Paddy's Wanderings

Then & Now ~ Racing

In 1911, Ray Harroun won the first Indy 500. Yesterday, they drove his car around the track celebrating 100 yrs of the Big Race. Pretty cool if you ask me. Mr. Harroun had a nice write up in the Saginaw News this weekend. He lived here for many years and had an interesting life. He was one of the old school racers. A guy who designed and built cars, even starting his own car company. Hard to imagine anyone doing that today.

The race has always fascinated me. When I was a wee lad, we would watch the race, wherever we were that weekend. Why? Because my Dad is a race fanatic. In some ways, I am a bit of one too. Oh not like my Dad, or the hordes of Indy or NASCAR fans. Nope. I am more of a casual fan and like the local short tracks and dirt racing and none of the fancy schmancy stuff you see on TV nowadays. Call me old fashioned.

I have yet to see the Big Race in person, maybe some day. My folks went to one years ago and it must have been awesome to see in person. We did make a sheeple trip, back in the day as part of a vacation, to Indy and took the tour. I remember the day well, the museum was ultra cool, and although it was raining so hard you could barely see, we did take the bus tour around the track. It was pretty neato.

Yesterday, the techno-kid watched the race and I do believe he has the bug, like his grandpa. He loves NASCAR and really got into the 500, which is cool by me. Sure the race has changed, and racing is big business today, not like the old days when a fella could build a car and go race. But, it is what it is I guess. It is still racing, and that is the most important part.

Oh and you know who my fave driver is? Yeah.. Danica Patrick, and no, not because she is easy on the eyes, but because she has guts. She is fighting on all fronts just to get into the car, let alone go compete in the racing world, which is hard enough. So yeah, she is tough and has a few mountains to climb. I have no doubt she will one day chug the milk in the winners circle.

It is a long way from cheering for AJ Foyt and the old guys, but like I said, its all good. Racing is racing and cars still excite. The t-k has a huge collection and the racing bug. Thats pretty cool too.

 

 

Of Sheeple & Trek

Ah, the Great Sheeple Migration has begun. This weekend is the kick off to the summer migration of down staters to the North. Many a family loads up their conveyances with assorted gear, tacks on a trailer or two with a portable house and/or water conveyance, and heads up the Great Road. Alas, I will not be joining them this time around.

I comfort myself in the sure knowledge that I will not be ensnarled in traffic for endless hours, or rubbing elbows at the assorted Watering Holes and/or Bait Shops along the way. I am hankering to set up the tent and enjoy the Great Northland, but not yet, soon though, soon.

Usually this means watching old war movies on TCM or cable in general, but not this time. This weekend is relaxing time watching the Trek Marathon on Syfy. I am currently keeping an eye on Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. Of course, I saw it when it was in theatres, opening weekend in fact, and I have watched it a zillion times since, but still, its Trek.

It is Sunday, which means laundry day. Yesterday I broke the twenty day straight working record and had the day off, whoo hoo! I may make it through today too. Which means... Trek and laundry and basic hanging out and enjoying my time off.

So enough prattling on, I leave you this from ST:IV.

 

Then & Now ~ Toys

You know that guy! Come on, everyone who grew up in the 70's knows Evel Knivel. I had a toy just like this when I was a tot myself. Beleive me, my Knivel crashed into everything under the sun, more then once in most cases. He flew off the back yard tree, the dog house, and one time off the garage. I jumped everything with that toy. I may have jumped a shark once a la Fonzie. I know I had a toy shark from the GI Joe set and I am betting ol' Evil Knivel made that jump.

I will admit, the toy was indestructible, in spite of my best efforts to jump the world. What a fun toy, but alas, one that did not stand the test of time. I can name others from the Fashioned Challenged Seventies that did not make it either, pet rocks and mood rings come to mind.

But, I did have some toys that did survive the test of time, some that even the techno-kid plays with from time to time. Sure, much has changed, but the basic toys are the same. I am talking about stuff like the green army guys, hot wheel cars, lincoln logs, and of course Legos.

Now the little plastic army guys have had a make-over and are way cooler now, but are still the same really. The t-k plays with them and has fun, and I like playing with the gobs of plastic myself. Of course I always got stuck with the mine sweeper guys as a kid, and I do now too. I really want to play with the tanks, but t-k says he is the only one who knows how to drive them.

Hot Wheel cars are still the same really, just as much fun as always. The tracks are more elaborate but still pretty much the same. We may have a few hundred in the house, what with my old ones, the two bigger boyos collection, and the collection of the t-k. We could have an awesome car show if we would pause long enough to line 'em up and not race them after the cats.

I loved lincoln logs as a kid and the wee one seems to like 'em well enough. I think he likes them more for building barricades for army guys or ramps for cars more than actually building say a log cabin, or barn. But still, he will drag 'em out and we do get to build some cool stuff.

