A Time for Reflection

A Time for Reflection


I have been something of a wander and a wonderer pretty much all my life. I could never sit for long in one place, and wait for life to come to me. I concluded early on that I had to go out and make it happen, so that is largely what I did. I also knew I needed diversity to keep me focused and entertained, and as a consequence, I ended up living and working all over the globe, and having some fairly interesting adventures along the way.

Now that I am older, I get to sort and sift through those experiences trying to make sense of them all. I literally get to pull the strings of the tapestry of life out one by one, and examine them at my leisure, looking for any truths I might find.

Things seldom went the way I thought they would or should. I was often surprised at the difficulties I encountered. I suppose I thought life should have been easier than it turned out to be. Things had a way of working themselves out though, or maybe I was just lucky.

From a pseudo-religious point of view, I figured everything happens for a purpose. Life is no accident. Those difficulties I faced were necessary, though I often didn’t think so at the time. Each one of them contributed in some way or another to who I am today.

It seems a valuable exercise going back through and reflecting on the life I have lived. Things look much different in retrospect. I get to look at what happened, and rationalize why that had to happen. I have come to the conclusion that I can rationalize damn near anything.

Even with the difficulties, it has been a good life, all in all, one full of unexpected twists and turns, and I think I have learned something about life along the way. Maybe the real purpose of having lived the life I lived was to teach me a thing or two about life. I wasn’t always the best student.

Certainly my childhood years were not easy. I had a mother who hated herself and the life she lived, and apparently held me responsible since I was the oldest. It was I who got her into the mess she was in. If it hadn’t been for me, her life could have been so much better, or maybe just different. My father was married to someone else at the time, the niece of President Roosevelt I understand, and his and my mother’s relationship was something of an East Coast scandal. They eventually fled to California together, and took up residence near my father’s sister, who we called Dofeen, down in San Diego.

My mother tried at every opportunity to make my life a living hell, punishing me for some perceive fundamental transgression that I was only able to put together and understand years later. She was not the first woman to blame her first born child for her fate, nor would she be the last. All I can say is that her hatred manifested itself at every turn, and resulted in protracted physical and mental abuse that dominated the first fifteen years of my life.

What I endured defied all rational. There was no making sense of it. If I protested, it only got worse, so I learned the art of passive resistance. I developed a tendency to avoid dealing with intolerable situations head on. This became a problem for me later on because I would allow unacceptable conditions to fester, and become much worse than they would have otherwise been had I responded sooner. To this day, I am still working on when, where and how to stand up for myself. It was not the first defense mechanism I developed that became a liability later on.

I also developed a pretty vivid imaginary life that effectively isolated me from most of what was going on during that time, kind of an alter-reality. If I was being beaten or starved, I was off somewhere else, completely disassociated with what was happening to my body. While this was a valuable tool at the time, it took a lot of self-control to stay focused and in tune with what was going on in life later.

I would often find myself walking around in circles inside my room, doing little more than wearing a hole in the carpet, not really present to anything around me. I would look at the clock every now and then, and notice that the hands seemed to be skip-jumping around the clock. There were conspicuous gaps of time I simply couldn’t account for. I wasted a lot of time that way. It really became an issue for me while I was a student at the university. I could easily spend an hour and get only fifteen minutes worth of studying done. I had to learn to control my mental escapism in order to function effectively in the real world.

Escapism is one possible genesis of multiple or split personalities. I find that many of us are escape artists at heart. If we don’t like the reality we have, we invent another one. I suppose I could have gone that route, but I learned to control the urge once I left home. I discovered I couldn’t have the life I wanted if I wasn’t in it. I have witnessed countless others who sought an alternate reality provided or fortified by booze or drugs, but fortunately, that never appealed to me. I can understand, however, how some people would fall into that trap.

I left home when I was 15 and never went back again. I had to work through the sense that life should have been some other way than the way it was. That took a long time for me. It was 27 years before I talked to my mother again, and when I finally did, all her hate and bitterness had dissipated. She had found someone who genuinely loved her, and she had made peace with life. I suppose life is a pretty bitter pill to swallow when no one loves you, not even yourself. Today my mother is a long-term patient at an Alzheimer's Care facility, and has no recollection of who I am.

