Month: March 2020

“Its mind over matter” they told me in school….

“If you don’t mind, it don’t matter….”.

But, if nothing matters, what’s the point in even living?

If goodness does not matter, then what’s the point in existing? And love?

If love doesn’t matter, then we are all simply empty husks being blown by the winds of chaos.

But, I DO care…so things do matter. The right things. The proper things. The logical things. The things that may be hard, but that matter for the good of ALL mankind.

Not just a select few who think they matter the most because they have accumulated more strips of green paper (some call it money…cash…riches) than everyone else.

Green paper won’t protect you from everything. There’s a solution for that, and the solution is simple.

It’s mind over matter.

We have been given a great gift, whether by luck or on purpose, depending on your belief system. In either case, it is a wonder and a miracle. It is our life here on this wonderful planet.

Out of all of the stars in the sky at night….the millions and billions, our star…the Sun, Sol… sustains this third planet from the sun and we live here in relative comfort.

Out of all the species on Earth, we humans have become the dominant life form.

I think we fail to realize sometimes that the resources here on our planet are finite, not unlimited as we seem to think. One day, all of the things we take for granted will run out. Chief amongst them in rank of importance would be air to breathe, water and food.

I don’t know how quickly things are becoming critical, but it seems to be happening faster than many scientists have anticipated. I’m not sure how severe things will become in my lifetime, but certainly the next couple of generations will see changes that will require major adjustments.

It is to that end that I am concerned with issues involving our environment. I think it would be to our advantage, for the sake of our descendants, that we all be concerned, and do what we can to preserve a world on which those descendants can live.

My generation has been the luckiest and most fortunate of almost any which have come before, as far as the manner in which we have been able to live. I feel ashamed personally for not having had the foresight and the resolve to be more careful about what we have been doing to our world. I’ve been on “cruise control” just sailing along and not thinking of anything much other than my own immediate needs and those of my close family.

If indeed God did create us, and give us a caretakers role for the Earth, we haven’t done well. I hope future generations will do better, and I’m trying to help them what little I can while I’m still around. We all should. We owe it to the future residents of this wonderful planet.

….but yet there are ones so young that they believe they can overcome the darkness and build a place of light for all of us to dwell. A future of hope wrapped up in their innocence, without futility in their nature. No cynicism walling up their ideas of a new paradigm for humanity.

And if the world is turned over to them, we will have fewer worries. The dreams they dream will be of tomorrows in space exploring the universe, and problems here on Earth boiled down to mathematical formulas and solved.

There will be no violence and no war. There will be no racial hatred and religious killing. Police officers will again become peace officers.

There will be paper made of hemp for all of us to write upon….and the soft, sweet smell of ganja drifting on the breeze from the joints of the old people in pain, who will be smoking them to relieve the pain in their joints….

Can you dig it?

I can’t get the thought out of my mind that we are all the same. We are sparks of life embedded in many different flesh and blood houses, and when the spark goes out in the house, it will never reassume a place in the “physical” world again. Perhaps I’m wrong, but that’s what I believe.

“We are neither Jew nor Greek, bonded nor free, there is neither male nor female…..” so begins Galations 3:28 “for you are all one in Jesus Christ”

“Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” says Buddha…

So that when that one light from the single candle is extinguised, it lives on in others…but only in shared happiness, not hatred, never in hatred, because that which is darkness cannot become light.

I guess I could say: “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” – Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

…and in our human experience we should try to make lives better for those around us taking that same journey, even those human beings whose spirit is evidentally not of a good nature. And there are many. I don’t understand the purpose behind the existence of those two opposing natures but I know there is a purpose.

I feel that in the nature of the existence of the Universe, no matter what your individual belief, good will endure in some way over evil.

By Larry Bowers

On a Mountaintop

I wish I lived on a mountain top, so I could see the stars more clearly,
I wouldn’t mind the cold wind, or the thin air.
It would be well worth an extra cloak to be closer
..to their persistent and lasting beauty.
It would be worth exhaling an extra breath of steamy warm air
…into the cold, still night
..to be able to almost reach out and tickle the moon.
Somewhere on a mountain top. There’s a million stars waiting.

