Skip to main content

Guardian Angel Blues: Part Two

Hey Uri here again. So that was interesting. This blog got WAY more attention since I took over the writing duties from you know who – mister CTD (crash test dummy) himself – laymo Jaymo. What is it with that kid? Moaning and groaning all the time about wanting to be a writer, and how he is stressed out from work and has no time whatsoever to sit down and put his “enlightened” thoughts on paper. As a matter of fact he’d be much safer if he was at his desk and not running around trying to be Evel Knievel. If you added up all the time in plaster casts and getting stitched up he could’ve written a War & Peace size memoir. Sure would make my job a whole heck of a lot easier if he was sitting still…

So Mike, Gabe, Rafe, and I were Skype-ing each other last night around 3am when our humans were supposedly sleeping. That’s the only time we can rap about stuff. Skype is a friggin’ godsend (from where else?). We don’t show up on the screen cause of course we can’t be seen in this realm – but we see each other no worries. Anyway, we were kinda getting’ philosophical about shit, which is by the way not really our style. We’re more blue collar, meat and potatoes cats and this is sort of a problem when we get all sensitive and misty eyed. The heady, “spiritual”, cosmic, woo-woo crap is left up to the Big Guy (well Big Gal really, but that’s a WHOLE nother blog – shhhh, it’s kinda a secret). Truth be told we’re a bit worried about the humans. Nothing we could really pinpoint but just a hunch ya know?

We wuz talking bout roots. Not ours cause we got wings not roots, but the humans roots, both the physical connection to this planet, and the inner connection to the heart. Ahhhhhhhhh maaaaaan, I’m sorry it hurts to even write like this. I’m getting soft in my immortality. I swing a big bad ass sword cause it feels freakin’ cool and I love cuttin’ shit up – not cause I’m so do gooder. Anywho – I’ll press on. From where we sit (pretty sick view BTW) things on planet earth have gotten a wee bit tweaked. Back in the day it was wooden clubs, a cozy rabbit loin cloth and out running gnarly mastodons. Basic shit right? Now it’s gotten all techy and disconnected from the planet and more connected to each other than ever before. That’s sketchy when you get 6 billion humans all instantly connected to one another. Human beings in groups bigger than 4 are bizarre and this time they are living in is the most inter connected ever.

And in all the acquisitions of “things” the humans are losing heart – or at least their ability to check in and listen to what their heart is saying. Intellect is a beautiful thing in balance. But in the many millenniums I’ve been saving dumb asses like Jamo I’ve noticed that those humans who live connected to their inner world seem to be WAY happier than those ones chasing an illusion on the outside. The by product of which is we are having to step in front of a lot of bullets and damn those things are fast. Way easier when knuckleheads threw rocks at each other, or arrows which btw never ever flew straight. When some guy pegged his enemy with an arrow it was like he won the dang lottery…oh nevermind. I’m digressing.

Listen peeps. Just take a moment to look down at your feet. If you can find a patch of real ground. Take your shoes off (brilliant invention BTW) and wiggle your toes around. Feel this planet under your feet and say ahhhh. What do you humans call it? Oh yeah, Mother Earth. That’s an interesting way to treat poor ol’ momma. Now take your hand and place it over your heart (CENTER of your chest FYI) and feel the drum beat. Yup, that’s your heart pal. Connect to it. Make it your home cause when that baby stops beatin’ it’s curtains Mugsy.

Take a moment to realize you’re one fragile mo-fo living in a very fragile world. Best enjoy each little teenie tiny moment. That’s my advice. And I’ve seen some crazy shite in my day.

Gabe calls me the Prophet of Doom & Gloom. I’d like to think of myself as a loving messenger just delivering the mail.

Anybody home?