In reviewing my life, I realized that I had been trying to prove something to someone who wasn’t even watching all those years. I was driven to accomplish many things during that time, but nothing I accomplished seemed to matter all that much. Sure, I had gone on and gotten a masters degree in Civil Engineering, been a US Peace Corps volunteer, become a registered professional engineer, and engineered some fairly major projects around the world. In my mind at least, no project I did ever proved anything.

Living under the mistaken belief that I somehow had to prove myself to the world, and especially to my parents, gave me no sense of freedom. Every accomplishment seemed hollow. Later I concluded that none of us really have anything to prove, except to ourselves.

I also got married, and had two children and went on to become a widower during those twenty-seven years. My wife died of cancer after seventeen years of marriage. My mother never met my wife, and never saw my kids as they were growing up. My father had passed away many years before, so he missed out on that as well. Maybe it would have helped each of us find peace in our lives earlier if we had realized that things had a way of working out in spite of life not being like we thought it should have been.

All I knew was that it felt good being loved, and loving in return. Those kids sure had a way of wiggling their way into my heart, and making a nuisance of themselves all at the same time. I guess that is what kids are for. In one way or another, they challenge me every step of the way. I am sure I made my share of mistakes raising them, and each of them in some way thinks I didn’t do it entirely right, but I did the best I could, and in general it worked out either because of me or in spite of me.

I think learning to accept your parents exactly the way they are, and exactly the way they aren’t is essential to making peace with life, and learning to love the life you live. I have met far too many people reacting to their parents long after they are technically out of the picture. I know because I was one of them, and I see plenty of others with similar crosses to bear about the events of their childhood.

It really didn’t matter what happened. The choice I had was what to make of what happened. It was only later that I realized I actually had a choice in the matter. Now that I look back and review some of those memories, I let my relationship to those long ago events evolve. They had a hold on me just as much as I had a hold on them. What is important is that I survived, and through those experiences, gained strengths and character I might not otherwise have developed. It gave me some insight into human character and psychology.

It is not infrequent that I meet people who have been traumatized by things that happened to them, especially in the case of rape or childhood molestation. It seems a common thing these days. I have observed that they can go on being a victim of that experience virtually forever until they find a healthier way of viewing what happened. A person can go through years and years of psychological counseling, and still continue being a victim of that experience. They can become the “walking wounded.” It can haunt them until the day they die and it can color every aspect of their lives. We can’t look back and change what happened. We can only change our relationship to what happened, and what we have that mean about ourselves. This is the power we have over our circumstances.

I have observed that such traumatization is especially common in the realm of relationships. People get hurt when a relationship fails, and their natural reaction is to protect themselves from that pain in any future relationships they enter. Perhaps an element of vulnerability is necessary for us to truly be related to one another. I just know that for me it never worked to try to protect myself from possible hurt while simultaneously being open to relationship. I never figured out how to manage that.

One thing I know about myself is that relationships are critical to my sense of wellbeing and aliveness. If I don’t care much for anyone around me, I don’t care much for the life I have either. By myself, I don’t need much in life, but when I have other people I care for, I find myself wanting and demanding much more out of life. In spite of the hassle it sometimes is, I like being married and having kids.

Face it, I’m a sucker for relationship and in my humble opinion, I have spent far too much of my life lone. I like having someone to tease and please. I don’t always enjoy the process of getting related, but I sure enjoy being related. When my first wife died, I couldn’t believe how hard it was for me to find another relationship to take its place. It took a long, long time for the wound of losing her to heel. A widower may want another relationship soon after losing a spouse, but he or she is not apt to be really ready for one for quite a while.

Just like the death of a partner, the dissolution of a relationship can take a lot of healing before we are really ready for another relationship.

My second wife was also from the Philippines as was my first, but there the similarity seems to stop. We struggled from the first day we met being related, and somehow we never really got it to work. Neither of us got what we wanted, and I think we were both glad when it finally ended. It would be easy to find fault with each other, and claim that was the reason for the demise of the relationship, but that serves no useful purpose. We just weren’t right for each other, plain and simple.

I spent a lot of time contemplating what makes a good relationship good, and a bad one bad. Obviously it takes two to tango, but if the two don’t tango in sync, then it never works. Trust and respect are critical, for without those, there is no chance for the relationship standing the test of time. For me relationship always involved an element of vulnerability and compromise. We had to genuinely care for each other, and take the other into consideration in my decisions. Sometimes I was more prone to think only of myself.