I hope to God I find it someday

Larry Bowers.

As I watched the planes circling Atlanta in their super high holding pattern tonight, I thought about what a perfect delivery system for people we have developed. For people and their own personal retinue of germs and viruses we all carry with us.

I thought about flights originating from Seattle/Tacoma airport and found: Spirit Airline -nonstop to Dallas Ft Worth and Chicago O’Hare, Alaska airlines to Pittsburgh, Delta to Indianapolis, St. Louis, Kansas City, and New Orleans, and Frontier to Austin Texas. These are flights originating there and going to these cities.

In Kirkland Washington 25 residents and 25 staff are being tested for a probable outbreak from Covid19 virus. That’s about 18 miles from the airport. Also, a high school student 18 miles from the nursing home tested positive for the virus. Unfortunately, he had been allowed to go back to school before they learned he had it. As the head of the CDC said, it’s not a matter of if but when.

What makes it even more difficult is the 27.5 million people in the country who have no insurance. Many of them are liable to not even go to a doctor if their symptoms are mild, meaning they are more likely to spread the virus to people who may become seriously ill.

There are a lot of unknowns left to figure out in this crisis, but unfortunately our medical system in America is ill equipped to handle anything even resembling a pandemic. Our medical and hospital resources have already been stretched this year by an inordinately severe flu outbreak.

It would have been nice if the CDC task force for infectious disease had not been fired, and the CDC’s funding severely curtailed. I really believe the money would have been much better spent on those facilities, then on a border wall.

We will have to wait and see what develops, but those planes keep flying even now, and I know there’s nobody yet where they are debarking with a thermometer to check temperatures. There will be though before too long, I think.

I’m not writing this to panic anyone. There’s no need for panic, but every need for precaution and preparation.

Fishing. I’ve spent a lot of time when I was little going fishing. Most of the time it was with my Dad. I have to admit that I never really “had it in my blood” like Dad did. I loved it when they were biting. Nothing beats the feel of throwing that line out there and letting it sit…and then when that stopper on the top of the pond starts to bob. The blood pressure goes up a little, your heart beats faster and you start to hold your breath. Then when it disappears all the way under, BOOM…you snatch that line back and hook ‘em good! I was a slow learner at first. I had a hard time waiting until that stopper went all the way under. I wanted to snatch it up and pull just as soon as the stopper started moving. I have missed many a “bait stealing” little bream by being impatient. Dad taught me to be patient when it came to fishing.

I remember going to a little pond somewhere down in Gore about 1960 to fish. Can’t remember who owned it, just a little ways out the road to the left after making a left hand turn there at Ballenger’s. I was fishing with worms trying to catch some Bream and Daddy was Bass fishing with a “shyster” lure. I had caught one and wanted to show him, so I ran up behind him with my fish on the line just as he was about to make a cast. The “shyster” caught me in the left earlobe on Dad’s follow through and one of the barbed hooks went right through my earlobe. The look on Dad’s face was one of surprise and shock and horror all at once. Needless to say, our fishing trip for that day was over with. I think we went back to old Doc Clemens up at the old hospital, and he actually used a pair of wire cutters to just cut the barbed end off and pull the other end through my earlobe. It really wasn’t as painful as it looked. I never walked behind my Dad again when he was casting! I know he felt bad about it, even though it was my fault he kept telling me he was sorry.

But there were lot’s of other times that the results were better. Many days of catching Crappie down at Lake Weiss with leadheads. We would put two leadheads on at a time when they were biting hard and sometimes we would hook two at the same time! Daddy would whoop and holler and you could hear him all the way to Centre. I have photo’s of him with stringers full of those fish, and boy were they tasty! It was a yearly ritual every spring as to when the Crappie would start biting! Ahh yes those were the days. We didn’t own a boat, so we would put on a pair of waders and wade out chest deep in that cold water so we could cast out as far into the lake as possible. I know I about drowned a couple of times when I would fall or trip and the lake water would fill those dang waders up. Daddy would just laugh at me.

