As time has come
and years have passed;

reminiscent;

Days flee so fast.

In all of five
I did not know;

inadequate;

Feelings still grow.

Tarry five more
and ten had gone;

revitalize;

A fresh new dawn.

Ten plus five made
untold sweet zest;

dependable;

My heart is blessed.

Then ten times two
had went away;

companionship;

Two meet each day.

Now five by five
each day is bright;

reverberant;

Echos each night.

As time has come
and years have passed;

reminiscent;

Days flee so fast.

Copyright © 2009 Keith Blackie 

High atop a soaring mountain I stand alone.
What lies beneath, besides my tired soles;
they have carried me well; I have no regrets.
Euphoria envelops my being, my soul cries out!

This mountain cares not that I am here.
This earth feels naught;
the patter disappears without a trace,
the somber noise deafens the quiet.

Visages dance proudly in the distance,
reflecting across gently flowing pools;
spittle of the sky dampens my spirit;
this pinnacle has been conquered.

As I reprise my role in days gone by,
I am reminded of rainy days.
Drenched overcoats bemoan the deluge;
Why must it rain!

Copyright ©2008  Keith E Blackie

As shadows fall on my heart
and evening grows near.
A groaning call from the dark,
stirs dreadfully grim fear.

The howling winds at my back,
cuts deep into my brain.
The frightful bends and the crack
of trees expose my pain.

As thunder claps in the night
and lightning fills the sky,
the timid act on their fright
for fear that they might die.

The woe inside is conceived
from stories filled with dread.
when not denied, but believed,
into that realm we tread.

Have no dread of idle fear,
for it can do no harm.
Keep instead a beaming cheer
and spread a joyous charm.

Copyright © 2009 Keith Blackie

People say mean things, how we deal with them is what separates us. Several things I have learned and try to practice on a daily basis allows me to keep my sanity, dwell on the positive and positively influence those around me. That list, although not inclusive, is as follows:

• Don’t get angry, you are merely reinforcing their actions
• Don’t retaliate or rebuke them, it only fuels their anger
• Don’t hide from the truth, it hurts sometimes, but it is the truth
• Everyone has prejudices, theirs happens to be against you
• Don’t allow the offender to steal your joy
• Agree with them, they won’t know how to act
• Don’t try and change their mind, it was made up long ago
• Accept that you cannot please them
• Do be kind to them, they will leave you alone

I recall a saying my grandfather used regularly. “Son, don’t let ‘em get your goat!” I used to think he was talking about a real goat, something tangible, but I realized later that he was talking about my emotions. He was telling me to not allow others to influence my emotions in a bad way. It was several years after his death before I understood exactly what he was talking about. Now some 30 years later, I can reflect upon those words and offer the only bit of advice I know how. If someone tries to get your goat, it is best you not let them know when they are close to it, else they will continue. If they get too close, move it. Only you can choose how to react to a situation. Mastery is difficult, and you will never get it perfect without a lobotomy, but over time it becomes easier.

It is your joy, don’t let someone steal it from you!

With the current economic state of the country, I find it disheartening that our government leaders, from the local level all the way to the White House would find it necessary to continue spending money we don’t have and can ill afford to pay back. In my city the newest budget shortfall is unusual in a time when government entities are increasingly wringing more dollars out of their unwilling subjects in a manner that would make an extortionist proud. Living in a community where the average family income is $34k per year, the amount of direct taxes and fees levied by the city for services is a huge chunk of that increasingly tight budget.

During the boom times, our government failed to imagine that at some point the gravy train would derail. Now that it has, it is time for our leaders to take a serious look at the budget and services provided. In tough economic times, families must make a choice between wants and needs and balance the two in a manner that the family as a whole can live with.

Our elected (and appointed) leaders, in an attempt to remain in good graces with a few constituents have failed to adequately represent the nation as a whole, many opting instead to increase fees for government services to cover a tax revenue shortfall. It should be obvious, that is not the proper way to handle a budget crisis, particularly when the people directly affected can ill afford to pay more and are busy cutting their own budget to the bone.

States, counties and cities across the nation have made it known many times that they have already cut the fat. Our nation, on the other hand has done no such thing. Perhaps it is time to redefine what constitutes fat and start all over again.

A thought occured to me last evening.

I was visiting a local restaurant and as with any Friday night, there were dozens of young people crammed into the dining room. Each seemed to be paired in groups of four, two guys and two gals. While there is nothing remarkable about this in particular, what did strike me as a significant change from the many years ago I would have done the same, is the number of mixed ethnicity couples. Of course I have no way of knowing whether any of the people were a couple as I didn’t take the time to observe them for clues about their romantic tendencies, but the fact they were paired as they were would lend to that perception.

I thought about this for a few minutes and I had to ask myself why I found it unusual. Had I been brought up to believe such things were not supposed to take place? Of course I hadn’t, and after some considerable thought, I believe I may have found an answer.

During my childhood and young adult life, the prospect of seeing couples of differing skin color was unusual, I can only remember two and they weren’t treated favorably by most people of the time. Since our reactions to events in life are mostly a learned response, perhaps I learned from an early age that mixed couples are treated harshly by society and as such, they are to be avoided. Maybe that is why I found this unusual and maybe that trend of ostracizing those who appear differently than ourselves is changing.