For a while I even did some relationship coaching. It was a lot easier to see other people’s relationship shortcomings than it was to see my own. Coaching relationships was easy. Being in relationship was far, far more difficult. It was crystal clear when it involved someone else’s relationship, but the waters got muddy when it is my relationship on the line.

I have always been a cheerleader for relationship. I enjoy seeing relationships that work and take pride if I can help a relationship get going or stay going. Seeing couples fall in love with each other reminds me what life is all about. I remember what it was like for me when I was head over heels for someone, and I secretly envy the vitality of all new lovers.

I fondly remember how one of the proudest accomplishments of my first wife during her life was in the role of match maker. She connected two people who might never have broken the ice with each other had it not been for her, and they hit it off big time and eventually got married. I had the same experience with a couple friends of mine, and they are still happily married to this day.

Sometimes I think it is easier to match someone else than it is to find a suitable match for myself. The biggest challenge is to what extent I am willing to get involved. I meet so many people who would probably be good for each other, matching them should be easy. The only question is whether or not I am willing to risk their possible animosity should it not work out. Too many times in my life I have played safe.

What if I lived in a world where people assumed responsibility for the quality of each other’s life? Would I get more involved in putting relationships together? Would I be more active in helping couples work through their difficulties, and find happiness together? Maybe.

As I get older, I notice more and more how many opportunities I am given to make a difference in the world. It all depends on how involved I am willing to get in other people’s lives.

No Wonder!

Many countries
Have developed
Unique varieties
Of bread
That complement
Almost every
Meal served locally,
Whether at home
Or in a restaurant.
This was certainly
True for both
Turkey and Iraq
Where I spent
The last few years.
I developed
An appetite for
Many of the
Local breads,
Especially when
The loaves
Were fresh out of
The oven.
I am also quite fond
Of Nan bread
From India too,
Especially when
Accented with garlic.
When I got
Back home
In America,
I was appalled
At the stuff
We pass off as bread.
It is almost all air
And absolutely no taste.
That reminds me
Of an astute comment
Reportedly by
One of the
Russian cosmonauts
Who was in
Our country
As a part of
The international
Space program.
He said that
The United States
Has got to have
The worst bread
In the Cosmos!
Truer words
Have never been spoken.

Bus Talk

I am on a cross country
Bus trip
Soaking up the scenery,
And eavesdropping on
On some of the conversations
People are having.
Quite a few of
My fellow passengers
Are unemployed
Construction workers
Who are being retrained
By the government
As long haul truck drivers.
One of the guys
Was telling how his class
Started out with
Over 100 participants,
But was narrowed down
To less than thirty-five
After drug testing.
Speaking of drugs,
I witnessed two drug busts
During the course
Of our passage through Texas.
Some idiot had a stash of drugs
In his backpack,
And the sniffer dogs
Zeroed in on that immediately
At the immigration station,
So the police arrested him
And carted him off to jail.
What started off as
An excruciatingly long trip
Became a much, much
Longer trip than he had
Ever expected.
Another guy was caught
Trying to load
A backpack full of drugs
Onto the neighboring bus
At the Dallas bus station.
I guess the prevalence
Of drugs are a
Sign of the times.
These are certainly
Desperate economic times
For many people,
And several of the riders
Had been out of work
For over a year,
So they were keen on
Making extra money
Anyway they could.
What I found interesting
Were the comments
Of several of passengers
Regarding the drug busts.
There was a lot of discussion
On how the two guys
Should have
Transported the drugs.
Quite a few
Of the them seemed
All too familiar
With the purchasing
And the selling of narcotics.
There were also a few passengers
Who insisted on
Telling their life stories,
But most people
Tried to sleep their way
Across the country.

Counting Railroad Cars

Along numerous cross country
Highways and byways
Here in the United States,
Railroad tracks parallel
The road way.
I remember as a child
Occupying myself
On cross country trips
Counting the number
Of railroad cars
On each train we passed.
Here I am
Over fifty years later
And I still feel
The compulsion to count
The number of railway cars
Whenever I pass a train.
I believe my record
Is a train with over
Two hundred fifty cars
And six locomotives.
Counting can be difficult
When the train is headed
In the opposite direction.
I must have counted the cars
On over a hundred
Different trains
Over the years.
Good old Union Pacific
And Southern Pacific Railroads
Have conspire to entertain me
Over many thousands of miles
Of otherwise
Monotonous roadways.

