Esoteric Bowl

I woke to the morning light. I had slept throughout the night without waking, which is something that I haven’t done in the longest of time. I crawled out of bed and microwaved a cup of coffee. Between my first and third gulps from the cup, I peeked between the louvers to see a beautiful day blooming outside.

I decided that I must get out of the house and enjoy the day. I did the bathroom thing, showered, deodorized, brushed my teeth and combed my hair. I put on my favorite t-shirt and then my lucky baseball-cap. I placed the camera and notebook in the backpack and then rested its strap around my left shoulder. I grabbed my wallet with one hand and with the other I took some change from the counter to put in my pocket. It was then that I noticed that I had forgotten to put my blue-jeans on. Thank goodness for pockets.

On a recent visit to the grocery store, I took somewhat of a consumer gamble. Rather than choosing a name-brand mouthwash, I decided to purchase the generic brand instead.

I have few loyalties to specific name-brands, so I generally don’t have a problem with buying generic products. Basically, it depends on what I’m buying. For example, I will buy generic coffee, but not generic tea. Generic cereal tastes pretty much the same as what the brand-names offer, and I can live with the fact that they aren’t endorsed by a cartoon tiger and the package never includes a toy. I don’t mind generic ketchup, but nothing but Best Foods mayonaise will do. I find no difference between generic and brand-name pasta, but when it comes to toilet paper, the brand-name products seem to offer a softier soft.

So not having tried the generic mouthwash before, I thought I would give it a try. If the product turned out to be good, there could be substantial savings in the future. But instead of having that crisp whoosh mouthwash taste or the antiseptic bite of germs being attacked and destroyed, the generic brand tasted like weak strawberry Kool-Aid. Some shopping gambles pay off, some don’t.

I’m getting old. Through the years, I have jokingly said that phrase on occasions when I’ve experienced unknown body aches or when I discovered the first few gray hairs in my beard. Despite the little signs of age here and there, the reality of actually getting old always seemed to be years away. But getting old doesn’t happen overnight, instead it gradually appears in subtle ways over time.

It’s discovering that the medicine cabinet is actually filled with medicines. It’s finding that doctors no longer first look in your ears and throat when you are sick, but rather choose to probe in areas that require compromising positions. It’s the realization that you can no longer eat and drink anything you desire because it either stays with you far too long and is difficult to burn off or it wants to leave your system far too quickly.

The aging process is continual, and we all accept that it’s a part of life. But until certain signs unfold in life, aging somehow doesn’t seem to be as real. Of course I am happy to report that it’s not all down hill from here, and there is still a great deal of life to be experienced and enjoyed. In the end, the best part of getting old is living long enough to experience it.

Yesterday the weather was fantastic. I was taking photos here and there and wherever the eye found something of interest to shoot. While walking under a blue sky with the warmth of the sun shining on my face, it suddenly dawned on me how beautiful the day was. Everywhere I turned there was beauty to be seen. The beauty of the day and of the world filled me with an overwhelming feeling of happiness, a kind of happiness that made me want to smile, and then I noticed that unconsciously, I already was.

Following the attacks on September 11, we were told that the world had changed. When President Bush signed the Patriot Act, it was pointed out that eliminating current checks and balances within the system was necessary because the world had changed.

When the push towards war in Iraq was made, one of the many arguments given for attacking was that the world had changed and thus there was an immediacy to remove Saddam Hussein to secure the weapons of mass destruction.

When the President was questioned about his pre-election stance and prior criticism of nation-building, and how he was now flip-flopping on his previous policy, he again pointed out that the world had changed since the 9-11 attacks, and nationbuilding was now necessary.

In the end, it seems that every proposal, each policy change and all necessary actions are somehow tied to how the world has changed due to the attacks of 9-11. Things are different now, so we are told. The world has changed and old policies no longer apply. But as much as we are reminded of all the changes to our world, the President’s desire for tax cuts remain.

The President’s original tax cut proposal was $726 billion. But the House has so far approved cuts of $550 billion, and the Senate has backed cuts of $350 billion. In a time where Governors are pleading to Washington for financial assistance, where teachers are being layed-off, where police claim to be underfunded and understaffed, and 500,000 individuals have been released from their jobs in the past two months alone, the President’s mantra of ‘tax cut’ just doesn’t wash.

Giving 80% of the tax cuts to the wealthiest 20% of the population is not going to solve our economic woes. Trickle-down-economics was a failure in the 80’s, strapping us with the biggest deficit in our history. To be sure, if these large tax cuts are passed, the bridge between the haves and have-nots will widen, as states will be forced to cut more services and unemployment will increase.

Now, more than ever, the funds should be used in progressive ways that will allow us to rebuild our own nation while strengthening our economy for the future. Failed economic policies of filling the pockets of the rich are policies of the past. Doesn’t the President and his administration know that the world has changed since the September 11 attacks?

In the heart of Honolulu just on the outskirts of downtown, there’s an old cemetery that is literally surrounded by modern development. With the exception of a mowed lawn, the area isn’t maintained very well. The gates surrounding the cemetery are rusted, the grass is brown and dressed with leaves, and the roots of large banyan trees slowly swallow some of the tombstones.

On Saturday, I walked through this graveyard for the first time. Most, if not all of those laid to rest here died shortly before or soon after 1900. There are a couple of Catholic priests buried here, as well as a mass grave in what appears to be an entire church congregation. But the majority of gravesites are of individual family members, most of which have ethnic names and came from far off places. Born in Dublin. Born in Portugal. Born is Brazil.

Some of the markers show that multiple family members passed away within the same period time. Others show women and infant children being buried together. There was one enclosed area with two markers, both were infants from the same family that had passed within a year apart; Baby Edward & Baby Cherry.

I felt badly for these people. Not only had many of them died far too early in their lives, but now it seemed that most had long since been forgotten and their memory now tainted by the lack of deserving maintenance of the grounds. I’m not a fire and brimstone kind of guy, but it’s just a matter of respect. I want to do something for these people. They deserve a decent gravesite.

I was captivated by one site in particular, although I really don’t know why. Maybe it was because of her lovely name of Angelina. Or maybe because she had passed at the young age of fourteen. Maybe it was her heartwarming smile in her photo that remained on her tombstone, or the faded plastic roses that dressed her gravesite.

Although I didn’t have the capability or means to clean the entire graveyard, I weeded the area around Angelina’s gravesite. I walked over to the nearby hospital and purchased a small bouquet of flowers for her and put them on her site. It felt good to do that, and I intend to visit her again.