on Monday evenings. Visit my web site for a description of “Pu’uwai Ka Lani Retreat”. Please feel free to share this with anyone you know who wants a safe, sweet space to stay while visiting Kauai. Or anyone needing a “Space In-Between” longer term living arrangements. Mahalo, eana

For information, rates and availability contact:

Eana Rose

(208) 721-1677
(808) 828-0138

eana@nalinilomi.com

eana.rose@hawaiiantel.net
www.nalinilomi.com

On August 24, 2006, the International Astronomical Union ratified a resolution that resulted in Pluto being reclassified as a dwarf planet. The decision was immediately contested by the alternative science community.

Sascha Boolkarinski, psychic, Ouija board expert and Edgar Cayce scholar complained “They should have given us warning about this change. What do we pay taxes for? How were we supposed to see this coming?”

Madam Bimpka, astrologer, angrily protested the change. “Don’t they understand the impact of removing a planet and how that will upset the astrological houses? Do they realize how many homeless people they’ve created? Thoughtless. That’s all. They’re just thoughtless bastards.” Ms. Bimpka’s empathy for the diminutive planet was also on her mind as she sobbed, “‘Dwarf’ Planet?!? ‘Dwarf’! Have they no heart for the ‘Little Planets’?”

Bart Burt, Ph.D, Ph.D, Ph.D, Ph.D, of the Tesla Institute of Labs remarked, “I don’t understand their problem. They invent most everything else. Tacking a bit of real science on their epistemology is a bit out of place. Sort of like what morticians do to make dead people look more alive. They might as well keep Pluto as a planet in their little world. While they’re at it, add a 10th planet and upgrade to a metric astrology system.”

Psychically transmitted remote messages to both JZ Knight and Shirley MacLaine requesting comments were not returned.

I remember back in the early 1970’s, as part of the opening ceremonies to the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo every January, promoters would drive a small herd of cattle down 17th Street in downtown Denver. For those who don’t know, 17th Street is the heart of the business district in Denver. At least, that’s where all the banks are. Eventually this was done away with as it was felt this projected the wrong image, at least according to those seeking to “elevate” Colorado to Blue State status. They didn’t want to be living in no gall dang (spit) cow town. No sir. Git along little dowgies. Git.

Well, they’re back. After my morning cups of joe at The Market, I walked amongst the herd of properly sanitized and stylized she bovine. Let’s start here…

Yes, ladies and gentleman. Doesn’t she look stellar? Graced with green leggings and city scraps, this little lady is dressed to carry you off to sleep and into your worst nightmares. But move over missie, for daylight, she’s a comin’.

I hate it when the omen for the kind of day I’m going to have is a pink streaked cow. Looks like is going to be one of those pepto-bismol days.

This one is wearing a much loved sweater I had as a kid. So that’s where it went. Hey, my parents told me it ran away!

In need of a few antibiotics, it seems. Maybe something in a convenient hose on dosage. (I didn’t touch this one.)

Nothing to see here. Moooove along now. (Just a little freaky.)

Well, we know which are the recessive and which are the dominant genes. Time to close the book on that particular experiment.

That’s just not right. There ought to be federal legislation against putting cows in grass skirts.

Ouch. Occasionally known as the Denver Donkeys (during bad seasons), the Denver Cows is about as docile as you can get. Even the Denver Pigs would be better. At least pigs know how to be mean on occasion.

There you have it. Denver. Cow Town Redux.

[Edit History]

2006.08.27

Edited for clarity.

2006.008.31

Added link to The Market.

If you are a blogger, do this: 2,996: A Tribute to the Victims of 9/11. You can sign up by clicking here.

I’ll be giving a great deal of thought for a post honoring Mary Melendez. She died in the World Trade Center.

Mary Melendez, Age 44

I’m not surprised by this:

Boeing is scrapping its in-flight high speed broadband service because of lack of interest from leading airlines.

The discontinuation of its Connexion service will cost the plane maker $320m (£169m) in one-off charges.

There are probably any number of reasons, vaguely encapsulated by Boeing’s reason of “Regrettably, the market for this service has not materialized as had been expected.” Specifically, I’d venture the following:

• It’s yet another thing the airline has to support, which adds to their cost.

• Focusing on a computer screen for the duration of a flight is tiring on the eyes, even for the few times I have attempted to do this. There are enough headache causing things about air travel. No need to add another.

• Airplanes are just not good places to focus on work. Anything from turbulence to interruptions by flight attendants passing peanuts and beverages to row mates getting up to go to the bathroom make it near impossible to keep a decent train of thought going if you want to write an article or work on software code.

• Security rules have made the prospect of pulling out a laptop during a flight increasingly inconvenient. I can foresee a day where laptops in the cabin will be forbidden.

• For a lot of people, there just isn’t enough space to open a laptop. If you are my size (6′ 5″) it is flat out impossible. The few times I’ve been able to open a laptop and do some work for an hour or more it has been because the seat next to me was open allowing me to use that seat’s drop down tray.

These, and I’m sure other things I’m not thinking of at the moment, push “Internet Access” down on the list of desired amenities during an airline flight. Criminy, these days I’m just delighted, as I’m sure are others, to keep the clothes on my body without security confiscating them.

I had first read about Gary Musselman on Amy Alkon’s blog in an article titled “It’s Like Jazz On Paper.” And indeed it is.

I know this not just by the images displayed by Amy, but from first hand experience of Gary’s art. I commissioned a phrase.

I’d like an original of the following phrase:

Hobo Kore Dojo

The phrase is Japanese and basically translates as follows…

“Hobo Kore” is a little difficult to translate. Roughly, it means “this place where you are at” or “where ever you are.”

“Dojo” is a place of learning, community and personal commitment. While it is often thought of as a physical place, such as a school or a monastery, the deeper meaning is that of a space without walls and alive.

So the entire phrase comes to mean “each moment in life is your school” or “each step you take in life has a lesson.” I first encountered this phrase when I began Aikido (a martial art) training. The school’s founder and chief instructor is a Japanese immigrant and had carved this phrase in Japanese calligraphy on a large piece of wood and hung it over the dojo entrance. The phrase has helped me keep a healthy perspective on life ever since.

As far as colors, I suppose I’d like blues and greens with a slight touch of red.

Take Care,

Gregory Engel

I was told Gary was inspired by the story behind the phrase and that an awesome piece was in the works. And so it is. Truly awesome.

Hobo Kore Dojo

Many thanks to Amy Alkon for shining the light and to Scotty Todd for brokering the deal on Gary’s behalf. I am a proud owner of a Gary Musselman original work of art. But the true original is Gary himself. The inspiration of his story absolutely radiates out of his art.

Ann Althouse, guest blogging on Instapundit, makes note of the ubiquitous practice of blogging on bloggers. How far down the blogger hole does one care to blog? Well, don’t go too far, because its bloggers all the way down.

I am soooooooo relieved the police have pounded another gang of rogue tree climbers into the ground. Whew! It was getting to the point I was a fearin’ to leave my house!

To the 12-year-old friends planning to build themselves a den, the cherry tree seemed an inviting source of material.

But the afternoon adventure turned into a frightening ordeal for Sam Cannon, Amy Higgins and Katy Smith after they climbed into the 20ft tree – then found themselves hauled into a police station and locked in cells for up to two hours.

Their shoes were removed and mugshots, DNA samples and mouth swabs were taken.

Crikey. I’d ask where’s the common sense to this but I already know the answer – THERE ISN’T ANY. There’s a thread about this stringing over at Slashdot.

And let’s not forget Glenn Reynolds’ question: “Will somebody please explain to cops that they can’t arrest people for photographing them?”