Stressed Out Working Mother

The combination
Of being a new mother
And working for a living
Can stress any woman out.
If the woman doesn’t find
An effective release
For that stress buildup,
It will surface
Sooner or later
As an explosive outburst,
Typically instigated by
A minor problem
That is amplified into
A major issue.
No matter how rational
She may ordinarily be,
At the point of explosion,
Reason and sanity
Tend to take
A leave of absence.
In her outburst,
She is apt to do
Or say almost anything,
And it takes
A very understanding
And tolerant husband
Not to respond in kind,
For doing so
Only adds fuel
To her fire.

A Wordless Goodbye

I see you standing
With that confused,
Forlorn look
Clouding your eyes,
Not knowing what
To say or do.
Neither of us
Have ever been
Very good at
Saying goodbye.
Each of us must
Read the other’s eyes,
And understand
That love is present
Even when no words
Are spoken.
We each wait for the other
To make a move,
To say something,
To do something,
To give us an excuse
To hug the other,
But neither of us
Can break the hold
That silence has
On our souls,
And so once again
We miss an opportunity
To bridge the chasm
That lies between us.

Plan of Action for Iraq

The United States
Has expended
Billions of dollars
In the effort
To reconstruct
And stabilize Iraq.
The projects
Ranged from
Military bases
For the Iraqi army
And police stations
To hospitals, clinics
Schools and sewage
Treatment systems.
Now that the US
Is terminating its
Military mission,
Another phase
Of the reconstructive effort
Should be considered.
With Iraqi cooperation,
An organization
Of Iraqi engineers
Similar to the
US Army Corps of Engineers
That is dedicated to
The future of Iraq
Needs to be established.
Such an organization
Is essential to administer
Engineering design
And construction projects
Throughout the nation.
It should be
An organization strong enough
To set national
Construction standards,
And versatile enough
To handle almost any type
Engineering challenge
Facing the nation,
From design and construction
Of roads and highways,
To the revitalization
Of the railway system,
The upgrading
Of the electrical generation
And distribution systems
As well as national
Water distribution
And treatment systems.
In as much as possible,
The organization
Should foster
The growth of
Local construction
And construction
Support services,
And should be responsible
For establishing
And implementing
Material standards
For the Iraqi
Construction industry.

Third World Construction

Some of many things
The Third World
Typically lacks
When it comes to
Building and construction
Are rigid design
And installation standards
And effective
Quality control inspections
To ensure that
The standards
Are followed.
Architects and contractors
Cut corners
Whenever and wherever
They can to save money.
Sometimes out of
Sheer incompetence,
But often due to
Flagrant corruption,
Serious and potentially
Dangerous flaws
Get constructed into
Structures being built
That could easily
Have been caught
If inspectors were
Doing their jobs.
As a result, structural failures
And electrical fires
Are fairly common,
And construction
In general
Is often far below
Internationally recognized
Standards.
A prime example of
The hazards involved
Is the death toll
And the damage
That occurred
As a result of
The earthquake that struck
Port O Prince, Haiti.
Hundreds of thousands
Died as a result
Structures collapsing.
The only structure
Left relatively undamaged
Was the US Embassy
Which had been constructed
To US seismic standards.
Interestingly enough,
A much more powerful
Earthquake struck Chile
Shortly after the
Earthquake in Haiti,
But the latter resulted
In very little death
Or construction
Because seismic standards
Had been implemented.

The Project Manager from Hell

She is a nightmare
To work for,
As anyone who has had
The misfortune
Of being assigned to
One of her
Design projects
Can testify.
She treats subordinates
As if they are
Imbeciles instead of
As trained professionals,
And finds fault with
Almost every task done.
Whenever things go wrong,
Or redesign is necessary,
It is always the fault of
The idiots who work for her.
The truth is that
Most of the issues
Are the result of
Her own incompetence
And mismanagement.
She demands
Sacrificial overtime hours
Knowing full well
That everyone is salaried,
Thus are not compensated
For any overtime spent.
To ensure that everyone
Is maxed out on overtime,
She schedules
Frequent frivolous
Day long meetings
Forcing people to work overtime
To get the work done.
The company
Loves her though,
Even though her projects
Are difficult to staff,
For the company happily
Bills the client extra
For all the overtime spent,
Making her projects
Extremely profitable.

