Stick 'em Up!

You know, all this town needs is more water and

a better class of people.

Yeah, says the Dodge City resident.  People say that

about Hell too.

Wyatt Earp and his Buntline Special, a long handled revolver that could be used with a shoulder stock if necessary.

Wyatt Earp spent time in Dodge City, but he is forever linked with Tombstone, Arizona.  "The town too tough to die" is a former Wild West town that came into being during the silver rush when men followed the path West in search of the their fortunes.  Today it's hanging on by it's fingernails.  LIttle boys and girls no longer grow up thinking about cowboys or have starry eyed dreams of the West.  I doubt if many little people have heard of the OK Corral and the legendary gunfight.  And it is a legend.

Whats wrong with that?  We need heros who have a moral compass that can't be compromised.  A hero needs to stand up to greed and corruption whether in real life or in folklore.  So, Tombstone makes it simple.  There are good guys and bad guys.  You always know which is which.

And in this story, the good guy always wins.

These days, we all have to have a little hero in us to navigate this complicated world.  The bad guys wear white hats and tell us they are fighting to make our life better.  Maybe.  But more often, we find that they are really the bad guys and they are not our friends.  Tombstone has a simple answer for that too.

We could all use a better class of people.

It's Just My Opinion

.......it's just my opinion, but....









According to Australian Shooter Magazine this week, "if you consider that there have been 160,000 troops through the Iraq theater of operations during the past 22 months and a total of 2112 deaths, that gives a firearm death rate of 60 per 100,000 soldiers.

The firearm death rate in Washington, D.C. for the same period is 80.6 per 100,000 people.  That means that you are 25% more likely to be shot and killed in the nation's capitol, which has some of the strictest gun laws in the country, than you are in Iraq.

Conclusion

The U.S. should pull out of Washington.

(Sent to me by my friend Gerri, who stays out of D.C.)

Avatar

Artists weave more than objects.  Sometimes they get to be magical helpers.

Objects, paint, settings, storyboards, sculpture, sound, animation, construction crews, computer techs, writers, amazing technology and wonderous light merged into a new world.

There is literally a cast of thousands in Avatar,  most of them behind the screen. 

The story is simple, and rich beyond measure.  A collaboration of gifted artists has woven things in such a way that through their art, we experience a light into our own consciousness.

A light that reveals our own radiance and all our possibilities.

It's all here.  All the mythic themes that have guided and sustained us through our long evolution.








A Colossus in military camouflage strides onto the screen, looking for all the world like the master of the Universe, who could snatch lightning bolts from the sky and hurl them through all the pitiful defenses assembled against him.

He is supported by the Goliath corporations; unfeeling, automatons who revere money.  Because money is power.   And they have all that money can buy.  Individuals do not matter in their world.  They are so replacable, either by a machine or another expendable human.  The goal is all that matters and the goal is always having more of everything.

The hero is not a David, yet.  He isn't even a whole man.  But more than his body has been damaged.  His psyche has been warped by a world that used his skills and abused his soul.  He has a journey to make, the Hero's Journey.

This archetype, this epitome of the heroic quest,  is so ingrained in us that we immediately recognize it and understand it's power.  We all have the archetype embodied in our fundamental characteristics.  It is a major part of what makes us human.  From prehistoric rock art, to Plato, to Carl Jung, the heroic quest has been drawn, described and known as a thing so worth attaining that those who act against this instinct are considered to have aberrant behavior, to be abhorent.  These people who act against the common good are called criminal.

The hero goes forth from the common, everyday world by being separated from his usual surroundings, thought patterns and behaviors.  He is thrust into an situation where he must overcome tremendous forces and almost supernatural wonders to achieve a goal or to attain self knowledge. 

The hero's journey may be a personal quest for self discovery.  Or, he may use his transformation to attain a boon.  This he will bring back on his return to share with others.  It could be fire.  Or the knowledge that we are one being.  In this way, we move from one place, to a higher, better place.  It's how we evolve.  And when someone is moving to that place, we always know it - it is intimately familiar.

In Avatar, the Pandoran race use "I see you" as their greeting.  They mean they see past your outer shell to the you that is part of them.

Light is such an important part of Avatar, both as a visually stunning piece of the cinematography, but also as an analogy.  A hero has received and accepted a call to adventure.  He will strive, through enormous difficulty, to improve the world.  With the self knowledge he has won, he will act in beautiful ways not visible to him before.  His being is now his art.

