The Scary Truth

Ring My Bell

Doorbell, rings…half expecting a friend to drop by, I answer even though in the middle of doing two things. Uggh, it is two people trying to sell me something. I immediately say to myself, don’t look pissed and let them do their job, using every bit of my patience, with the man talking a mile a minute. He says in the beginning of all this, saying he is not trying to sell me anything, doesn’t want any money… just to earn points. But he has nothing in his hand, and I smell a scam. The woman with him is just smiling nervously, saying occasionally, “that’s right!” He is a young and handsome, and she is a little worn on the edges. If I had to guess she was a former drug user, but life has not been too good to her. While he was still talking, I watch her, looking back to him hinting I need to know what you really want. He stops and says, “We are from the projects and just trying to get up in the world and by earning points we can… with your help!” I still don’t quite understand how I am supposed to give him points, and voilà, he reaches in his back pocket to whip out his tattered program. Pointing to my supposed neighbors on his sheets that gave him points, he tells me that by signing up for magazines, I earn him points. I say I really don’t need any more magazines, especially at inflated rates, scanning his list noting they are ones I don’t read. I scan his program pages, looking at the hokey company page. Nothing looks real to me. The whole thing is so round a bout that is totally confusing. Maybe his boss (if he has one) designed it this way if it is real. People will give anything just for them to get out of your face.

So, I say how else can you get points? I really want this to end soon. He tells me you can buy points, and points to a check a neighbor supposedly written in his receipt book, which he kept in his other back pocket. I look at him, and say I really can’t. “We are trying to get out of the projects, and looking for a hand up. You got this house by help,”looking around, he says. I say, “Wait a minute, are you assuming that I am rich and did not work hard for my house? This house did not fall out of the sky for me, and yes, I came from nearly nothing and had a tough life, too. That tactic won’t get you any further, I say to myself. “Well, there is not much I can do for you, I am just not interested and yes, money is tight like you said.” (referring back to the myriad of points he made in his spiel) He got the idea, and then asked me if I have any food for them. I said, “of course,” giving them my last two Clif bars. I wished them well and off they went. e saiHH

Things I Am Grateful For

I am grateful for(not in order):

Having a close and loving family.

Still having a sense of humor even after the shit hits the fan!

A simple hello from a stranger.

A cup of tea while watching the sun rise(see photo).

My partner saying "I love you,"

knowing that when he lives a life of truth.

News reports of someone doing something kind.

(i.e. The autistic kid who saved his teacher)

Having a brain injury, and getting better,

but still disabled enough to be humbled.

My ability to overcome any self pity with

a mental turnaround of a workout or a sit.

Learning Dhamma and applying it in difficult times

to overcome anger.(I'm a work in progress, still not perfect)

The blessings of having my sanity

with a mentally ill family member in mind.

A handful of close friends who understand me.

People and especially dogs notice can sense

when I meditate and the afterglow.

Having a disability that is a quick read

of where people's hearts truly lie.

Carrots in Front of Donkeys Does Not Work

I can't tell you how many times I have heard on the news, the financial giants saying they have to reward their CEO's and talent pool to the extreme...to keep good people working for them. They said they just can't afford to lose the best talent. But we all know the best talent got us into this mess.

Well, here is proof that this reward factor does not work, and this was done by the Federal Reserve Bank, ironically. We just can not afford to make this same mistake twice if we want America to have a future.

Essentially No Fun?

When I went to the monastery to meditate all night, one of the most interesting parts of the dhamma talk I heard that night was an explanation of the value of the precepts. What you do when you take a day off to meditate with the monks, you are really taking the precepts for one day. To live like the arahants do. This voluntary practice allows you to tap into your heart. It is with the recognition that Buddha dhamma has provided some help with your life.


The first five are fairly easy and make sense. Take Number 7 for instance, which is (Nacca-gita-vadita-visukkadassana mala-gandha-vilepana-dharana-mandana-vibhusanathana veramani sikkhapadam samadiyami) I undertake the precept to refrain from dancing, singing, music, going to see entertainments, wearing garlands, using perfumes, and beautifying the body with cosmetics. If you think about it, it means no Ipod, movies, clubs, bling bling, or moisturizer and essentially no fun. This is done to get your mind back under your control, void of external conditions and things(often called distractions), and ease your access to your own peace. If I am looking for a nice tune, great food, a large rock or a splash of wine to be happy, then I am seesawing between happiness, neutral feelings, and unhappiness. Tipping either way depending on whether I like or dislike a particular thing. The thing we love is really not the music, taste, rings, or the views but the place where it takes us in our mind. If I want wisdom, I have jump off this ride to access it. Back to more meditation and the thoughts of where I want to be mentally, using loving compassion with myself. This is not a punishment denying me what I “truly deserve,” from being a medical guinea pig that resulted in my brain injury, but really a natural offshoot of the fact that I survived it. And now, how best can I make the remaining time I have left? In the pursuit of more wisdom seems to be the final frontier for me.