Maternal Oneupmanship

New mothers
For the first time,
Eying every other
Baby they see,
And comparing
Them to theirs,
Each thinking
Their baby is
Somehow cuter,
Smarter, better
Than the other.
Even the outfits
The baby wears
And the stroller
They are riding in
Are grounds for
Maternal oneupmanship.
They beam
With obvious pride
While gloating
Over their baby's
Apparent superiority.

Do-It-Yourself Styles

I am one of those guys
Who dives in
When I buy something
Requiring assembly,
And figure out from
The size and shape
Of those pieces,
How they should
Fit together.
I may cheat a little,
Once in a while,
And glance
At the instructions,
Or at least
At the pictures
To see if I am
On the right track,
But I usually trust
My builders instinct.
Some other people
I have observed,
Will study
The instructions religiously,
Not only looking
At the pictures and drawings,
But also reading
The document in its entirety
Before they even try
Assembling anything.
I will often have
The item put together
Before they are
Ready to begin.

An Outcast's Perspective

He works the streets
Of the city,
Scrounging out a living
Begging for change
And dumpster diving
To collect
Bottles and cans
Which can be sold
To the recyclers.
His clothes are
Torn and tattered,
And he smells like
He hadn't taken
Taken a bath
Or a shower
For several months.
He has been living
On the streets
Without a shelter
Over his head
For eight to ten years,
Except for
Occasional brief stints
In the city jail
On charges of trespassing
Or disorderly conduct.
He survives on
Discarded food
Fished out of
Garbage cans
Supplemented by
Occasional meals
At one of the local
Soup kitchens.
Though his hardships
Are obvious,
He ironically
Views himself
As wining at
The game of life.
He takes pride
In the fact that
He can survive
Without working
A traditional job
Like normal people do.
He has a sense of freedom,
Of not being
Encumbered by possessions.
The only possession
He has besides the clothes
On his back
Is a shopping cart
From a local supermarket.
He thinks of himself
As self-sufficient.
What little he needs
In life
Can all be found
In a dumpster.
He sees himself as a rebel,
An outcast
Thumbing his nose
At society,
And in a perverse way
He is proud of
The life he lives.

The Making of a Bully

He is just
Thirteen months old,
But he already had
His parents wrapped
Around his little finger.
He had figured out
Exactly how to get
What he wanted,
And he would badger
And bully them
Until he got it.
He lived entirely
In a ME centered world,
And his parents
Were rightfully concerned
As to how he would act
Once he started
Going to school.
What would he do
When there were
Other personalities
Just as demanding as his?
How would he react
When he discovered
He no longer
Ruled the roost?
My thought is
That they need to
Get him accustomed
To being around
Children his own age
Before that time.
If his behavior
Is left unchecked,
He could easily
Turn into a tyrant.
Or a school yard bully.

Corporate Bastard

He is a good old boy,
Married to corporate life
With three bitter divorces
To show for it,
And a fourth on the way.
Work was his refuge
From the failures of his life,
And also his identity.
He had risen through the ranks,
Almost to the top,
And he felt and acted like
He owned the place.
He demanded nothing less
Than total dedication
From all who worked under him
And expected them
To willingly make
The same sacrifices
He had made in his life.
It was obvious that he felt
Woman were not cut out
For corporate life.
He justified his open hostility
To them by noting
How many of them
He had observed
Forsake their careers
For family life .
He saw woman as
Flaky and unreliable
And treated then accordingly,
And as far as he
Is concerned,
They have been
The ruin of many good men,
Men just like himself
Who knew where
To place their priorities.