Artists are The Pathfinders.

This Little Light of Mine Sundays

Let My Little Light Shine

The Kingston Trio

                                                                                  

Unless someone like you cares a whole

awful lot, nothing is going to get better.

It's not.

Dr. Seuss

The American Southwest is full of images that inspire awe and creativity.  The liquid blue sky, red rocks, gray green cactus, brilliant and brief flowering plants and sunsets that are so intense they seem surreal.  Add to that a healthy and thriving family, a lovely home and the leisure time of retirement to pursue any activity, just for fun.  Really, being just thankful is hardly enough.  In some way, dues still need to be paid.

We all have our favorite causes ( you do, don't you?), but it seems that "causes" have come to mean huge organizations and far flung operations that are faceless, begging for more and more donations.  The need is real.  But, the never ending demand on our emotions and resources is exhausting.   What to do?  How to choose?

It's easy to make a buck.

It's a whole lot tougher to make a difference.

Tom Brokow

This isn't about solicitation or charities.  This is about people.  I was going to say "ordinary" people, but there is nothing ordinary about them.  Nor is there anything ordinary about you.  I'm just sick to death of seeing the evening news filled with negative coverage and sound bites chosen for their shock value.  And so, every Sunday, I will try to run this post and change the "shining people" in them. There are better things in the world.  This is a picture of some of them. 

Greg Mortenson

In 1993, Greg Mortenson climbed Pakistan's K-2, the second highest mountain in the world.  While recovering from that climb, he met a group of children sitting in the dirt, writing with sticks in the sand.  He made them a promise that he would help build them a school.  A humanitarian campaign grew from that one effort.  Today, there are 131 schools in the rural and often volatile areas of Afghanistan and Pakistan promoting education, especially for girls.  You can find much information about Greg and his organizations just by googling his name.  Here is one.

http://www.penniesforpeace.org/

I would love to hear about people that you think are shining.  Drop me a line in the comments section or send an email.  Don't you think it's time for a little good news?

Let Your Little Light Shine

WHITE CHRISTMAS

Get it on Santa!  White Christmas like you have never heard it before.  This little bit of silliness always starts my Holidays with a great laugh and good humor.

TESTICLE FESTIVAL

So, do I have your attention?  After seeing the ad below in Tuesday's 'Yuma Sun', I thought it was a fluke and a pretty funny one at that.  Just to satisfy my curiosity, I ran it through Google and what do you know!  Its a big deal in a lot of western states.  Figures.  Big guys on horses, carrying guns and shooting varmits would just naturally gravitate toward bull testicles, wouldn't they?  Must be a 'manly' thing.  I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around this one.  But I'm not trying very hard.

Have a Ball at the Testicle Festival

Now, these aren't just any old testicles.  No sir!  These are USDA grade bull testicles.  I am not aware of the grading guidelines.  But bigger is better.  There are formal names for this delicacy.

One is 'Rocky Mountain Oysters'.  Another is (groan) 'Montana Tendergroin'.  They taste like chicken.  Well, sure they do.  Doesn't everything?

There is apparently only one  basic recipe and here it is.  Just in case you have the odd dozen or so testicles you just don't know how to cook. Use frozen USDA Grade bull testicles.  Skin them when they are just thawing, because the membrane peels like an orange.  Hungry yet?  Marinate them in beer.  Bread them four times and then deep fry them.  Or, you could just go out to one of the festivals like the one below.  Yuma, Arizona is having one this weekend.

Warning - Some Nudity

Wow!  Bikers, boobs and bull balls.

Good Times!

And people ask me why I stay single. 

Testicle Festival from ulteriorproductions.com on Vimeo.

Valley of Fire

Over 150 million years ago,  in the age of the dinosaurs, shifting sand formed huge expanses of red sandstone over most of what is now the American Southwest.  The same forces that uplifted mountain ranges and the subsequent erosion over many eons then formed faults and valleys leaving the formations we see today.   Other rock formations include limestone and shale. 

Thats the geololgy.  Its not what you first think about when you drive through it.  The sky is so intensely blue and the rocks are so red that it is immediately apparent that this is a unique and mystical landscape.  You just want to get out of the car and walk around in it.  To touch a few things.  To connect.

