Sumo In Winter Wonderland


Bill Maher's 60th Birthday Request



So glad Bill Maher is back, in top form too, my world is not the same without his perspective, I missed him these last few months. "The youngest of the old" those in their sixties, outrageous, sometimes too harsh for my taste, but real and on point most often, with a willingness to tolerate differences of opinion. I sure would like to hear Bill Maher pose some real questions to President Obama. So sign on, if you would too.

Sean Penn On El Capo



My first thought on hearing about the second escape of El Capo via a one mile tunnel was that this man's life should be made in to a movie. 
Sean Penn would have to be perfect in the lead role!


I read the whole long darn thing and I am not sure what to make of it all. Sean was preoccupied, understandably, with the integrity of his own body, hence references to his taking a piss, holding his dick and letting out a fart. The man does have balls to venture out in to such unknown territories. 

Sean found a loving family man that likes to think of himself as normal in the ruthless head of a hideous organization. Scary how extreme violence and normalcy can mix. Not surprising the head of the worlds largest drug supply organization believes himself innocent of blame for drug addiction. While demand does fuel supply, innocence is nowhere in sight! Should be no surprise that god too is in the picture. El Capo is supposedly charismatic, hard to notice though in the pics. El Capo, an older man, possibly interested in the legacy he leaves behind? Is it vanity that led to his downfall?

So what does it all mean? Was Sean Penn really responsible for the capture of El Capo? Is Sean's life now in danger? Was this legal? Is this a good, or a very bad article? I have no idea. Surely the timing of Sean Penn's account coming out in Rolling Stone the day of his 5th Haiti fund raiser must have been a great publicity stunt. 

Meanwhile Mexico's economic situation stays the same, impossible, as El Capo said, for men to make a living so they resort to crime or to seeking their luck elsewhere, hence illegal immigration. Why not decriminalize cannabis here in the US and in Mexico? Start the process of breaking down the illegal cultivation and the illegal trade of dope. Make Marijuana legal, the war on drugs has not worked and is not working. One side effect might likely be an increase in availability of hemp clothing with lower prices! I love wearing hemp.

For some added fun check out this post in The New Yorker by the always funny Andy Borowitz that got picked up as real news and retracted here.

Today's Walk With Sumo


Blessed with more snow and a sun that is breaking through, Buddha's cover will not last, it's time for our walk.


Sumo illegally off lead in our Railyard park.


Such a cutie our little Sumo-boy with his snow face as he blends in so nicely.


Sumo loves to sample snow.


Hm, where are those ground squirrels hiding now?


Humongous Green Coyote by Doug Kennel manages to look cute even while covered in snow.



Eric, now a grandfather, so hard at work at clearing access to his Railyard Performance Art Space, he did not even crack a smile for us.


Winter Market vendor not shy at all about having his picture taken.


Our colorful 'hood, love it.


Buddha uncovered by mid-afternoon and laughing, yeah!


Wondrous Spirit

Older man with long, dreadlocked beard in shades of gray was spreading out his bedding over public picnic tables just as the sun broke through for a little bit on a mainly overcast day. Three am snow flurries still covered our 'hood and turned our Railyard in to a pristine looking landscape. 

He refused my offer of an inflatable mattress I happen to have available to give away, but assured me that he was leading a very good life, connected to white wolfs, bears, and rabbits that would spend the night with him. He sings and composes in french and speaks with a lovely accent. He explained that he acts as a kind of messenger between the realms. 

"It's my birthday today" he said "no longer sure" he said "it has been so long, I am an old man now, seventy, sometime in January or February." A lady had been bringing him sweet coffee with cream and soft boiled eggs. Never knowing where he would be at any given time, they may have missed each other of late.

By the time I returned with some goodies, a thermal mug with hot water and a variety of teas, three I hoped still soft boiled eggs, a bit of salt folded in to a napkin, a quickly heated up tortilla with melted goat cheese for consumption, leather gloves and a Pantagonia soft sweatshirt for warmth, this free spirit had already moved on. Next day the nourishment I had left behind on the park bench were gone, while the items for warmth are on hold in hopes for another meeting with this wondrous spirit.

Unsolicited Advice - Grief

The Japanese mother of two teenage daughters that she lost to drowning in our lake took to wearing her daughter's clothing.

My friend in her grief after her Dad's passing ingested a bottle of medication prescribed for the old man. 

I took to smoking my Mom's cigarettes, even though I had given up rolling cigarettes with Drum tobacco in my teens after a humiliating introduction to asanas, an aspect of yoga. 

I took to drinking my Mom's coffee, even though I had given up coffee decades ago because I drank too many refills with too much sugar when I lived in New York City on very little income in my twenties. 

I took to playing Patience with my Mom's cards after her unexpected passing, just like she did, with coffee near, cigarette in one hand, pen stuck behind one ear, crossword puzzle near, while I was in the process of having to dissolve my parent's household. I neglected to collect my Mom's set of old, funky cards and ended up having to buy a new set with which I played my own version of Solitaire for hours in to the early mornings - for several years.

I kept odd items of their remains, such as my Mom's ugly coffee can, even though I only started to drink coffee regularly years later after my Dad's passing.

I kept their antique, oriental, deep red carpets, even though they were cumbersome to transport and I hate to vacuum ever since I had to as a child. I kept them despite the color red not fitting in my home. I prefer the color purple. 

I kept my Mom's festive green Irish coffee set used only on high holidays, even though I am not a fan of green anything. The set never fails to remind me of my childhood, of memories more the half a century ago.

I kept my Mom's dad silver soup spoon engraved with the family name. I love it and use it daily. Maybe the only object that reminds me of my lineage from my Mom's side.

I kept a few of my Mom's flannel night gowns, even though I tend to sleep naked and consider them ugly. They were cozy, soft and warm I rediscovered, I wore them and still keep what is left for cleaning my home.

My unsolicited advice: Follow your heart - with a sense of discernment. Grief as you must, but be gentle with yourself.