I had a basic Lego set as a kid and had a ton of fun building stuff. I am here to tell ya though, oh how forty years has changed Lego. Now you can build anything and there are tons of sets! I remember when the space stuff came out and I was all googly eyed and drooling. Now, geesh.. you can build all kinds of cool space ships, and pirate ships, and.. well you know, I could go on forever.

The techno-kid loves his legos and will sit and build for hours. I like that, it is good creative fun and so much better than sitting in front of a TV or monitor blowing up pixels and brain cells in video games. Not to say I am against that, far from it, but there is much more to explore and enjoy then just that type of games.

Sure, things have changed. There is a lot more for a kiddo to do now, more stuff pulling for attention. But some things, like fun, creative toys, still can entertain a modern kiddo. It depends on what a parent does, what they teach, and how they teach, a kiddo to play.

I miss the Evel Knivel toy, not so much the pet rock.

 

In the Garden ~ The Journal of Krish

from the Journal of Krish...

I practiced making ink and parchment from spring to spring and got to know the process well. I would spend the day working with Logar and Storm, building a house for Carnac. In the evening I would sit with Carnac and learn the craft. It took a long time for us to build that house, and many evenings learning how to write.

That is not to say I did not do other tasks. I would go to the grove at Wenona during ceremonies and just as often tell a tale or two to anyone who would listen. It was a busy time, and for the most part, kept all of our attention on helping Carnac start his new life with Larissa.

In many ways, it was the best of times. The war was over, and while we were not ready to join the growing village, we were ready to help a friend. It was at this time that Carnac began to pester me about writing a journal. I went along with his ramblings as a good friend will do.

So I started writing observations, thoughts, and random bits as a way to please Carnac. Then came the day of the arguement. I sit here, in the garden of Carnac, waiting for the arrival of the rest of the Chosen. I do not feel like music, the tea grows cool, and I feel an unease.

So I write. It helps sometimes. Today though, with the death of Carnac fresh in my thoughts and the feeling that this reunion is going to go bad, I remember that arguement like it was only yesterday.

It was Carnac's fault really, he had forgotton the Grove, or so I thought.. He insisted that I start to write the history of our people onto the parchment scolls. I scoffed at the idea, but he was presistent. I tried to explain that words could not convey a people. The life, the history, what makes our people who and what they are is as much a part of the people and the valley as anything he could imagine. How was I to write about a people that the long told stories could barely touch?

How was I to write into these words the passion, the life of a people that song and dance was only a shadow of the reality? To know the history, the life of a people, one would have to live that life. It is true we pass along the histories and stories and the traditions are taught at a young age and children grow into the life we all know.

How could anyone write about that and make sense to someone who had never known that life?

He smiled as I turned and walked away. I went down by the river to ease my anger. The soft flowing river had always down that for me, and that day was no different. When I went back to the house, nothing was said. For that matter, Carnac never mentioned that day again.

I sit here and I am angry again. I am angry because I see the wisdom in what he was trying to tell me and I feel foolish. He was right. Today more than ever I feel that all that I have learned I must pass on. I do not know if I have the voice to tell everything I have ever learned. I am sure I do not have enough ink and scroll to even begin the story of our people.

Time seems to be slipping through my fingers and I do not believe I can do all that needs to be done now.

Paddy's Poetry Corner ~ Two Dimensional Cutouts

Welcome to the corner. I have playing around with pics, thought this was an interesting pic and did a wee thing for this poem. I also crashed photoshop and can't fix the misspelling. Somehow, it almost seems apropos. It also happens to be a short story in search of a different name. Similar to the poem, but.. different. Anywho, it's my blog, and I thought I would mix the short story pic with the poem. The story is still in progress, has been for years. The poem was written about '93 or '94. The story started a couple years later. Yeah.. it takes awhile for most things..

But here we are, the stool is set, the spot light is burning, time to lay it down for ya..

Two Dimensional Cutouts

 

A tuneless band of facades

experiment in performance art;

searching for a gimmick

with an indifferent lust,

living in the dream

of rotting mediocrity.

 

Shattering the wanderlust

with psychopathic arrogance,

the four mirrored placards

ravage their territory

with ruthless ignorance;

exposing personal voids.

 

Searching for any answer

to the meaning of life,

they channel hopes and dreams

into the passion of the beat,

screaming their dying agony

to a crowd already numb.

 

As I Ramble

I posted a question last night on Facebook and it has has had me thinking ever since. I wondered if anyone less then 30 has read anything by William Faulkner. After posting that, and then thinking about my own reading list over the years, it makes me wonder exactly what the next generation is reading, and how it will influence them. I will say this, the novels I read growing up have greatly influenced my life, and of course, my writing.

I was required to read one novel by Faulkner, As I lay Dying. I then read other works by him, most notably, A Rose for Emily. Poweful stuff. I would highly recommend reading any of his works, if you have not already.

Around that time, I also read Tom Sawyer, and Huckleberyy Finn for the first time. I of course, love Mark Twain and have read anything I can get my hands on over the years. Sadly, I have heard that if kids even do get a chance to read any of these stories, they are heavly edited due to language.