The Beehive

Your imagination just takes off.  Who were the people that called this home?  How did they live here?  Where are they now?  The span of occupation dates from 300 B.C. to around 1150 A.D.  They were the Basket Maker Peoples.  They predated the later Anasazi Peublo Farmers, but whether they assimilated into another group or just disappeared is not clear.  They were hunter gatheres.  They left rock art behind.  They are gone.  It's just too big a mystery, isn't it?  When they looked at the formations like the one below, what animal do you think they pictured? 

Elephant Rock

This is the West, don't forget.  Full of cowboys and outlaws who needed hideouts.  Follow a trail here to a slight depression in the rocks called "Mouse's Tank".  Rainwater collects here, sometimes lasting for months.  Perfect for a guy on the run.  Along the route, there are many prehistoric petroglyphs.  Did these people come upon the water and stay for awhile?  I wonder if they were surprised when it dried up or if they were somehow able to calculate when the rains came and water would be found here again.

This is near Atlatl Rock.  An atlatl is a fishhook shaped wooden tool that was used to hurl a spear great distances.  They figured that out, as well as peoples from the same time periods on other continents.  How does that happen?  There are many varieties of flora and fauna, even in a place that looks as desolate at this.  The Visitor Center here describes how intimate Basketmaker Peoples were with their environment.  Nothing that was usable for survival escaped their notice. 

People sat around a fire here, long ago, looking up at a blue sky while a meal was cooking.  Maybe they were worried where the kids were, or if they would find water the next day.  Some talented craftsman was making an atlatl for the hunt the next day.  Others were thinking about what to draw on the rocks to tell their story.  

Life went on.

(The Valley of Fire is located an easy 45 minute drive northeast of Las Vegas, Nevada.  It used to be on Lake Meade.  The lake isn't here anymore.  A 13 year drought has taken it's toll)

Roadrunners And My Christmas List

ROADRUNNER
Geococcyx Californianus

This is one nifty bird.  They are mostly carnivorous and run like the wind.  Roadrunners can fly if running won't do, but they prefer the desert floor.  Although they have a silly reputation from cartoon images, the sounds they make are a descending series of "coos".  No bird ever made a "beep, beep" sound.  For it's size, this bird is a ferocious hunter.  It can handle anything smaller than it is and can even kill and eat a rattlesnake.  It digests the snake while half of it is still hanging from its mouth. That fact is going to come in handy later in this story.

This country has more consumer goods than any nation on the planet.  We practically import all of China.  And, when the wind is from the west and the stars are in perfect alignment, the price is right too.  Who can resist a sale?  It's unamerican.  I had just one more teensy little thing to find to finish my Christmas shopping.  Don't start with me on being so organized that I could get all this done before the 'after Thanksgiving Day' sales.  I may be a senior citizen, but I'm not out of my mind.

• So, what's wrong with this picture?  NO SALES CLERKS!!!  And, if you are fortunate enough to actually find one, chances are one of the following scenarios will happen.
• Clerk has no idea what you are talking about
• Clerk has no idea where the product is located
• Clerk has no inking of store's layout
• Clerk can't speak English
• Clerk is on the phone and can't be bothered with you
• Clerks are gathering to talk about boyfriends
• Clerk can't figure out register
• Clerk makes mistake and it takes hours to find a manager who actually knows how to correct it and ring up the sale

        

Enter Geococcyx Californianus, the Roadrunner.  Any bird that can catch and eat a rattlesnake ought to be able to run down and nail a sales clerk.  It can digest the clerk as it's nasty little feet hang out of its beak as it does with the rattlesnake.  Or, it can use it's habit of spearing the prey and beating it to death against the rocks.

Either way, I'm a happy woman.

SUPERSTITION MOUNTAIN




The most painted and photographed landmark in Arizona, after the Grand Canyon, is Superstition Mountain, rising 3000 feet above the desert floor of the Salt River Valley in the Tonto National Forest - the whole lying inside the boundaries of the huge Sonoran Desert. It encompasses 242 square miles of rocky cliffs.The climate is treacherous. Summer temperatures soar over 125 degrees with little or no water in sight. In the cooler season, snow can cover the peaks and even the desert base can plunge below freezing. Wood to use for fires is scarce, the forest plants here are cacti. Food is questionable, assuming you could catch anything. And, the wildlife is hungry too - you might look pretty good to them.