About Face

She had always done
All the things
She was told
Would make
Her successful,
Wealthy and wise.
She earned her way
Into one of the
Top universities
In the country
In her chosen field,
And worked
Her tail off
To graduate
At the top
Of her class.
On graduation,
She got a
Lucrative job with
A major corporation
And quickly worked
Her way up
The corporate ladder
To nearly a
Six figure income.
She had put in
Countless hours
Of unpaid overtime,
And sacrificed
Practically all
Of her social life
In the head-long rush
To get ahead.
She was just over
Thirty years old,
And still single,
But had topped out
And was getting
Frustrated with her life
And her career,
For she was
As far from
Her dreams
Of how life
Would someday be
As she had ever been.
Doubt had begun
To creep in.
Along about this time,
Her father whom
She had always
Been trying to impress
With her work ethic
And financial well-being,
Became gravelly ill,
And she took
Her annual two-week vacation
To spend with him.
Two weeks after she returned,
Her father passed away.
When she asked for
Additional time off
To take care of
Her father's funeral,
She was told that
She had used up
Her paid leave,
So she would
Have to take the time off
Without pay.
That was corporate policy,
But then there was
Corporate philosophy
To deal with.
It was also made
Abundantly clear to her
That the corporation
Expected her to
Dedicate her life
To the company,
And if she took
The extra time off,
Then she probably
Wasn't the right one
For the job
In the first place.
The corporation felt
That it owned her,
And could dictate her life.
Once she realized
That mentality,
She knew it was time
To declare her freedom.
In a career about face,
She took her leave
And never returned.
She ended up teaching
English as
A foreign language,
Earning a fraction
Of what she
Made previously,
But she is now happier
And freer
Than she had
Ever been before.
Though painful,
She doesn't begrudge
The road that led her
Where she is today.
Some people travel
Their entire lives
Searching to find
A purpose
Worthy of their life
And an activity
Worth the effort.
Now she has it all.

Teaching English Overseas

For those college graduates
Who speak English
As a native language,
There are opportunities
To live and work overseas
In almost every
Non-English speaking country
In the world.
There is a huge demand
Because in most countries,
Speaking English is viewed as
A prerequisite for a good job.
In times of recession
And high unemployment,
Knowing how to speak English
Becomes essential.
Students are desperate to learn
And language schools
Are sprouting up
Almost everywhere.
Host country nationals
Who teach English
Often stress grammar
Above practical usage,
So students tend to learn the rules,
But not how to speak.
Native English speakers
Are in high demand
Because they can naturally
Teach students
To converse fluently in English.
Some people manage to
Land teaching positions
Without any teaching credentials,
Which is how I got started
Teaching English overseas.
Generally, however,
Some form of
Teaching certification is required.
The are many TEFL
(Teaching English as
A Foreign Language)
Certification programs available.
Courses are available
Both in classroom settings
And on-line,
With the on-line courses
Being considerably cheaper.
Basic certification
Can be obtained
For as little as
One hundred ninety dollars.
In addition to basic certification,
There are also
Specialized certifications
For teaching young students
And for teaching business English.
Obviously, the more
Certifications one has,
The better prospects
One should have
In landing a good position.
The pay you receive
Is usually quite low
By American standards,
But often sufficient
To live quite well in country.
There can be
A substantial difference in pay
Between working
In the nations key cities
And outlying areas.
Most schools have
A two to three month
Summer vacation
Which should give you
Time to travel
And see the rest of the country.
Most of the time,
There is no necessity
Or requirement to speak
The local language,
In fact, it can be a benefit
Not speaking the local language.
It forces the students
To use English
When conversing with you.
Most of the time,
Teaching positions are obtained
When you are already
Located in the country
In which you want to teach.
This makes it far easier
For you to interview them,
And for them to interview you.
Each country has
Their own rules and regulations
Applicable to teaching
And working within the country.
Generally the school
Will walk you through
The paperwork required
For you to legally teach
In that country.
Some teachers will choose to
Offer private tutoring
To supplement their teaching salary.
Generally the TEFL school
Will assist you in finding placement
And will advise you
On the best way to secure a position,
And on what salary
You should expect
In a particular location.
I have taught in Turkey,
And have met people
Who have taught English
In Vietnam, China and Thailand.
Many people seem to love
Their teaching experience,
And it is often
Far less stressful
Then corporate jobs
Back here in America.
I have met several
American English teachers
Who have left seventy to eighty
Thousand dollar/year
Corporate positions
To teach English overseas,
Who fell in love with the job
And the freedom it offered.

