My Reason for Being

It’s the question
I have asked myself
A thousand times
And maybe more,
What is my purpose
In being here,
What am I
Supposed to do?
I have always assumed
There was a reason
For everything
I had to go through,
That the any mistakes
I say I made,
Had to be made,
For there was always
A lesson to learn,
Or some insight to be gained.
Did I have to take
Such a circuitous route
To get where I am,
Or was it simply
The only path for me,
Given what I didn’t know?
I stumbled or tripped
Any number of times,
But each time I got up again,
And continued on the road.
I was never sure
If the path I took
Was the only one for me.
I could have gone
A million different ways
Then the way I went,
And I will never really know
Where any of the other
Paths might have led,
Except that my life probably
Would have turned out
Completely different.
Was some destiny
Predetermined for me,
And have I already
Fulfilled that destiny,
Or is my true purpose
Yet to come?
I think to the day I die,
I will always speculate
On why I am here,
And whether or not
The path I took
Was really right for me.

I Was There When

It is incredible
The changes
I have witnessed
In the last 50 years.
I remember when
Color televisions
Were first introduced.
I was there
For the change over
From the old
Tube type radios
To transistors.
I saw tape recorders
Shrink from
Bulky reel to reel models
Down to handheld
Digital units.
I watched as
Records and record players
Disappeared.
I was there when
Cell phones
First became popular,
And I saw
Handheld calculators
And computers
Revolutionize the world.
I was there
Before fax machines,
And those infernal
Answering machines.
I saw the Internet
Pull the world
Closer together,
And I saw photography
Revolutionized
By the advent of
Digital cameras.
I was there
Long before Teflon
And microwave ovens,
And before men
Went to the moon.
I was there when
Fountain pens
Were still popular,
And stay pressed clothes
Were introduced.
I was there before
Skate boards
And roller skates
With Teflon wheels.
I was there when copy machines
Replaced the mimeograph.
I watched as VCRs
Came and went.
I was there when
Floppy disks
Actually flopped.
When I was in high school,
Computers used
Paper cards and tape,
And a single computer
Filled an entire room.
The PC had yet
Been invented.
I was there when
The computer monitors
Became flat screens,
And laptop computers
Were first introduced.
I was there when
John F. Kennedy
And Martin Luther King
Were shot.
I was there when
Paint was lead based
And so was gasoline.
I was there when
Asbestos was used
In almost everything,
And I was witness to
The Twilight Zone.
I was even there
For Elvis Presley
And the Beetles.
The world is changing
Faster and faster,
And who can say
What other changes
The next fifty years
Will bring.

Mental Playtime

One of the many lessons
Life has to teach us
Is the art of using
Our time wisely.
None of us can claim
We are 100% efficient,
Or that we use our time
Being fully productively,
In fact, we are far from it.
We may try
Not to waste time,
But all to often,
We catch ourselves drifting off,
Loosing focus,
Disconnecting from
What we are doing.
Or just spinning our wheels
Lost in never-never land.
Most of us spend
Much more time
Then we care to admit
Simply daydreaming,
Our minds entertaining
Themselves and us
With wild imaginings
Seldom based on reality.
We may flip our computers on
And start playing solitaire
Instead of being productive,
Or we may be driving
And momentarily lose track
Of where we are
And what we are doing.
It happens to all of us.
While it is important
To pay attention to
What we are doing,
We must learn to accept
The need for a certain amount of
Mental playtime
In our daily routine.
The difficulty we frequently face
Is keeping our mental recreation
Within bounds
So that we actually accomplish
Something during our day.
Somewhere in life,
Most of us come up
With a balance of work and play
That allows us to get by
Without being too hard on ourselves
For the time we waste.

