jbmetz

The Rose

In my psychotic haze I stroll peacefully along the beach, when a oddly placed rose speaks as I pass by:

"I have a story to tell you."

"I can't, I don't have the time-- no, rather, I don't have the energy."

"No, please listen."

 

"My deep red color is the color of raw passion.

Cast gently by a the couple on a cruise ship.  A couple whose eyes sparkled with chemistry for one another,

A promise washed ashore amidst kelp, sand & salt.

My pedals are still soft & passionately red, though quickly wilting, becoming no more than beach trash,

Indistinquisable from the seaweed and ocean refuse; the frigid ocean waters quelling the heat of  passion.

This is my beautiful but dying moment.

 

Please, it takes little more than a picture & prose to freeze me in the moment & immortalize the passion."

As often happens, I awake in the middle of the night with my cat, Beare, on my chest.

This time, she begins by telling me, "I've been reading Nietzsche.  He is hot & cold, so you have to take him with a grain of salt, so to speak".

 

"Cats can't read."

 

"I know, I know.   They can't talk either.  Find yourself a good psychoanalyst and tell them your cat talks to you.  Remember David Berkowitz?  An opposable thumb is overrated."

 

 

"Well, you sort of left it out there."

 

"I don't remember leaving Nietzsche laying about, but it will go into the next used-book sale for the shelter."

 

"Well, Nietzsche said, 'In truth, there was only one Christian, and he died on the cross.'"

 

"Well, that may be true (depending on how you define 'Christian'), but there are a lot of very good people that use Christ in their life as role model when making decisions.  The average 'Christian' will not raise the dead, heal the sick, or feed thousands with a a couple of loaves & fishes."  So what does Nietzsche say about their efforts of faith?"

 

"Yes.  That's a tough one.  But he also said, 'A casual stroll through a lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.'  When, in fact, many outside the asylum have demonstrated that faith can move mountains."  "In general, I'm afraid I must discard his ramblings."  "I know.  You just want to go back to sleep." 

 

"I am not nocturnal.  And I've never been a big Nietzshe fan.  Though modern philosophy would be lacking something without him."

 

"Oh.  Ambien is wearing off, is it?  You're starting to engange me in a conversation."

 

"No.  You figure out how much validity you want to give him -- just as the rest of us do.  I'm going to sleep now."

 

"Well, I will leave you with this last thought, courtesy of Mark Twain: 'If man could be crossed with the cat, it would improve man but deteriorate the cat.' "

So I wake up in the middle of the night to find my cat reclining on my chest with it's nose about two inches from my face (I'm getting tickled by wiskers at that distance).  Since it knows it has a captive audience (i.e. I can't change the channel), it begins to ponificate:

 

"Understanding people is an art that cannot truely come to fruition without enganging in conversation."

 

"I'd like to get back to sleep."

 

She continues, "The art within the art, is the ability to effectively listen.  This may seem easy, but it takes a lot  of energy.  I've seen you answer the phone & you don't stop to differeniate mindless babble from a friend with a genuine problem looking for advice.  You give them your full attention."

 

"Or I tell them I'll call them back in the morning.  I'm not a good 'phone talker'.  I do much better chatting over a cocktail where you can make eye-contact and carry on a meaningful rapport."

 

"But you listen nonetheless."

 

"Okay.  I want to go back to sleep.  What's your point?"

 

"My point is this:  if you don't understand a person (and I don't mean just linquistically), you are headed for trouble.  If you don't understand this, you will never make a good statesman or ambassador".

 

"Wonderful, it's past midnight and I will avoid professions such as abassador."

 

"Sleep on it."

 

I'm not sure why I keep this cat around.

 

 

So, I was reading the year-end issue of Sports Illustrated and came upon an article entitled "You Can't Make this Stuff up".  It recapped some very odd and awkward moments in sports for 2008.  Anyway, a restaurant in Beijing, in preparation for the Olympic games, wanted to cater to English-speaking visitors by hanging the restaurant name in English.  They got a little help from an online translator.  They proudly hung the sign, "Translate Server Error".

 

You can't make this stuff up.