I have to say Many Thanks to the two strangers from Macau that stopped me to ask for a smile when I was wrapped up trying to find a gift for a friend. Not unhappy, but I have to focus on task at hand with this silly brain injury. It is funny, because I bought lip protectant to help to smile more, and chocolate bars to give away on my walk downtown. I was in heaven with the funny conductor on the trolley, smiling a lot, just a few minutes before I ran into these two. Over glasses of wine we covered many topics, but how we as people have so much more in common than not. The others we are so afraid of want the same thing out of life as we do…to be happy.

The Key Never Fooled Me

Mystery only really happens when all the facts are not known. The minute I saw this news story, the DEXTER key looked wrong. It is only for a door lock set and not a padlock to be found on a chest or a similar item. Common sense might finally get me a job. If I am wrong I will gladly take this down. Now, if only we go as crazy looking for a sound mind as we do gold.


“Patty Henken thought she was just buying an antique chair at an auction in New Berlin. She got the chair, all right -- and a hunt for buried treasure in the bargain.

While refurbishing the chair, Patty discovered a slip of paper folded in half inside the horsehair- and straw-stuffed cushion. “Finders Keepers!” was typed on the front. She opened the paper to find a key and a mysterious message.

“This DEXTER key #50644T will unlock a lead chest …” it began. The message went on to describe the place where the chest supposedly was buried and what was inside -- eight $20 gold pieces, six $10 gold pieces, five $5 gold pieces, three $2 1/2 dollar gold pieces and two $1 gold pieces.

The note was signed “Chauncey Wolcott.” ”

—Mysterious note leads to dig for treasure hunt,
DAVE BAKKE, THE STATE JOURNAL-REGISTER

Dave's email reply when I posted this:
Thanks. When we were at the dig that Sunday afternoon, someone suggested that key should be taken to A-1 Lock and have it analyzed. That probably would have shown what you knew, that this sort of Dexter key doesn't go to any type of chest.

I do think it was a nice touch on Slaven's part to tape that key to the note. Gave it a more authentic feel….

We heard today that Ripley's Believe it or Not is going to use this story. Probably -- "Man's Last Practical Joke Sprung 30 Years After His Death!!!!!!!!!"   Believe it or Not. I believe it.

Dave Bakke

Columnist

The State Journal-Register

The Odds of Being

I was fixing the butcher job my contractor did, by sanding and priming today. I thought I might as well do my washers in my shower, after I heard some water noise when I was turning it off. And that usually signals time for a new kit. Patiently, making numerous trips to the hardware store, because the repair kit I bought did not have all the parts I needed. I still have to find one washer that I could not find from two hardware stores. It always takes twice as long as originally planned. But today, I did not let frustration rule.


But all this aside, as it isn’t what came to mind. In the middle of this, I thought what will I be known for after I am gone? It really doesn’t matter how clean your house is, or what kind of car you drove or even how well you could cook. Or even how good the details are on your house.
What seems to matter to me, is how consistent I am and my drive for truth. I sometimes push others to not be vague or flaky. A man of my word, but I am, of course, not without my failings. I know I have a hard time taking compliments and giving thanks in a really heartfelt manner in a few instances. When someone is nice to you, regardless of giving you anything ..it is a signal of where their heart lies. Their intent is not to hurt. They might living compassionate life. Even if they really do not do anything more than being consistent when they see you. By not letting their own frustrations in life, get in the way. There are times when I want to pull them aside and say, “Thanks, for always being consistent, and lending a smile.” Oftentimes, I am embarrassed to say with casual friends, only to read wrong when I would say it. Because with my kind of brain injury, I can’t say meaningful, emotional things with getting teary eyed. It would be so awkward for the other person. I wish in turn I could crack a big old smile, all the time but still hard with some facial paralysis. I do manage to laugh, say “hi” to people a lot, so I am not withdrawn in actions only in appearance. I am still outgoing, and I just want to project the internal happiness and wisdom I found so far. If anything, I will known as having had never given up against incredible odds. With wisdom still in my line of sight.