Wait! I'm not ready yet! I'm still thinking!

Real friends? Why not?

Let me put it this way. I have had friends, girlfriends, drinking buddies, best friends, Marine Corps buddies, casual friends and any other manner of friends describable.

It makes no difference what bar a guy walks into, or what job he takes, or what organization he belongs to, or what girl he meets, the chance of developing lasting friendships is sort of rare. Golf buddies? (Bad example, since I do not golf and shoot me if I ever want to.) Friends to go to Minnesota Twins or Vikings games together with? Easy to find, but usually pretty shallow types for anything beyond rah, rah. (Maybe it is different between women.)

I have casual friends coming out of my ears; no current girlfriends (do not want one in that simple sense) and I am beyond the bar buddy stage for more than two or three drinks after work. (He says as he stands and shouts, "Valhalla!" and is pushed back into the corner of the booth by his bar buddies.)

Among my best friends "ever," two out of three are dead, one cancer and one suicide. The cancer victim was a woman about 20 years older than me, not beautiful, but wise and intelligent beyond belief. (That means smarter than me.) The suicide was a man six months older than me. (My boss, but I was his crutch. He had the charm; I had the backbone.) That leaves me with a photographer, and you know how they are, sort of weird. Besides, he lives a bit from here.

Among Marine Corps friends, only one who was really close who is still alive. He lives a bit from here, too, mostly fishes and has his disability check, which keeps him happy. (I am not certain he even ever has read a book, but he sure can fish, and there is more to explain here than can be simply done.)

What I am saying is that there is magic in more ways than one. (And, you might not ever hear me say it again.) Possibly, the internet actually will be a road to friendships not otherwise achievable in the past. I have seen others write much the same sentiment here, people who are thinking the same thing. I am not saying, do not take care. Never completely trust until the eyes meet (and maybe not even then), but never fear to explore or to dance. Am I wrong here?

By the way, I really am cheating. I wrote this about 20 hours ago, but I am just now putting it on my page because I am not sure if I am finished or if I want to say more. Oh, well, there always is tomorrow ....

One more run at turning left instead of right ....

When I joined the Marine Corps, I already literally had been within minutes of joining the Air Force. Had not a holiday delayed a flight to "haul me away," I would have gone USAF instead of USMC. But, the delay happened and, during the intervening few days, I decided on the Marines. I could do only one. If possible, I would have liked to have had the experience of being an 18-year-old in both services. I would have liked to have done this not to find out if one experience would have been better than the other, but simply to gain knowledge from the experience of having done both. To know.

If it were possible to do both experiences, one almost certainly would have proven to be better or worse than (preferable to) the other, but that is not the object of my thought, and does not even matter at all. The only purpose would be to have had the experiences.

Of course, in reality, unless there is another me in a parallel universe doing exactly the opposite of what I am doing and we are able to meet up and to compare notes, the exercise is one of futility for anything other than stirring the imagination. Stir, mix, bubble, boil, toil and trouble ....

More things & more, more things ....

Have you ever looked down and noticed both your shoe laces were untied? I do not know about you, but that is when I went to cowboy boots pretty much full time.

At least twice a week, I do not want to sleep. It is not insomnia; it is not wanting to sleep. I am so anxious for summer that I want to be awake until it comes. I suppose it would be wiser to stay awake after it comes rather than now.

Someone asked me some time ago why I quit hunting, and I never answered. I do know why. I know when, almost to the minute. I just am not certain how I want to explain it or if I want to explain it. Sooner or later, I suppose it will come.

Someone recently said she was looking forward to watching my Plan A as it evolves. Actually, I think Part 2 might already be written, but I cannot be absolutely certain, so it is premature to publish it. And, Part 3 definitely remains a mystery because the future cannot be known -- or can it?

Did anyone who read yesterday's commentary about Lawrence Durrell notice that "the course of his career changed" when he moved to Corfu, Greece? Hint, hint. Maybe travel Greece, maybe settle (for a while) between there and Valencia. Follow the example of your elders should you wish to .... wish to what? Sure would have liked to have been able to interview Lawrence Durrell and his brethren.

Almost forgot. Beware the Ides of March ....

Music Note: Listening to classic rock on the radio ....
Heard me say that before?
Playing this instant: ZZ Top and "Legs"

Lost some place between poetry, love and bar stools ....

A couple of days ago, I mentioned the "Sanctuary/Refuge" that once was mine but no longer is. This view of the countryside was taken from the deck of the house. My photography is for illustrative purposes and not designed to be "pretty," so please don't grade it.

Speaking of photography, and poets, too ....

Of the three best friends I have had in my life, one is a professional photographer. He does take graduation photos and wedding photos, but he derives a large portion of his income from selling photos to publications. He doesn't travel far and wide to take his photos, either. His range generally is about 200 miles from his home. He asks what I consider to be a ridiculous amount of money for his "snapshots" and, more often than not, he gets it.

Applying that concept to the "world of blogs," I see several photographers who have followers, but rarely see many (if any) followers associated with the bloggers who are offering poetry.

The difference between being an "average" photographer and a "good" photographer is, in my opinion, a short leap and mostly a technological leap, ranging from cameras and lens to darkrooms and computers. Sure, a good eye is required, but basically a bit of practice and quality gear can turn most people into excellent photographers.

The same is not true for a poet. Everything that has anything to do with being a poet comes from inside the person. Technology has nothing to do with it. This is why poets, so often the unappreciated and the unpaid, should be among the people who are appreciated (and, perhaps, valued) the most, I think.

This is not to detract from photography. Rather, it is to suggest we all might benefit from reading more poetry, thinking about those written words created from the depths of human psyche, and applauding the people who create them.

Friends & lovers, outside of marriage ....

I think it was Ernest Hemingway who said (or wrote) words to the effect that a man and a woman could not be friends without becoming lovers, as well. In high school, I was a Hemingway worshipper but, in expressing that notion, I believe old Ernie clearly was incorrect. (By the time I was in the midst of college, incidentally, I was discovering there were better novelists than he.)

Of the three best friends I mentioned earlier, one was a woman. Our friendship began in a typical way, as work mates, spending hours together most days. We came very close to becoming lovers on more than one occasion. It was something we discussed, also on more than one occasion. We agreed it might wreck our friendship if we became physically entangled as well as emotionally and spiritually so. We both were married to other people at the time, and part of our decision revolved around not wishing to risk hurting them.

We had great fun with our friendship. There were times we would start grappling with each other on bar stools (or another public setting) and then, abruptly, look up, look around, act startled, leap from the stools and run for the entrance. Outside, we would figuratively fall down laughing.

She is gone now. Cancer took her down and forever put her away. Sometimes, I think we made a mistake by not becoming lovers, too. Who is to say? I wonder how often all of us think we are doing the right thing and, unknowingly, we might be doing the wrong thing.

Music Note: Currently listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter ....
Specifically, "Come On Come On" ....
("Passionate Kisses" -- I'm retrospective tonight)