One fishing highlight was in 1966. It was the first time I EVER went to Florida. We went with the Browns and I think my cousin Judy came along. We went DEEP SEA FISHING! It was in August and I was getting close to 16, but looked a little older. I was more interested in girls at that time than in fishing but couldn’t resist the lure of going out on the Ocean and trying to catch a “big ‘un” We went out on a chartered boat…Captain “somebody” or another. Before we left, everyone kicked in a couple bucks for the lucky person who caught the biggest fish. Dad kicked in a couple for him and me. The ride out there was great for me, as I wasn’t prone to motion sickness. I met a little old girl and Mikey got seasick. Everything was cool, and I was wanting to spend more time with the girl than fish but Daddy set me straight: “I paid for you to fish, so get your ass out here and fish!” Well I did, and the first bait I sent down got me a bite. It was an electric reel which we had rented, so I pushed the button and pulled. I thought I had snagged somebody else’s line…the dang thing wouldn’t come. I kept pulling and pulling and finally this giant fish head hit the surface. Jeez, I though I had a whale! Turned out it was a 33 lb Red Grouper, which ended up netting me 44 dollars for the biggest fish of the trip! I was rich! It was a good and a bad trip….Mom and Dad fought…and there were roaches in the motel. But, it was memorable.

I have said all this to get to this point. Dad probably went fishing for the last time about 2007. I think he and Uncle Frankie went over to Billy Locklear’s lake and caught a few bream. Dad’s health started getting bad about then and he couldn’t got by himself anymore. Too many car wrecks had happened and there was a danger of dizziness and black outs. Dad kept asking me about going fishing, but I was on the night shift working 12 hour swing shifts and rarely if ever felt like doing anything but sleeping. Dad and Mom got to where they couldn’t take care of themselves and we decided that Assisted Living was the only choice for their care. Dad kept after me though: “When you gonna take me fishing?” he would ask “When it warms up good Dad” says I.

In April of 2010, Dad was feeling pretty good. I was on the 2nd shift then and still not feeling good, and not sleeping good. Dad asked me again “When we going fishing, son?” I promised him we would in a couple of weeks. “We’ll go down at Sloppy Floyd’s” I said. “You can sit up there on the walkway in the wheelchair if you have to and fish from there” I remember those exact words. I meant it. But April moved on into May..and we didn’t go.

On May 21st, they called me at work from the “Cozy Manor” and told me Dad was sick. He had been bleeding and having lots of stomach problems. I called the 3rd shift supervisor and asked if he would come in a little early so I could go check on my Dad. He came in an hour early…wow a lot of help. I went to LaFayette and Dad was sleeping. I asked him how he felt and he said “ok, but I would like a drink of cold water” I brought him one and asked him if he wanted me to stay. It was 1:30 or so in the morning. “You go on home and rest, and come back in the morning” he said. He woke me up at about 7 am the next morning and said he was hurting in the chest…and then he said “Can’t breath good” and it sounded like he dropped the phone. By the time I got there, my Dad was dead.

Guilt comes in a lot of sizes. Small, medium and Extra Large. My guilt for not staying that night goes beyond extra large. It’s hard to describe still. It’s like swallowing a rock and having it sit down there in the pit of your stomach all the time. You forget it’s there sometimes, but at other times it just eats you from the inside out.

I was going to wait until May to reminisce about fishing and my Dad. But, I picked this “special” day which happens only once every four years. It’s an extra day on our calendar and it represents that extra day which I wish I would have had with Dad. I wish that extra day would have been the one day that I had taken him fishing. That day which I had promised him. That promise which I didn’t keep…. I pray that if there is a pond or a lake between Earth and Heaven that when I die that God will let me go with Dad out on that little body of water and try and catch a couple of bass. I owe it to him.