Steinbeck. I started with The Red Pony and The Pearl and then on to Of Mice and Men and The Grapes of Wrath. Memorable days of reading such good stories. Some of my favorite.

Hemingway, Dickens, all kinds of literary greats inhabited the halls of my school. It opened my mind. I read on my own Hardy Boys and then went into crime fiction early on in elementary school/junior high. Then in junior high my love of space took over.

I devoured SF. I can clearly remember reading Have Space Suit - Will Travel by Heinlein at night after finishing my required reading for The Red Pony. I did that throughout my school years, in addition to reading short story mags and anything else I could get my hands on. Still do really. Although in recent years I have slowed a bit.

I guess the long way around to my point is.. rather long. This is a part of my influence, in a rambling sort of way. I question how people in there twenties have been influenced by literature, or if indeed, as some would say, they are not influenced by words, but rather by images, i.e. TV and internet, etc.

I do wonder..

 

 

Then & Now ~ Rabbit Ears

For you younger folks out there, that is a TV. No, really. That dial thingy there? Yeah, thats how you changed the channel. Those little knobs underneath there you used to adjust vertical and horizontal hold and the color.. if you had color. This is a fancy Magnaxox TV, very similar to the first TV better 1/2 and I had in our first house.

Through the generosity of her step mom, we got this big old 'portable' TV and put it in our bedroom. It took two people to carry it! Often, the color would not work and it would revert to black and white, and the rabbit ears did not get that good of reception. We had to resort to adding tin foil so our TV looked like a buck with horns in velvet.

Of course, this comes from the time when the average american knew the terms UHF and VHF and what those terms meant. (If you don't know, google is your friend.) Way back before cable, remotes and it was a fifty-fifty chance if you had a color TV. Dad did not have a remote, he had a child to turn the button.Then again, it was only three channels, maybe PBS if it would come in on that day, so it wasn't too hard.

But when it came to adjusting the antenna, aka rabbit ears, dad was king. Dad could do TV Antenna Acrobatics and if there had been an Olympic sport in that field, the American Dad would have swept the medals. Well, if the female soviet judge did not give him too bad a score. Of course, this was done while the kids and Mom would be cheering him on and giving often contradictory advice.

The antenna on the roof was like the Iron Man Triathalon compared to the marathon of the TV Rabbit Ears. Or maybe more like a relay race with the kids yelling yes or no to Mom as she hung her head out the window to yell up to the roof the latest report. Naturally, she would be trying to get the kids to behave, and constantly warn father not to fall. Mom was the ultimate middle manager.

This is something I remember from forty years ago, rather fondly actually. Enter the techno-kid today and we can see the difference. He was bouncing around and hit the delicate balance of the cable lead precariously balanced going into the ancient VCR in our bedroom. Well, it is my fault really, we were playing and he hit the cable and boom, the TV screen becomes snow filled. Static echoing out of the bedroom and scaring the cats. I mumbled something under my breath, probably very similar to what my father said all those years ago.

A pic of the mess, the closet door is the cable's nemesis.

The kiddo says, 'Its ok, I can fix it!' Egads! I head for the TV and he says, 'Look at the screen, see if it works.' He proceeds to wiggle cables and wires and the like and I am five again, saying, a little more, a little more, no the other way. In no time flat, he had it working again, he brushes his hands together and says, 'I do it all the time, it's easy.'

On a not so random side note. I was watching a black & white movie the other day and the t-k bounded in and said, 'Ohhh.. TV is broke again, I fix it.' I then spent fifteen minutes explaining black & white movies and, silly me, TV's that were black & white. He looked at me after my soliloquy, shrugged and said.. 'Oh, that's weird.'

Apparently, the rabbit ear gene bypassed me and morphed into the cable gene. Not only that, but I can never find the remote, and the kiddo will say please change the channel to Bob the Builder, or Thomas, or whatever. My role has not changed.

That old chestnut rings true.. 'The more things change, the more they stay the same...' I would bet cave man dad had junior cave boy adjusting his view of the wall paintings(how I don't know, but I can picture the scene).

And on that note.. I am off to tune the TV and catch a movie with t-k.

Happy Wanderings

 

 

In The Wink of a Young Girl's Eye

This picture has traveled many miles and many years. You might recognize the guy and gal in this summer of '88 pic. What you might not know, is that the water in the background is in fact, Lake Michigan, and that is Point Betsie Lighthouse.

The day was very hot, it was August and the sky was bright blue and the wind off the lake was not cool, it was very warm. I remember the day as if it was only yesterday. This was our first long trip together, our first vacation. This picture is pre-kiddos, way back in the Hazy Eighties.

That week was a lot of fun, and epic in the way Sheeple Migrations can be. I have a story maturing on ye olde hard drive detailing that adventure. I'll have to finish that collection of stories and share it with you all. It was a ton of fun, crazy and magical and a big adventure in so many ways.

That August Summer Day was a great day. One of many. I have time traveled back to that summer, pictures can be so powerful.

Happy Wanderings