Later gator-

Uri

Comments

juro said…
I must have a guardian of some sort. Probably not an angle though. Maybe more in the lines of an elf- like character with a curious smirk and devilish laugh. I am lucky for a number of reasons. To be here still kicking it, but more importantly to have had the freedom to be curious, to explore, to wonder, to do. I’m still a seventies kid, one that had 2 working parents and a 10 mile playground, my town. The youngest of 4, I was off the radar, for the most part. I had a wonderful back yard, An acre of oaks and pines that was my Pump it Up. It was perfectly ok to construct pine needle forts with working tin can and wax fireplaces, go-cart and BMX trails of whoop-de-dos and 4’ jumps, homemade 3M ski ramps for glade runs. A tool shed existed, like most properties, except this one hosted some unique activities of hand-made fireworks production and pyro techniques education. An empty gas can is still very volatile. You know, if you steal starter bullets from the track coach and you aren’t careful grinding out the powder they will pop. Oh yeah, don’t use a safety pin to pick out black powder, nothing safe about it. I had the freedom to play as I wanted to. Thanks M&D, really. That time defined me. That was natural, unmonitored unmanaged time. My mom would come home from work to find me 50’ up in the hemlocks nailing a bench to 2 thin branches. Not very friendly to old growth but it’s still alive too. Something new would be ½ constructed on the front lawn everyday to my parents surprise and embaressment.Chronic non-finisher. No soccer goals on the front lawn, please move it. Later in the teens and in college, the shenanigans still persisted. A borrowed NEW 1989 Oldmobile Cutlass Calais was the perfect vehicle to wail through new England corn fields at 60MPH. Don’t worry about any fence lines or tilled up boulders, that fine USA frame and suspension will protect us. I really should chill out and protect my future. We are the guardians of our genome. Don’t do stupid stuff…..but stupid stuff seemed ok, not that nutty, it still does. Take it from someone who jumped from sapling to sapling like a chimpanzee. Smoked cooking cloves looking for a buzz and snuck Busch beer from dad. Well gotta run, need to call some mom’s and set up a god damn Play Date for tomorrow. Now which kid’s are ok for Jake to play with?
September 24, 2009 at 6:52 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

St. Valentines Day

I find it odd that we pick a day in February to celebrate the heart, the emotion of Love, the honoring of those we love. What apparently morphed from some racy pagan festivity into a more buttoned down Christian celebration has now become synonymous with the greeting card maker Hallmark. Hmmm. Regardless of this days origins it has been firmly established in the American psyche (not sure about other countries). Forgetting this day for your beloved, your kids, maybe even your pets, is tantamount to being un-loving. A slouch in the Love department. Nobody wants to be that. What about honoring yourself on this day? Congratulating yourself for making it this far on your journey? And along the way how much love was expressed? How open was your heart as you navigated relationships and all the challenges relationships can reveal? On my late afternoon walk with my two dogs back home these were the thoughts running round my head. And checking in with my heart it felt a bit sad....
5 comments
Read more

Cold Turkey Ain’t All Bad

Warning: If you’re young and healthy and never think about getting older and the world is your oyster and you are under 50 don’t read any further.     “Going cold turkey”.  The connotation is that we are giving something up.  Usually for good.  Things like heroin, or booze, or Oxy.  Things that really aren’t that good for you.   My cold turkey moment was bicycles.  Wait.  Aren’t bikes supposed to be good for you?  Yes, absolutely in theory.   However, in my case, not so much.  Of course, I loved the feeling of riding a bicycle – the rush of the wind, the freedom of motion, the ability to push my limits, and the boost in fitness.   All healthy benefits for sure. Except when crashes happen.  They will and they do. Typically, it’s some road rash or bloody knees and elbows with dirt applied. In my case it’s been all the usual get offs plus head trauma. It’s the “plus head trauma” that has me hanging up the bike for good.  I just can’t seem to keep from bashing my head when I do ...
2 comments
Read more

Actually, Age Isn’t Just a Number

It’s a mindset.  And one that until you reach certain milestones around age, you really don’t think too much about it.  Here are some obvious milestones: Puberty. Getting your driver’s permit at 16. Being able to vote in your first election at 18. Legally able to drink at 21. Then the next couple milestones might be around 30 or 40.  The realization sinks in that you’re not 25 anymore. A deep dive into middle age is on deck. ******* I have felt youthful my entire life.  And by good genetics or a Peter Pan outlook on life I never really felt my age. Turning 50 was no big deal.  Turning 60 also didn’t feel that momentous. I did have a total knee replacement that year and that was an indication that some things with my body were worn out.  But that was a game changing operation allowing me to continue my very active lifestyle pain free. But this past year being 65 has fucked with my head. I see the manifestations of aging showing up on my body. Hair loss. Muscle loss. Whi...
3 comments
Read more