 Why would anyone care? GOLD. The romance and allure of finding the Lost Dutchman Mine is just irresistable. Jacob Waltz left no clues and has been dead for over a 100 years, yet maps and forays into the Superstitions have continued for all that time.  Interested? 

Well, you're going to need a map. It just so happens that there are dozens of those. There are 62 documented maps on record, even though Mr. Waltz wasn't talking. How tough can this be? Lets take a look.




From an unspecified point which may be along a river, a road or just the bottom of the page, we travel toward some benchmark.  Did someone draw an "X" on the ground there? We know it is after the "deep cliffs", but that's sort of a relative term isn't it; everything is a deep cliff. Now, "facing W of SW third of 4 peaks over right shoulder". Hmmm. Somewhere, with 3 red hills in front of me as I am facing WSW, I'm to look over my right shoulder. I will be looking at the 3'rd of 4 peaks.....behind me? What does that accomplish? Maybe there is a hill shaped like an arrow pointing the way. Obviously, either the map is not to scale, or the kidney shaped pit is both miles and miles away from "X" and half the size of Lake Michigan. This just won't do.  Better try again.




This is a little better. Places have names, but I doubt there are street signs. If we find a place called Buzzards Roost while facing Coffee Mountain there will be a trail heading....up?  Did no one own a compass? Going up, we find "Reid's Water", further along the road forks and if we bear left we will come to "Reid's Silver Queen Mine".  Off to the right of Buzzards Roost are "old markers", but we would just have to know what they looked like, it isn't specified. Then, before the trail turns "up" again, a strange little symbol is off to the right and looks like a shovel. Dig here?  Now we sort of know where we are, but have no idea what to do with it. Lets get another map.






This one has Spanish references, so those will have to be identified.  Other than that, try this one out on a topo map and see where you end up.  It is not easy to find a starting point without some sort of scale.  Well, there are dozens of these maps.  Lets just get another.




Much, much better.  Trouble is, the "Phoenix Don's Club" has had this information for years and haven't had much luck.  I love the detailed description of the sun shining through the two notches of "Horse's Head" in the hills to land on "X" halfway up a mesa some unspecified distance away.  Not sure which mesa, there are lots of them.  Well, that's just crystal clear.

I'm way ahead of anybody looking for gold.  The Superstitions are just beyond Apache Junction, an easy drive from here.  I'll pack a picnic and take a moment to be in the desert air with those mountains as a backdrop and that luminous blue sky overhead.  Just LOOK at the picture.

If that isn't golden, nothing is.

(Blogger has improved it's posting pages.  Consequently, this post, which was written before that, has a few quirkly colors and fonts.  Your PC is fine, it's me, I'll get it right next time.)

BOO !!

A SCARY HALLOWEEN STORY.............



One dark and foggy night, a man hurries home through deserted streets, his feet squelching on wet leaves with every step. His breath rushes out in front of him in a white stream as he wraps his arms tightly around himself trying to conserve the warmth inside his long wool trench coat. There are night sounds. The dripping rainwater is now turning to ice. Frozen twigs snap as the wind whistles through tight places.

At the edge of his hearing, he is aware of a small bumping sound growing steadily louder. Almost, but not quite, like a door left open that is blowing back and forth, slamming against its frame.

Bump, bump.......bump, bump.........bump, bump.......

Its more like someone in heavy boots, and its getting closer and louder still. The man feels the hair on his neck rise and he begins to walk much faster, as he turns to look behind him to see what is causing that horrible clumping. The icy air catches in his throat as he sees through the fog, the image of an upright wooden casket, banging right down the middle of the street toward him!

BUMP, bump......BUMP, bump........BUMP, bump.............

Terrified, the man turns and runs toward his house. but the casket keeps pace with him. He thinks of the safety of his home and tries to put more distance between him and the grotesque thing following him when he suddenly hears a slamming noise. Over his shoulder his watches in horror as the casket lid bangs open and shut, revealing the grotesque thing inside.

BUMP, BANG!.......BUMP, BANG!..........BUMP, BANG!........

The man races to his front porch, fumbles the key in the lock, then wrenches open the door and leaps across the threshold, slamming and locking it behind him. He stands with his back against the heavy door, his chest heaving as his gasps for breath. The thing in the casket is on the porch! It crashes through the door, knocking the man forward. He takes the stairs three at a time, desperate for any sanctuary from the unspeakable monstrosity in the casket following him up the stairs.