 

So, I ordered a neoprene mask for weather protection when I'm on the scooter or moped.  The description was vague and the picture even worse, but the price was right. So, my big mistake was opening this in front of my most annoying (but lovable) cat.

 

"Oh, gearing up for Dia de los Muertos, eh?"  I had to laugh.  She was right this time.  "You only have 10 months to go...no wonder you scored a great deal."

 

"It looks like a joke, you are never going to really ride with that are you?  You might be mistaken for a Luchador."  The cat knows that I like watching Lucha Libre so that was a barb.  What I like about Lucha Libre, it that it breaks down the wrestlers by weight catagory, so that some of the smaller guys are really very athletic.  Much more entertaining than the U.S. counterparts where we have two weight catagories:  Super Heavyweight...and...uh...Super Heavyweight (I think steroids are mandatory).

 

Well, I work in the tech sector where job security is unheard of.  I should have a back-up profession lined up.  Maybe Lucha Libre isn't such a bad idea.  I shared my thoughts with my feline friend & got the usual disgusted indifference.  "You're 52."

"Who will know when I change my name & wear a mask?"

 "Talk to me after your get body-slammed to the matt.  Maybe they can start a seniors' division with a mortician at ringside." 

 

 

So, I needed some help with a Luchador name & found it at the gansta name generator (http://gangstaname.com/) where they have names for Mexican wrestlers as well.  I was raised in the California public school system, which means I have two years of elementary Spanish.  When I have gone to Mexico, I have found that "Cerveza fria, por favor" got me what I needed 90% of the time (no, they didn't teach me that in school).

 

So the name generator tells you to type your name in & it will give you your lucha libre name.  So, I typed in Joseph B. Metz.  It came back with "Turbo Muerto".  Oooh.  Sounded cool...macho.  Like "quick death".  Well, the machine translator came up with "I disturb dead person".  Great.  Lost someting in the translation.  So I tried Joe Metz and it came back with "Chile Violente".  One on-line translator gave me "Chilie Violate you".  That didn't cut it either.  So, I finally tried my full name, Joseph Bernay Metz and it came back with "Rey de la Noche".  Most of the translators on-line agreed this is "King of the Night".  Just sounds too noble.

 

So, I go back to the first option (Turbo Muerto).  There are several websites that will conjugate Spanish verbs for you, so it quickly becomes obvious that "turbo" is the first-person (singular) present for the infinitive "turbar", "to disturb".  So how about "Turbo los Muertos"?  I think that would be, "I disturb the dead".  But the on-line translators aren't any help at all.  It's a shot in the dark.  Obviously, the machines have their limitations.  Good Luck.

You know I & the wife lost a depressing about from our portfolio this last week.

 

So I have to set about trying to recover the 3 years of good retirement.  You know, the kind of years travel & see new places or look-up old faces.  Well I have an idea.  It will be a web-based service:

 

 

I will use the money to down to BevMo and fill-up with all the cheap, gut-rot swill in large bottles where I will get excellent quantities at excellent prices.  I will stop by the food line & share my "good forture" until one the Padres beats me away with an ugly stick.  I should have enough to get the lightrail back to Folsom.

 

As the concept grows past the "grass roots level", I can start shoveling money into an FDIC Insured accout.  It will take time.  But is clear that I have plenty of working years ahead of me.  And this system insures that things will be quiet & safe on the streets (at least in Alkalai Flat).

 

Let's see, I need a Mission Statement and a Vision.  I'll work on it.  And I'm open to suggestions.  The goal: to raise enough money to fill a bank account with $250K  insured in a time CD.

I have to buy that domain name.

So, I turned 52 today.  I had the day off as vacation, but I've been sick with a chest cold all weekend.  I sat here watching a no-win scenario play out on the national stage.  Congress voted against the dreaded $700 billion banking bail-out.  While this was probably the ethical thing to do, I watched my portfolio plunge, trying to stay composed.  The largest point drop in history for the Dow Jones. 

 

My wife took me out to lunch and I indulged myselt with delicious & decadent BLT with avacado.  I found that after the closing-bell rang on Wall Street, that both my wife (and my pets) still love me.  Hard to put a price on that.