Architectural Chronology

Out for a pleasant
Sunday morning stroll
On an remarkably cool
Mid summer day,
We zigzag our way
Through some of the
Older residential areas
Of San Jose, California,
Observing the various
Architectural eras represented.
The oldest place we passed
Was vintage 1890
Adobe brick house,
But there are a lot
Of the Queen Anne
Victorian style houses
From the 1900 – 1910 era.
Some are badly in need
Of care and maintenance,
But others have been
Renovated and repainted
To look stunningly beautiful.
Each decade seems to have
A recognizable style
Distinctly different from
That of the previous decade
As well as from
The decade that follows.
My least favorite houses
Are probably the ones
Build during the 50's and 60's,
For they seem to have
The least character
Of any period represented.
It is the tremendous variety
Of residences
That contribute enormously to
The flavor of this city.

San Jose Victorian Architecture

I have enjoyed
Many a pleasant stroll
Along the streets
Of San Jose, California
Eying the numerous
Victorian style homes
Nestled in amongst
The houses and buildings
From later periods of time.
I like the Queen Anne style
With its lacy, ornamental
Eastlake structural details.
These houses are generally
Circa 1870 to 1910,
And a lot of them
Have have withstood
The ravages of time
And abusive neglect
Fairly well, and some
Have been renovated
And transformed into
Law offices or
Historical show pieces.
One thing is for sure,
A little detailed paintwork
Does wonders in emphasizing
The character of those old houses.
It will take a lot more than paint
To renovate most of them though.
All the plumbing,
Electrical work would
Have to be replaced,
And insulation would have to be
Added throughout.
Since much of the woodwork
Would also have to be replaced,
There is very little of
The original structure
That could be kept.
Renovating one of those
Elderly homes
Is a whole lot more work
Than I care to take on,
But I am glad there are
People out there
With the finances, stamina
And willpower
To carry through
Such monumental projects.
I don't think
I would ever want to
Live in one of them,
Since the room sizes
Tend to be too small
For my taste,
But those old homes
Have a classical character
Well worth preserving.

Hut Tub Round Table

There is something magical
In the way a hot tub
Acts to breaks the ice
And lubricate the tongues
Of a group of strangers
Who chance to meet
Within its bubbling waters.
Perhaps it's an integral part
Of the California spirit,
Or at least of
The apartment complex
In which we dwell.
There are seven of us
Soaking in the pool,
And no one is from
Around these parts,
Mostly from diverse corners
Of the planet.
There is a guy from Morocco,
One from Macedonia,
Another from Armenia
And still another
From some place in India.
There is a girl from Mexico
A guy from Afghanistan
And then there is me
Who came here via
Turkey and Iraq.
What we have is a melting pot
Of people from all over,
Some young, college aged,
And a couple of us
What I would call
Middle aged!
We talked philosophy,
Dabbled in politics,
Even broached religion,
Plied the muddy waters
Of ancient history,
And aired our thoughts
Without trying to convince
Anybody of anything.
It was an oral free-for-all,
And I loved it.
It is fun sometimes to sit back
And converse about life.
I don't do that often enough
As far as I am concerned.
Usually I am just
Too busy living life
To slow down, mellow out,
And enjoy comparing notes
With others on exactly
What it is to be human.
This is as good a time to start,
I suppose, as any.

Noisy Neighborhood

In the English language class
I was teaching in Turkey,
I was querying the students about
Complaints they had
Regarding the neighborhoods
Where they lived.
We are all human beings,
After all,
And when we are cramped in
Close proximity to each other,
Something or someone
Is bound to rub us
The wrong way.
One guy complained
That his neighborhood
Was too noisy,
And he couldn't get any sleep.
He had dark circles
Around his eyes to prove it!
On further questioning
I found out that his wife and him
Just had their first baby
A couple months before,
So I immediately realized
Where the noise was coming from.
It was his house that was noisy,
And I surmised that
He probably wasn't
Wasn't the only one
Complaining about the noise.