BANG! CLANG! BANG! CLANG!

He locks himself in the bathroom and looks around desperately for something, anything, to use against the cadaverous thing slamming through the door and stretching out its hands for him. The smell of wet earth and rotted flesh is all around him when SCREAMS and SCREAMS and SCREAMS erupt from his throat. His thrashing hands grab the first thing he feels and he hurls the cough syrup at the specter facing him when.............

(........get ready.........)


The Coffin Stops.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

(Although I would happily acknowledge the author of this idea, I do not know who that is; it has been making the rounds for years. The considerable verbal embellishments and use of stock photos are all mine.)

THAT STINKS AWARD


A lot of folks were seriously injured in Sedona recently. Three of them are dead.

James Arthur Ray was holding a "Spiritual Warrior" event which included a poorly managed sweat lodge exercise.

Mr. Ray seems to be able to manage himself rather well. Fees for the event reached $10,000.00 according to published accounts. His web site (click here) is a slick bit of self promotion. Scroll down to the "Continue Here" button on the bottom of his page to see a video of him explaining his philosophy, such as it is. The guiding principal seems to be "Harmonic Wealth....Attract the Life You Want".

According to Mr. Ray, he will ...."show you 6 Laws of the Universe that will help you rise above all external circumstances". Really? That seems to be information that the general population would have keyed in on by now. How does something that universally beneficial remain a mystery to all but Mr. Ray? And why is the news only available to those in an altered state?

Three things about all this make me very, very angry. The first is, obviously, the loss of life. The second is that it does a disservice to the residents of Sedona by picturing the area in a negative light. And the third is that by misusing the term "warrior" and holding an event in a "sweat lodge" Mr. Ray insults the native culture to whom these honorable terms and traditions rightly belong.

Sedona and its environs are hypnotically beautiful settings. It is a truly breathtaking piece of Arizona real estate in a state that has stunning vistas in abundance. The area has long attracted those interested in crystals and vortexes and New Age ideas. Although I would not choose to follow the proponents of these principals, its a choice I make for myself. Whatever paths others choose, to whatever enlightenment they seek, is entirely up to them. Yet I am fairly certain of one thing.

No one chose to die.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRAD!!

BRAD IS 39 YEARS OLD!!!!!

Lets all sing "Happy Birthday" to him...(click here)

XO XO XO Mom

NAKED MEN HOLDING UP HEAVY THINGS


I'm not a prude, lets get that straight right up front. But, on my first trip to Las Vegas last week, I saw more "t and a" than Hugh Hefner on a busy day. Sure, sex is what the city is all about, that and money. But, when the ceiling starts dripping breasts, enough is enough. When I had to duck to avoid running into them, I knew I had to even the score.




Lest you think I exaggerate, here is the lady in
question. Pretty gal, probably more modest than
she is allowed to be here. Obviously, this is Cleopatra and I'm sure Anthony appreciated her attributes, but I'm guessing it took more than a nice set to hold an empire together.

And, if she used feminine wiles to win her man and protect her throne...well, a gals got to do what a gals got to do.




The boys from the Big Apple look pretty good from afar, very afar. Trouble is, they are pretty much above it all.

Not much chance to get acquainted when you are keeping time for the city.

And whats with that hook on a staff thing anyway? Kinky stuff.





Aww........he looks kinda shy doesn't he? Not ready to show off yet.

Just hiding behind a tree, peering at the world. Not exactly an eye catcher, but maybe he will grow into it.

Of course, we don't have time to wait around for that. I'll check on him next year.









Oh....I know, I know! Don't tell me.

ATLAS! Didn't know they were twins. But three could be fun.

Wonder who holds up the world when they want to take a break? Looks like a really heavy job.

I'm not sure they could lighten up and just enjoy a drink. Maybe a show. Nah.







Wait a minute! Is this guy Atlas or an
impersonator? Vegas is full of those
people - what you see is what you
get, sort of.

He is not holding up the world, more like a big boulder. There is that curly hair. Maybe Sampson?

He looks pretty buff, but he is, you know, blue! Not sure I could get interested in a blue guy.

And, he looks busy.






Whoa!

This is a possibility. Look at those muscles. And that hair. Very nice.

Wait a minute. Whats that stuff on his thighs? Little pieces of ..........
pigeon poop!!!!