The Passion of Youth

It was a class
Of 24 students
Ostensibly there
To learn English,
But I was there
To talk about life.
There was a mix
Of high school
Age students,
About half of the class
Were University students
Or had just graduated,
And the rest were
Adults of various ages.
What I was looking for
Were the passions
That motivated them in their lives,
The things they were
Enthusiastic about.
What truly amazed me
Was that each high school student
Had a very clear picture
Of what they wanted to do
With their lives.
One young girl wanted to be
A doctor,
And another boy was planning
To be a geneticist.
Even a fool could see
The power of their passion,
For their faces lit up
When they spoke of
The careers they intended to pursue.
I have no doubt
That each of those young students
Will eventually become
Leaders in their field,
But when I talked to the older ones,
Most were unemployed
And worrying about the future.
It seemed like all the passion
Of their youth
Had evaporated, and I wondered
Where it went.

The Shooting Gallery

It was a class full
Of rambunctious, hyperactive
10 and 11 year olds,
In a Turkish-American
English language school
And they wore me down
With rapid fire questions.
I was brought in to teach
Conversational English
As a native speaker,
And the class was primed
And ready for me
With a steady barrage
Of inquiries only kids that age
Could come up with.
Some of the children
Could hardly stay
In their seats,
They so were excited
To interrogate me.
It is amazing how much energy
Kids that age have,
And I could barely keep up,
Shooting back answers
As fast as I could,
And was almost ready
To call it a day
And go back to bed
By the time the class was over.

Spider

Spider is a card game
That comes on almost
Every computer sold,
And it may be
The most diabolically clever
Waste of time
Every invented,
For in every corner
Of the globe,
Men, women and children,
Scientists and engineers
Doctors and lawyers,
And even corporate executives
Are wiling away the hours
Repetitively playing
That foolish game,
Many addicted to
Its mindlessness
Just as I am.
I sometimes wonder
Who invented it,
And if they make
A small royalty
Off every copy sold.
Wouldn’t that be
A tidy fortune?
Just imagine
If someone could collect
All the hours spent,
And put that time
Towards something useful,
How much more
Could be accomplished.

Three Medical Students

There were three
Young students
About to enter
Medical school.
There was one
Whose father
And grandfather
Were both doctors,
And it was
A foregone conclusion
Almost from the day
He was born
That he would also
Become a doctor,
So he never really had
Much of a choice
In the matter.
There was another
Who was excited
By the money
That doctors make,
And she was clearly
After the money.
The third student
Had a passion
For internal medicine
And a fascination
With the chemistry
Of the human body.
Medical school
Will be tough
For all of them,
But I am willing to bet
That the one
With passion
For the practice
Will be the one
Who ends out
Becoming the best
Medical practitioner.

As a Teacher

Occasional in the course
Of our lives
We will have the opportunity
To be instrumental
In life of another person,
To be the pivotal point
At which a major decision
Is made by them
On which direction
They choose in life.
Sometimes we can be
Their inspiration,
Sometimes we can be
Their mentor,
Or sometimes we just
Happen to be
In the right place,
At the right time
With the right person,
And we read
The barometer of their passion,
And simply tell them
“Yes” You can do that.
We are in position
To see the future
Long before it unfolds,
And we merely tell them
What we see,
But in the telling,
The future is set.
This is an everyday possibility
In the life of a teacher,
And I think this is what
Every great teacher lives for.

Passion

I think happiness is
A measure of the passion
We have in our lives.
I have noticed that the
Happiest people I meet
Are always the ones
Who have something
They love to do,
And are doing it,
Or a least they are
Studying to do it,
And they are so close,
They can virtually taste it!
Sometimes we can
Find ourselves in a position
Where our job
Is clearly not our passion,
But we can still be happy
If we have something else
We love to do.
Maybe we love to travel,
And each chance we get,
We escape our job,
And go to some place new.
We can endure almost anything
If we know that we will
Get to pursue our passion
In a little while.
Maybe the love of our life is music,
And each night
We get together with
Other musicians
To play and practice,
None of which occurs as work.
It is our life’s blood,
Our reason for being.
Life responds to passion,
Magically becoming
Brighter and more colorful
Under its influence.
Perhaps genius
Is nothing more than
Unbridled passion,
And if so, then
The possibility of being a genius
Lies within each of us.
All we need to do is to discover
And pursue our passion.
We may not know where
That passion will take us,
But we will surely enjoy the ride
While it gets us there.

