Bitter Almonds

The smell of bitter almonds might portend the flavor of a speedy death.  Cyanide is present in bitter almonds and quite a few other morsels we ingest and it’s many a murder mystery that the detective discovers the scent of over a corpse.  

My life has had that scent waft  stimulate my olfactory nerves. Some I have paid attention to some I have ignored still others I saw as the incentive to move forward against my better judgment and my intuition. Now I listen to the angels that my Higher Power sends each morning I awake because there is no scent only the invisible hand that caresses my shoulder and gives me the direction on my compass. The sense of smell is a powerful aphrodisiac but the hand of God trumps the scent of bitter almonds every time.  

Make that Call

The difference between talking about making that call and making the call lies in the face that  we are stuck in the past and not in the present moment. Resistance is a powerful inhibitor because we would rather stay uncomfortable and in fear than take on the present moment.  Make that call you'll be glad you did!

A Hard Days Night

It was one of my favorite songs as it harkens back to my youth in the eye opening but not very complicated 60’s. When I was home in my bed, all was right with the world as I turned on my Victrola.*  I never had a care and the biggest dilemma facing me was would my mother let me paint my room red. By the way she compromised if you have read me extensively and let me paint one wall in what I thought was my favorite color.  God she was right a red room would have been a nightmare and certainly a Hard Days Night into sleep. 

The Beatles were a phenomena that I listened to on my transistor radio with my mono earplug. And when that movie came out it was the first and only time that the audience (teenage girls) were screaming at a motion picture screen. The writers of that film gave us back a musical comedy not seen since another favorite of mine: Guys and Dolls. Beatlemania though probably rose to a zenith when that lighthearted story hit the silver screen. I was there and history will never be repeated like that again at least not in my lifetime.  

In 1967 Cream had a song called: Born Under a Bad Sign and it typified my thoughts when I wasn’t able to reconcile my undiscovered talent for grey cells in my High School days.  Was it only experience I was lacking or was I just shy waiting to leave my chrysalis?  Probably a bit of both and knowing the answer won’t even give me a pie playing Trivial Pursuit which I was pretty good at if I am any judge. Well that’s not a good response, because I am hardly a good judge of character because in the dictionary the word gullible has my picture right next to the definition.  And those that have judged me usually just read the headlines and forgot the body of the story. But in their defense who has time to read anyway. 

* A Victrola is an antique record player; the sound of the vibrating needle is amplified acoustically.

The Sikh's Embrace

Today I experienced something so singular that it made me realize the world isn’t such a bad place after all. I found myself in the company of nearly 3,000 Sikh’s on the grounds of their temple where they held a carnival like no other I have attended. 

  I am fortunate to have met about a year and a half ago a humble man in one of the exercise clubs that I call my second home.  Over the course of time we befriended each other and in a world of separateness and strong ethnicity he embraced my friendship as I did his. When I was introduced to his family at a festive occasion at his home his relatives took it upon themselves to welcome this vanilla man as if they knew me for years.  A hard workingman from India who wears his humility like a blessing and shares his abundance as openly as only the true heart can beat.  

Maybe it was my imagination or just my wishful thinking but I could swear that on those hallowed grounds something special was brewing.  I was anxious for sustenance and as I reticently approached one of the food stands, to partake in the culinary delights a lovely woman adorned in a colorful sari smiled at me and motioned me closer to sample the offerings. She lit my countenance in return and I felt like I was home. And as I wandered the grounds chatting to anyone and everyone I found that their friendly demeanor rivaled friends I’ve had for many a year. 

My friend reminded me of Marlon Brando in: The Wild One. He wore dark shades and an American Flag bandana and the only thing missing was his motorcycle.  And as he directed the cars onto the temple grounds he took pride in being traffic cop for the day with the same devotion he gives at work, at play, with his family and friends. Just someone I admire and a wonderful model for his son.  He takes pride in everything he does and when he takes you in to his confidence you will have a different meaning as to what a friend is.