Well, yuck. This guy needs a shower.








Hmmmm.

Nice body, but not too muscled. The hair and beard could use some shaping.

He brought a blanket. That is very, very thoughtful.

But, the, a, credentials are a bit weak.

Nope, I want a refund.






Las Vegas is a lot to take in over just a few days. And a few days is all you can take at a time. It is an intense "in your face" city. There is no subtlety here. It is after your money. With my luck, casinos ought to have drive through windows so that I can just get it over with. Thats OK. I won't lose more than I consider the price of a nights entertainment. I have more to say about my trip, so stay tuned. I'm not crazy about the place.

But then, I'm not a gambler either.

ASHES AND SNOW

PHOTO BY GEOFFREY COLBERT

Some, very few, gifted artists have the ability to stop you dead in your tracks and leave you so stunned you forget that time exists. I am in awe of such creative genius, the sort that can lift you up and transport you to a whole other plane of perception. It is otherworldly, like seeing through a fourth dimension.

Using a layered presentation of photographs, journals and poetic, hauntingly beautiful voices, Mr. Colbert paints a picture of possibility, of what can exist between us and the animals that share our planet.

See for yourself here. Its like being let in on the most incredible secret, as if Mr. Colbert took my hand, then placed his index finger across his lips to quiet me and said..."Let me show you something wondrous."

Prepare to be astonished. I will claim this gift when the installation opens again. Maybe I'll see you there.

HOLY CRAP!

OK, OK, I'll take a couple dozen cases.

From my friend Gerri, who is out to save the world, one cookie at a time. Whatever it takes.

Women’s Aid Organizations from Half the Sky

Women’s Aid Organizations from Half the Sky

See the faces of hope here.

Please take a moment to use the two links above and see how these organizations are helping women around the world to help themselves. While there, scroll down to see what the Washington Post book reviews and others are saying.

This link is provided by the publisher, Alfred P. Knopf, in conjunction with the release of "Half the Sky", one of the most important books of our generation. I hope you will add it to your reading list as soon as possible.

All women, at one time or another, have been at the least marginalized and at the worst, murdered. We all have benefited from a lifetime of sisterhood linking us to those who provide a helping hand; from a mother, a sister, a girlfriend, a teacher, or to an organization that through our combined solidarity, moves us forward.

Incredibly brave and resilient women who have survived the most unimaginable cruelty need our help. Please stand up and be counted so that our sisters can stand as well. They will never break the chain or abuse this trust. Their lives depend on it.

This post is Arizona Sky Blue - the same sky that covers and connects us all. Under it's canopy, all our futures are interwoven.

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

Johnson and Perkins "Antigua" Rose

This is my favorite rose of all time. It was a gift, almost fifteen years ago. The buds are a deep pink color that top long, sturdy branches. It seems so small then, hardly capable of the show to come. As it begins to open, the petals reveal a lighter shade of pink with a hint of lightest yellow. These two colors then combine to form the most gorgeous shrimp color that lightens as it approaches the center which is the brightest sunny yellow. Just like a new day dawning, it fills my hand to overflowing. I have always thought of this rose as a long stemmed sunrise. Nothing, I thought, would be this beautiful in the desert. Its just too dry, too hot, for this sort of delicate, ethereal beauty to exist.

Was I ever wrong. Meet a rose of the desert.

Rainbow Cactus Variety - Strawberry Hedgehog

This photo has not been enhanced in any way. It is almost unbelievable as it is. Like a fireworks display, this rose begins immediately with an "in your face" intensity that defies belief, amazes you for what seems like an instant, and then is gone. It's petal shapes appear still wet and newly formed, sculpted from the purest pools of color. It is like the brilliant last hurrah of a sunset, the light infused sun's palette brimming with all the saturation it can muster.

Like a sunrise or a sunset, both beginnings and endings hold the promise of tomorrow.

TO GO WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE


Here's a clue. It's not space.

Oh, the joys of medical screening. Medicine is all about prevention, and that is a good thing. We really are living longer because of it and that is a very good thing. So, I was a little puffed up recently from being responsible and going through all those poke and prod tests, as I do every year, and passing with flying colors. Then my Doc said it was time for a colonoscopy and he handed me a prep list for the day before the procedure. Right after I said, "you're going to put what...where?!".

This is one of those ideas that sound a lot better in principle than in practice.

