Mother and Child

Having praised youth in our last entry, this week we turn our attention to what allows youth to exist, the bond praised in Paul Simon‘s Mother and Child Reunion and humbly immortalized in much of my work, Mother and Child.

My first cognition of a Mother and Child anything came while reading A.E. Van Vogt‘s The War Against the Rull.

There’s a scene in which a female ezwal (alien, six-legged, telepathic saurian (according to Wikipedia. I remember it as more like an earwig), and hostile to humans) and her child are in a crashing ship. The ezwal are huge (a few tons). The mother wraps her herself around her child to protect it and cushion it from the crash.

Even remembering that scene now, I tear up.

It was the first time I was aware there was some kind of mother-child relationship different from the one I experienced.

And I have longed to be the child of a loving, caring, protecting, ezwal mother ever since.

A Cute Young Thing

Ah, youth.

Mine is gone many years, except in my heart when I gaze upon Susan (wife/partner/Princess).

She is my delight and my joy.

Together forty-six years, married forty of them, not always easy, not always nice, and wonderful to remember.

We knew early on we weren’t suited to have children. Anybody who knows my personal history knows I had no good models for parenting, and I openly worried my parents’…flaws?…methods. Yes, that’s better, methods of parenting would cause any children I had harm. As it was, I didn’t do my first wife proud except for the fact I left her, again knowing I was not suited to be a good husband, provider, and father.

I often consider that one of my first rational thoughts, recognizing how flawed I was.

Still have flaws, of course, and they are different ones, hopefully less vexsome ones, more along the line of liking a good superhero movie every once in a while because I need to veg out for a while.

And all that noted, I sometimes regret not having children.

A friend of mine recently had her tubes tied, so abhorrent was the thought of having children to her.
I chided her.

“Children are wonderful,” I told her. “Lightly roasted with a little salt, they’re delicious.”


And I still appreciate The Wild‘s sharing its younth with us.

He’s a Traveling Dude

Having previously missed my metaphor, we reach again.

Behold a traveling dude.

He knows his place and hopes we know ours. (we do)

He graces us with his elegance, his subtlety of movement, his ability to hear less than a whisper.

He moves on silent feet, watching, listening, wondering.

Okay, enough romanticizing.

The Wild is not necessarily cruel and neither is it kind.

What it is, is balanced.

The Wild understood economics long before Two-Legs ever considered the term.

For that matter, few (if any) Two-Legs truly understand the entirety of economics.

My first time through college, my first term, I had an economics survey course twice a week, 7:45-9am.

I went to the first class, the mid-term, and took the final. Never opened the book. Got a “C.”

That class pretty much convinced me economics was a joke, a waste of time.

Years (!) later I read Taichi Sakaiya’s The Knowledge-Value Revolution and both veil and vale were lifted. Since that time I’ve applied economic theorems to everything from energy systems to communication systems to marketing to cosmologic concepts and all and everything in between with great success.

But The Wild?

Remember the words of Pivey T. Krapnec…

Nature bats last and owns the stadium.


But it’s a Lovely Tree

Sometimes I catches ’em and sometimes I don’t.

Pretty much a metaphor for life, that.

At least some people think and say so.

I probably did once, myself. Once meaning “for a long period of time.”

Now, not so much.

One of my teacher/mentors told me “Always look for the good” and that, to me, is brilliant.

Something doesn’t go your way?

You can spend time agonizing over it – and note, learning from it is not agonizing over it. Don’t beat yourself up, and do explore it. Figure out what happened and do what is necessary so it won’t happen again.

Learn, grow, explore, understand, become.

In this case, perhaps the lesson is to remove all the trees?


Hecate and The First, Second, Third, Fourth, and possibly Fifth Edition

We thank you for your patience.

I feel I should precede that with something like “All our customer support personnel are busy helping other callers now…”

I’d be much happier if the statement was something like “All our underpaid, overworked, undertrained, foreign-based staff who are concurrently making dinner, changing diapers, or doing something much more important to their survival are confusing and confounding the bejesus out of other increasingly enraged customers…”

But you, dear reader, were patient with me with last week’s Raccoon Butts, and I thank you.