In for a Rude Awakening

The girl is pregnant
With her first baby,
And has it all planned out
How it is going to be.
Handling the baby
Will be no problem,
She insists.
Her husband and her
Are very efficient!
Besides she states,
“All the baby does
The first year is sleep!”
I chuckled thinking to myself,
How little of the time
Will actually be spent sleeping,
Either for baby or parents.
She has no idea
What it will be like
Being transformed into a zombie
For the first year.
A new baby tends to be devoid of
Respect for parental efficiency,
And generally lays waste
To even the best made plans.
Then she tells me how
Her husband is working full time
And going to night school
To get his master's degree,
And I think to myself,
A lot of help he is going to be!
I wonder how much studying
He will get done
When he finally gets home each night
After work and school.
She is also working full time
And plans on returning to work
Almost immediately after
The baby is born,
Financial pressures being what they are.
She has no idea how much
Her perspective is bound to change,
All because of that baby.
She doesn't have any relatives
Conveniently close either,
So who is going to look after
The baby while she is at work?
Rather than rain on her parade,
Or be a proverbial profit of doom,
I walk off shaking my head,
Wondering if I was ever that naive.
Isn't first time motherhood awesome!
I have a sneaking suspicion
She and her husband
Are in for a major attitude adjustment.
They are about to undertake one of
Most difficult jobs in the world.
Sure, it is worth it,
If you survive the initiation.

A Most Imprudent Lad

He was young,
Fresh out of college,
Single, and bound to
Stay that way for a while.
It didn't seem to matter to him
That the group of us
Were co-workers meeting
In a public restaurant,
Or that half of those present
Were women.
Sex was on his mind
And the only topic
He he apparently deemed
Worthy of conversation.
Once he got started,
Whatever restraint
He might normally have had
Quickly vanished
As he boasted of
His sexual exploits
And pontificated
His thoughts on the subject.
He told us where,
In his opinion,
The most beautiful
And promiscuous women
Could be found.
He mixed this
With reference to
A survey he had conducted
Of the local strip clubs
And massage parlors.
I have met plenty of guys before
Who had similar one-tract minds,
Especially when a bit lubricated,
But this guy was sober.
He obviously had no respect
For any of the females present,
Or perhaps he was
Trying to taunt them.
He topped all that off
With the comment that he was
Going to Palm Springs
For a weekend
With his girl friend,
And we all wondered
What kind of girl
Could put up with
A guy like him.
He somehow managed
To fulfill every
Negative stereotype
Of how guys think
That a woman,
Frustrated with
Male-female relationships
Might entertain
During the course of that meal.

Undercover Beggar

Deep in the heart of Istanbul
A police officer
Was assigned to work undercover
Disguised as a beggar
To observe criminal activity
Near a particular corner.
After three months at his
Assigned begging station,
The stakeout was completed
And the criminals
He had been watching
Were apprehended.
The problem was that
That the policeman
Discovered he could make
Much more money as a beggar
Than he did as a policeman.
So he quit the police force
And returned to the corner full time
As a self employed beggar.
A local news service
Got a hold of the story
And had a field day with it.
As you might imagine
With the economy
In dire straights
And unemployment
At an all time high,
This resulting in a plethora
Of new copycat beggars.

Introduction to the Barracuda

“Don't let her appearance
Fool you!” I was told.
“She can be ruthless
When she wants to be,
Especially if someone
Crosses her path,
Or tries to waste her time
With stupid questions.
She doesn't take kindly
To air-headed idiots.
She is a smart cookie,
And obviously knows
What she is doing,
And what she wants.
You be straight with her
And she will be
Straight with you as well,
But if you try
To feed her
A line of bullshit,
She'll see through it
In a nanosecond,
And is liable to
Bite your head off.
She has a knack
For cutting a man
Down to size
Who gets in her way
And butchering him alive
With her words.
If provoked,
She can and will
Extract blood
With her tongue.
She will cut you to shreds
Without hesitation
If you are anything
Less than candid with her.”
Then her informative assistant
Smiled and said,
“So go on in and try to sell her
On what you've got!”

Temporary Licenses

I these times when
The majority of marriages
Fail the test of time,
And end up in divorce,
What if we were only
Given a temporary permit,
Or if the first time,
A learners permit
When we decided
To get married?
I wonder how many couples
Would renew
Their vows after
Their permit expired.
If a person was
Married before,
But he or she couldn't
Make it work,
Should they still be able to
Apply for a learner's permit?
I know it is a beautiful thing
When a couple who has been
Married for 20 or 30 years
Decides to renew their vows,
But does that mean
They got married
With a temporary license
In the first place?
Is that the secret
Of what made it work?
I wonder which should
Last longer,
A learner's permit
Or a temporary license.
Maybe part of the secret
Of having a great relationship
Is forever being
In the learning mode.
Maybe what is needed
Is lifetime learners permit!