Spirited Sidewalk Beauty

Maybe you were just
An easy going girl,
The perfect stranger
Out for an afternoon stroll,
But there was something
About your style,
And the unmistakable
Way you were
That riveted my attention.
You won me over
In a moment’s glance,
Yet what could I have seen
That told me
So much about you,
And made me hunger
To know you better.
I think it might have been
The radiance of your smile,
And the twinkle in your eye
That I first noticed,
But it could easily have been
The proud and confident
Way you walked,
Oblivious to the many
Heads you turned,
Or the simple elegance
Of the clothes you wore,
Which emphasized the slender
Contours of your body.
There was a spirit about you,
A playful aliveness,
Missing in most others I see,
That captivate me completely,
And set my foolish mind to dreaming.

The Visa Stamp Circus

On return from
A visa outing
To neighboring Cyprus,
A ritual escape
I am forced to do
Every ninety days
If I want to stay
Here in Turkey,
I was confronted with
A ridiculous
Battle of wits
With a mindless
Immigration official.
She had been told
That visa stamps
Must be sold
In the currency
Of the country
From which the traveler
Is a native of,
And in my case,
That meant
The United States.
The only problem was
I did not have any
US Currency
On me at the time.
All I had was local
Turkish Lira which
She wouldn’t accept.
Now I know in Istanbul
The stamp must be
Paid for in Turkish Lira,
And there is a handy
Currency exchanger
Available should I not
Have the local currency,
But this was Adana!
I was told that I would have to
Get my Turkish money
Exchanged into US Dollars
For her to sell me
The Visa stamp I needed.
This created a challenge
Because there wasn’t any
Currency exchange
In the airport,
And besides,
I couldn’t get through
Immigration Control
Without the stamp
To find one.
What would have happened
Had I been a citizen
Of Canada or Mexico,
And the same issue
Came up?
It became a circus
As the customs people,
And the immigration police
Tried to reason with
The obstinate official
On my behalf,
And it took
And hour and a half
Of our combined efforts
To get her to budge.
There I was,
Extremely tired
From having been up
And traveling
For the last 36 hours,
Trying to reason with
An intransigent bureaucrat.
This ended out being
A classic example
Of why it is so difficult
To do business
Here in Turkey.
Even the simplest
Of matters can become
A roadblock
In the absence of
Common sense,
A commodity which is
Apparently in short supply
In certain areas
Of government.

Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

It seems I have
Grown accustomed to
The shy, demure type women
Who either by
Cultural programming,
Or by reticent nature,
Won’t even look
Directly into a my eyes
When we chance to meet
Out in public,
But give some of those
Same young women
An opportunity to meet
In a different setting
Where they feel free
To ask questions,
And to show their true colors,
I get pummeled with
Provocative questions like,
“Am I rich?”
And “Am I married?”
Or the roundabout version
“Do I have any children?”
Here I am a seasoned Grandfather,
And I still find myself flattered
By such unbridled interest.
It lets me know I am
Still alive and kicking.

The Communiy College System

Back in the United States
I got used to having
Community colleges available
Almost everywhere.
They are places where
Students can pursue
A more economical education,
And they can often get
A two-year Associates of Arts
Degree that will get them
Into the job market
Far quicker than going through
A full university program.
The colleges usually offer
Flexible programs and courses
That allow students to
Work around their work schedule,
But they do much more than that.
They allow students to pursue
Special interests they have
Without the necessity
Of getting a degree in that field.
If someone is interested in
Fields as diverse as
Photography, cooking, weaving,
Pottery, acting, writing, journalism
Or even archeology,
They can take classes
In their area of interest.
This is just simple recognition
That education is a life long process,
And that people
Who act on their passions
Tend to be a lot happier
Than those who don’t.
More and more people
In the United States are opting
For community colleges
Over universities simply because
They can’t afford the latter.
Here in Turkey, and in fact,
Throughout most of the world,
There are no community colleges,
Nothing to compete with
The University system.
There is also very little
Available as far as
Continuing education,
And almost no flexibility
For people to consider
A change of occupation.
The community colleges
Are great for those people
You have a profession,
But want to try something else.
Students can even study
Foreign languages there.
If someone wants
To look to the future
Here in Turkey,
I believe that someday
Community colleges
Will be introduced
And become popular
Simply because
People need alternatives.