I decided to stop at the pharmacy for the prep supplies before heading home, just to get used to the idea.

It didn't work.

I felt like Alice, getting smaller and smaller until I could barely see the top of the counter. Can a person actually get all that inside?

Two 32 ounce bottles of Gatorade is one whole GALLON! A G.A.L.L.O.N. I don't like Gatorade, let alone with a bottle of thick, slick goo in it. And, it has to go down in two hours! That is 8 ounces every 15 minutes. Not exactly sippin' speed. But before we start in on all that liquid, there is the Ducolax to get down.

Five of them. At one time.

Now, that is exactly what I would do to a terrorist. It was shaping up to be one explosive evening; I could become airborne. And so it began. Take the pills and wait two hours. Just to pass the time, I began to mix the Gatorade and white powder. But, WAIT! The Gatorade is red and I can't drink anything red! I have to drive to the corner pharmacy. Oh, no,....no, no...... not a good idea. I just downed 5 Ducolax. Ho. Leee. Shit. But, I do it. Ran in, grabbed the Gatorade, slapped cash down on the counter, looked impatient, a little crazed....told the woman to take the money...take the money.....TAKE THE MONEY!!!!!!!!

So now its time for the Gatorade. And more Gatorade.......eeeewwwww. And then, nothing. I'm getting nothing. Walking, walking, bending, walking...nothing. Really, can this stuff turn to cement? Nothing. I'm getting worried, wondering if I should call the.....WHOA....SOMETHING!!!! I have to say, sneezing fits in the most inappropriate of places is unsettling and remained that way for some time. For quite a long, long, time.

I arrived at the Doctor's office early and was processed in record time. All the nurses were smiling and asking questions and being ever so sweet. Of course, they can afford to be; they have the power. Somewhere, behind the brightly painted walls, a thing was lurking. THAT thing was waiting. That big LONG thing. I turned over on my side and waited, then saw..........my friend? She was asking if I needed help getting dressed. Huh? I remember nothing, but among the things I do not remember are conversations I was reported to have had.

Maybe, and maybe Susan's just messing with me. She does that.

.........................................................................................................

OK, I've had some fun with this, but here's the bottom line (excuse the pun). There are no guarantees out there. If you can improve your odds significantly, why wouldn't you?

(What happened above was a head game that I did to myself. The Gatorade wasn't bad, the MiraLax is not slimy, and the Ducolax was not a problem. Things take a while to pass though, so start early. The Doc was fabulous, I don't remember a thing. And nothing hurt. Honestly.)

HOOP DANCING



The Heard Museum in Phoenix tells the story of American Indian cultures, with an emphasis on the Southwest, using it's beautifully displayed collection as a window into another world. Throughout the museum's galleries, pedestals with headphones provide oral histories and narratives to place the items in context. Detailed descriptions of how pieces were created illustrate the enormous talent and creativity of the Native Peoples. This signature collection contains both artifacts and current pieces by artisans working today in silver, turquoise, basketry, pottery, bead work and textiles as well as Barry Goldwater's Kachina Dolls gift. All are displayed with the Heard's unmatchable grace and style. See it here.


The real action, however, takes place on the front lawn. Every year, the Heard hosts the World Championship Hoop Dancing Competition, bringing together many tribes and age groups performing one of the living traditions of their Native culture. These images are from the 2007 Competition. Hoops are made from plastic tubing wrapped to match the dancer's costume, which incorporates local color and design. The hoops are small, no larger than 30", and are symbolic, telling us that life is a never ending circle, with no beginning and no end. Hoop dancing is a form of Native American storytelling in which a solo dancer forms animal shapes such as a snake, eagle or coyote, and ending with the shape of the world using many hoops over the body to show that all life is interconnected.


These performances require superior athleticism and skill. The dancers use as many as 30 hoops that connect along their arms and legs to form wings or tails. All the while, they execute intricate footsteps in sync to the beat of many drums and chanting voices that speed towards an ending crescendo where the dancer is a blur of color and movement. It is absolutely mesmerizing. A recent Hoop Dancing Champion, Dallas Chief Eagle, a Lakota Sioux whose signature dance is called "Nurturing the Tree of Life" can be seen here. Another proponent of his Native culture, Kevin Locke can be seen at www.kevinlocke.com and also here dancing.

As the dancers move, their faces shine with pure joy. It is a sight to behold.