Seeking a reason for being hasn't ever concerned me. Why I am just isn't important as long as I am, and as long as I'm able to continue enhancing my state of being through learning experiences. If a time comes that I'm unable to learn something new then living will be pointless and I will no longer want to exist. And the coolest thing about this existance is how much I do not know and still have opportunity to learn, a veritable infinity of learning awaits. And being a reason

I was fortunate to have been introduced to the power of computing using the delightful device on the left before being introduced to the dreadful device on the right. The device on the left instilled a deep desire to compute on the go while the device on the right triggered stress at having to schedule time in a lab, getting to the lab on schedule to sit at a clunky machine to create it so that it could be carefully managed (not dropped) with a stack of others like it to feed

Rounding the last bend on the way to work one fine spring morning, I was shocked to see a huge cloud of mayflies in flight overhead, and an asshole passing illegally in my lane ahead. Swerving to avoid the asshole, he yanked himself back into his lane and zoomed by as I vigorously flipped him off from the shoulder. By then the mayflies were everywhere around me so I eased off to the side of the road and killed the engine to watch the spectacle unfold. I caught myseff caring a

Relocating so much further downslope after being burned out of house and home by the USFS, I now face a different, if all too familiar, set of threats to life and limb. Two of these threats I had deliberately moved to higher elevation to avoid. Tornadoes and venemous snakes. I have no debilitating fear of either, just a healthy respect tempered by personal experiences with both and decided it would be nice to never have to worry about either ever again. The third threat, into

She's still here, somehow wintering in the studio out of diapause. The warmth must have tricked her into staying out of hibernation. What she's finding in here for food and water is a mystery. I keep it too clean. There is never any condensation on windows. No plants are being watered. I've seen no other insects she might eat. Maybe my sheddings are enough.

It's fun imaging what death is going to be like. Having no beliefs to sway my thinking on the matter, superstitiously speaking, beyond the final quakes and fizzles of dwindling mind function when the time comes, I do not worry about any great beyond. I am intrigued, however, with what the final mind quakes and fizzles are going to be like, and speculate freely on that aspect of transition state. My favorite hypothesis centers on an initial spike of brain activity as synaptic

Thirteen years spent as a common laborer with limited skill sets, taking college coursework as time and budget allowed during that span of years before beginning a professional career which would carry on for thirty years, twelve of which would entail operating my own company, the path was long but not as arduous as expected. Along the way there were always lots of fun times experienced between stretches of work, and even most of those were a joy to have lived through, though

First time walking into the foyer of St. Joseph Hospital in OKC, I was dumbfounded by it all. My only reference to its artdeco vastness came from some Superman cartoons on TV, so that's the sensation it imparted as we went inside to check me in for first strabismus surgery. I wasn't frightened by it or by any of the experiences leading up to and including surgery. Doctor King was a nice man and somehow kept me calm and happy through all the exams. The nurses were nuns and the

When I turned nine, my paternal grandmother took me fishing with her at Baker Lake. I wasn't keen on fishing so before evening faded to nighttime I asked if it was okay for me to go walking around the lake. She agreed and off I went to explore a favorite place during a favorite time of day. Scaling the slope up to the top of the dam, I walked its length at a leisurely pace then turned and walked back a bit more quickly as darkness began wrapping around everything. Near the e

My maternal grandmother had a streak of hyper-intuition which caused her to have premonitory dreams. Living on Route 66 in a small dusty town in southwestern Oklahoma, we visited her and her prankster husband every year, sometimes twice a year, and listened enthralled by his accounts of how she had dreamed of something happening to someone only for that dream to have then occurred in real life. Undergoing surgery once, she dreamed there was a scorpion in her hospital bed with

In the 70s I spent a lot of time exploring The Breaks in southwestern Oklahoma. It had broken prairie land full of rough ravines sometimes rushing with floodwater but most of the time bone dry. It had mesas and little caves just below the rims of some of those mesas. In those caves were creatures seeking shelter from the scorching sun, sipping mineral-laden moisture seeping from the chamber walls. In 1976 I went exploring alone and found a cave with Camel Crickets clinging to

Turned on the stereo tonight and heard a low hum. Uh oh. It's just a little Douk Audio ST-01 pumping 100 watts-per-channel, but still... Looking at the amplifier my first instinctive reaction was that it was a loose tube. The one on the right looked crooked. Must have bumped it while messing around with a USB cable connection near the amp earlier this evening. Switched off the power to it, pulled the tube, felt its pins. Hot . Let it cool, plugged it firmly back into its sock

According to some, this little beauty shouldn't be here. Attracting attention when it landed between mandolin and desklamp, my initial reaction was delight. The delight didn't fade after seeing it was an Asian species. Intentionally introduced in the early 1900s, it didn't become firmly established here until about the time I was wrapping up college degree plan. So its line has struggled as much as any immigrant family has since landing on the shores of this land. Brought her

Siamee's recycling continues at pace after his death almost two months ago. By now, his chemical essence is passing along mycelial network paths to nourish plants and trees at who know what distance from his final place of rest, an ideal progression from one phase of life to the next. Nothing except tiny agents of decay and digestion disturbed his remains, as it is in the natural realm. If I am fortunate enough to expire outside in a secret place where no one is likely to fi

Fortunate to have been born into a family driven to explore rather than conform, boredom has never been an issue for me. Most every teacher at ten schools attended in as many public education districts I lived in tried their damnedest to instill conformity as my default mode of operation in society, but prior exposure to unfathomable joys and excitement only wild explorations can bring while my mind was still in primal learning mode thwarted such a toxic outcome. And so, bore

Even as external forces insistently–-even perniciously–press and poke and prod at one's realm of existence, the world is indeed what we make of it. Our reactions and responses to external pressures become part and parcel of this making, merely more ingredients in the mix. Keeping this in mind enhances the making, rendering its results spicier and specialer; more memorable. As this simple fact of life sank in, making of my world became much more enjoyable, especially as waking

Entering teenhood, tests at public school indicated an aptitude for forestry. Students were then tasked with interviewing people working in their field of interest. I looked up a local forest ranger living and working in the Lafayette area and requested an interview. He agreed to it and a time and date was set. I was looking forward to it, eager to get the inside scoop. The interview was intended to be the first step on a lifelong journey my 8th grade English teacher had enco

Squeaks adopted Skye as mother immediately upon arrival here. Skye's motherly behavior alerted me to presence of the starving kitten. Still too young to know how to drink from a bowl then, Squeaks has since managed somehow to survive, and thrive. I don't know why I'm so impressed by the scrappy little kitten's drive to live. It's innate in most every living being to survive no matter how hard life gets. Squeaks is no different than the rest of us in this respect. Now two mont

A shitslinging hacker in Singapore is attempting to leverage this blog to nefarious advantage. SPF, SingCERT, Interpol/IGCI and the FBI Legat have been notified about this activity.

Four decades ago a cat showed up at the house and decided to stay with us.  A beautiful black male with an unusually long bob tail, he liked to play pool when the rock music was cranked up. He enjoyed harassing the neighbor's dobermans when they crossed into his territory. One day he brought home a great heron he had bagged down at the lakeshore. A very cool cat.