The Comedian Principle

One thing I learned
A long time ago
Is that I can’t tease people
I don’t like,
And the more I like them,
The more fun I will have
Teasing them.
Anytime I try to tease
Someone whom I don’t
Like or respect,
It comes across as ugly
And disrespectful,
And there is no justification
For acting that way
Towards anybody.
If I don’t like somebody
For whatever reason,
I just stay away from them
Or ignore them altogether.
I imagine any good comedian
Would tell me
That I must
Love my audience
Or my performance
Is doomed from the start.
Whether I am on stage
Or simply joking with a friend,
The Comedian Principle applies.

My Mischievous Side

There is a goofy,
Smart-alecky side of me
That comes out best
When I am feeling
On top of the world.
I might play with
The words I speak
So that there is
A double meaning
To what I say.
If someone is struggling
To come up with
The exact word they want,
I am apt to suggest
One totally opposite
Of what they intend.
If somebody asks
If they can go
To the bathroom,
I will emphatically
Say NO! just to see
Their reaction.
Around the people
I am most comfortable with,
I tend to poke fun at
Anything and everything
With completely
Irreverent humor,
And more often then not
My friends will
Join me with similar comments
Of their own.
I tend to elicit that a lot
From the people around me,
And that is probably why
We call ourselves friends.

Where is Home?

Where is home?
That’s a good question.
I haven’t lived
In California
For quite a while,
And every time I return
It seems strange,
Like a place
I no longer belong.
Sure, the United States
Is my country,
And I am proud of it,
But I don’t choose
To live there any more.
I have gotten used to
Living and working
In foreign lands
To the point where
I am more comfortable there
Than I am
Back in the States.
I am in Turkey now,
So that is my home.
Before I was in Iraq,
So that used to be my home.
I have had a number
Of different places
I could call home
Over the years.
It is pretty much
Wherever I hang my hat
And decide to stay.
I move so much
That no place
Has an air of permanency.
I haven’t yet figured out
Where I ultimately want
To settle down,
But I assume some day
I will find a suitable place,
Or it will find me.
I don’t think it will be the place
That will have me settle down,
But more than likely
It will be someone special
Who makes me
Want to stay
In one place
Long enough to
Grow some roots.

Woman Unfolding

She is a stunning beauty
With long brown hair,
A quick and ready smile,
And those Spanish eyes
That dance inside her head.

She knows how to dress
In the most elegant style
That always captures attention
The moment she enters the room
Stirring a ripple wherever she goes.

Yet she is a timid soul
Not quite owning
The power she holds
To mesmerize a guy
With a look from her eyes.

She hasn’t yet
Mastered the art
Of speaking her mind
And baring her soul
Or saying what is so for her.

But there is a tigress emerging
Once buried within,
Coming from a strength
She never knew she had,
Ready to make its presence known.

The moment she declares
“I am!”
By the power of her words
She will become
The leader she was meant to be!

Typhoon

Not long after leaving
Fanning Island,
The winds started to roar
And the waves began
To build up to towering heights.
At one point I recall
Looking up at the mast
And seeing a wave
That looked to be twice its height
Come crashing over
And the next thing I knew
We were bobbing up
Like a giant cork
With the tilt meter
Registering an outrageous
Forty-five degree tilt.
That threw everybody around
And really wrecked havoc
In the kitchen.
Luckily no one
Wash washed overboard.
Those on deck
Had pretty much
Tied themselves down.
I was too excited
And too ignorant
To be scared,
But the truth was
We came very close to capsizing.
I had the indestructible
Naïve teenage faith
That if the boat sank
I would somehow survive
And end up washed onto
Some distant Polynesian shore
Where the local women
Would know how
To revive my spirits.
In three days of howling wind
And raging seas,
We raced nearly a thousand miles
At the incredible pace
Of 12 to 16 knots,
In a boat that couldn't
Have been designed
To sail more than eight.
The Araner may have been old
And in pretty sorry shape
But she sailed
Through that storm
With flying colors,
And did it under full sail.
I don't think any of us
Knew how to sheet in
Which would normally be done
In such rough weather.

Turtle Fever

I always thought
Of the huge
Galapagos Turtles
As docile,
Slow and cumbersome.

I remember as a kid
Riding them
At the San Diego zoo.
They were like big boulders
That occasionally moved.

They appeared to be
Quiet beasts
So the last thing I expected
Was to discover them
Bellowing like bull elephants.

I was at the zoo in Honolulu, Hawaii
When I heard an incredible commotion
Coming from the Galapagos pen
Where a couple of turtles
Were in the heat of passion.

If you think we humans
Have complicated love lives,
You should have seen
What they were going through.
Nature didn’t make it easy for them.

They don’t appear to be
Anatomically designed
For any kind of active sport
But the vast numbers of them around
Is ample evidence that looks can fool!

What was really hysterical
Was how all the people reacted.
The Japanese tourists
Flashed their Nikons
And a young couple just smiled knowingly!

Some parents of young kids
Covered their children’s eyes,
Or at least tried to
Amid comments like
Look Mommy, One turtle is trying to ride the other!”

Some people tried to turn away
With embarrassed expressions
Written all over their faces
Yet their attention
Was clearly riveted by what was going on.

People are funny about sex
Even if it is just
A couple turtles
Doing their thing
In the “privacy” of their park.

Pieces of the Past

Meeting Bill that evening
Had seemed at the time
Like the answer to her prayers,
The fulfillment of all her dreams.
She fell in love with his eyes
And the graceful way he moved
And was a goner
Before the last dance was through.
It was all so incredibly natural
Being swept up in his arms
And making mad passionate love
Later on that night.
It could have gone on forever
Just like he promised
And he probably meant it at the time,
But forever didn’t last too long.
It seemed so perfect,
So unimaginably exhilarating,
Yet in the end he left her
Moving on to someone else.
She was devastated for a while
Virtually giving up on love,
And particularly on men,
When along came Steve.
Now do you think she
Was now passionate and free,
Open and expressive,
And naturally trusting with Steve?
Not a chance!
Where she was aggressive before
Now she was timid,
Where she was boisterous
Now she was quiet!
Where she chased him
Now she made him chase her,
Where she once openly trusted,
Now she was cautious.
Whereas Bill and her
Used to go out to eat
Every single night,
She took cooking lessons
So they could eat at home.
In reality she was not
In a relationship to Steve
But with Bill–Steve
And that wasn’t all either
For there were others before.
There was Danny,
Her first true love,
The next door neighbor
Who suddenly moved away.
Then there was Clark,
Her high school sweetheart,
Who went away to college
And found another girl there.
Who she was in relationship with
In reality was
Danny–Clark-Bill-Steve
And she had already drawn the conclusion
That Steve will leave her too
Based on her experiences before.
The same holds true for Steve.
Who knows who he was in relation with,
And what conclusion
He had drawn
About the opposite sex!
Each one was dragging along
Pieces of their past
And allowing them
To color their present.

The Stamp Collection

My Aunt Dofeen was the culprit
Who got me involved
In stamp collecting
Back when I was about
Seven or eight years old.
It was an old collection
That she gave to me,
And I dutifully added to it
For quite a number of years.
I spent many happy hours
Working with that collection.
I would go through phases
Where I would concentrate for a while
On US commemoratives
Then switch over to stamps of Italy
Spain, Germany or the Vatican.
I especially liked the stamps of Laos
Thailand and the Soviet Union.
At one point I bought a collection
Of more than 30,000 different stamps
Which got added to the pile.
There was a period when I spent
Nearly every penny I had
Enlarging my collection.
As time went on
I got interested in other things,
But whenever I got a chance,
I would still dump a few more in.
As I traveled through various countries
I also added their stamps
To my collection,
Building a legacy that someday
Will be passed on
As it was passed on to me
So many years ago.
I don’t think any of my kids
Are all that interested
In that old stamp collection
But some day
One of their kids
Just might be!
I smile to think
What a treasure they will find.

The Song Inside My Head

There frequently is a tune
Rattling around
There inside my head
That I can’t seem
To get out of my brain.
It may only be a catchy
Advertising jingle,
Some old time ballad,
A song I heard somewhere,
Or some tune I concocted
But that darn thing
Will take hold
And jump onto
The endless do loop
Of my mind
Where it will be played
Over and over again.
I suppose I should be
More into music and song
If only to increase
The variety of the tunes
Stuck inside my head.

The Show Place

The house was antiseptically clean,
Cold and sterile
With everything in its place
Except for me.
There was plastic covering the chairs
And not a speck of dust anywhere
As if hermetically sealed
And meant for
Some other time than this.
It was decorated
With exquisite taste,
Expensive artwork and lighting,
Yet flavorless all the same.
There was something missing
And I didn’t feel comfortable there.
It was a house meant for show
But definitely not for living.

The Shake Down Cruise

We had accumulated
A cast of characters
That we called a crew
In preparation for
Sailing to the South Pacific.
My brother and I
Invited a couple island girls
To come along with us
And they were excited
About going.
In our minds
Those girls were
The only provisions we needed
And the fulfillment
Of all our fantasies,
But that was not to be.
The Diamonds,
Proud possessors
Of the Araner,
Decided that a preliminary
Shake down cruise
Was in order
To get a feel for the boat.
My brother went along
As a part of the
Skeleton crew
And I stayed back on shore
With my aunt
Getting her affairs in order.
They were only supposed
To take the boat out
For the day,
But when they didn’t show up
For two days,
We sounded general alarm
And called the Coast Guard
To search for them.
I don’t know how anybody
Could lose a boat that size
But they didn’t seem to be
Anywhere to be found.
I was mainly concerned
They had taken off and left us,
But the boat finally showed up
After three days.
By then the parents
Of the two girls
Had second thoughts
About the whole voyage
And wouldn’t let the girls go.
The parents just didn’t understand
How the boat’s disappearance
Added to the allure of the adventure.
Speaking for my brother and I,
We didn’t see how
Being lost at sea
With a couple girls like them
Would have been a problem.
At any rate,
The boat was ready
And in a day or two
We were on our way.

The Ocean Boil

We had been at sea
For about two weeks
And were heading south
Approaching the equator
When I spotted something
Far off on the horizon.
I climbed up to the crows nest
To have a better look
And it appeared like
The entire ocean
Was turning white
And for whatever reason
It was coming in our direction.
By this time
Everyone was up on watch
And the whole ocean
Was beginning to boil.
It was a school
Of yellowtail tuna
That stretched
As far as the eye could see
In every direction.
They were big ones too,
Maybe forty pounds apiece.
A bunch of them
Played at the bow of the boat
For quite a while
And we could reach down
From the bow sprint
And touch their backs.
It almost seemed like
They were trying to
Jump into the boat
And all we needed to do
Was to figure out how
To give them a boost.
My aunt was great cook
When it came to fish,
And those fish
Looked like they would be
Mighty good to eat.
The only problem was
That the Diamonds insisted that
Their seven year old son
Should be the fisherman.
We had a little bit of tackle
And some make-shift bait
But their son
Only managed to
Sacrifice what little
Gear we had
To the Gods of the sea.
For most of a day
We passed through
That massive school of fish
Trying in vain
To find a way to land
One of them.
I suppose it was a proverbial
Fisherman’s dream.
It looked like there were
Enough there
To feed the whole country
For a year or more.
Apparently they were pursuing
A mass of flying fish
Because a few of those
Did manage to land
On our deck.