I find this refreshing and I take great pride in the fact that so many of our youth have the ability to see beyond differences that would have been frowned upon even 20 years ago. I challenge you to put away preconceived ideas and embrace a society that appears to be learning from our past failures.

Upon this Earth, oft we’re blest
with joys beyond the stars;
and we pine for those who left
with years of painful scars.

Eternal rest now dear child,
upon that fateful shore
and find that peace not beguiled
by those we all abhor.

Spirit, now we ask of you,
life short, but yet complete.
Give this Phoenix all her due
and make her life replete.

Those whose will, ill they carry
across that great divide,
to the depths, let them tarry
where ne’er a soul shall hide.

May Heavens gate open wide
and let your spirit dwell,
while those who care not have died
and spend their death in hell.

Dedicated in Memory of Phoenix Sinclair – June 2005 – Winnipeg, CA

Copyright © 2008 Keith Blackie

The year was 1976. As a young boy of 11 years old, I surprisingly had few friends. It wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t because people didn’t like me … it was because of the rural location in which I lived. The closest “friends” were nearly 1/2 mile away and with all of the responsibilities I had on a daily basis, there was very little time to make friends.

Late one afternoon, I was approached by a young lady named Cindy, who asked if I would like to go to church. I knew what church was, I had been to church regularly in the town I used to live in some 3 years earlier. I jumped at the opportunity to have interaction with other kids my age in a setting other than a classroom. Thus began the saga.

On Sunday mornings for the next several months, I was picked up regularly for church. Frank, the youth pastor and husband of Cindy, was soft spoken and personable. His demeanor was quiet and he seemed to be the kind of guy that everyone liked. It was no wonder that I had taken to him and Cindy. It wasn’t long until I was spending weekends with them and then in 1978, I spent the entire summer with Frank. Cindy had went out of town and Frank was alone. At the same time, my family was taking a vacation to Disney. I elected to forgo the Disney trip and stay with Frank.

I had the run of the place. I had whatever I wanted to eat, listened to the radio, played records, rocked in the rocking chair and even decided to cut the grass a couple of times. Frank was a true friend to a young boy, and I felt the need to gain approval. After several days with Frank, all I needed was just a hint from him as to what he wanted me to do and I would do it willingly and with a fervor you rarely see from a boy of 13. I sought his approval and he gave it. The symbiotic relationship we had forged seemed as if it would never end.

Of course, as all things do, there was a reconing. It wasn’t Frank’s fault, in fact I don’t really know whose fault it was. There was enough blame to go around I am sure, but suffice to say, by 1982 our friendship was tenuous. I was interested in girls, and they were interested in me. I had a job, a car and due to some family problems, became what is commonly termed as an “emancipated minor” at the tender age of 16. For the next several years, I had only casual contact with Frank and Cindy. The brief encounter at the store, passing on the highway, nothing extraordinary.

However, as time passed I began to consider our past relationship and once again rekindled it summer in 1991. By this time I was married and had children of my own, and it was my own children who were becoming involved with Frank and Cindy. A local church was having Vacation Bible School and someone from the church came by and asked if my son would like to join them. He of course was elated … fun activities, playing with other children his age and gaining approval from other adults. Frank and Cindy were deeply involved with the childrens program and I was proud to have my own child involved. I had no idea how seriously the impact of my previous relationship with them had been, in fact, it wasn’t until last week that I realized just how much of an impact they had on my life.

I rarely see Frank and Cindy, but when I do, they are always the kind people they have proven to be in the years I was literally a part of their family. Now years later, I found myself sitting in an auditorium at a local church, reading from my bible. This bible isn’t of any particular importance, any other bible would be the same, except, I finally realized why it was important to me. It wasn’t the faith that it inspires, as the words printed inside inspire, not the binding. It wasn’t that I have had this particular bible for 30 years. What makes this bible important to me is the inscription written so many years ago by a young couple seeking to help others. Written from the heart on the inside cover is “We Love You”, and this past week, I finally realized what that meant to me. The impact that Frank and Cindy have made on my life will leave an indelible mark and for that, I am truely blessed to have had a true friend in them. I will continue to cherish the bible they gave me as a young boy and I hope to be able to continue the legacy they started by being a true friend to another child.

Duty beckons me once more,
I dare not turn away,
faces of the weak and poor,
who come to me this day.

Fearless men and women all,
who came before my fate,
mantled on their vesture wall,
upon these sands of late.

Sorrow me nay, but for those,
with dreams of liberty,
sweeping out across the floes
of dunes and sky and sea.

Violent tones upon my breath.
Pray I escape their ply!
Feeling not the sting of death,
as others ’round me die.

Silence weeping as you read
of things across that sea.
Keeping close my love instead
forever with you be.

Copyright © 2008 Keith Blackie

Lethargic Sun why must you tarry?
Cloud puppies seared in the sand
beg of your quick passing.

Short lived they are, lucid dreams of past;
a state of being endures
to wander aimlessly.

Where are the puppies I so long for?
Upon the breast of the mountains
have they sojourned in peace?

Shall I ever reach the pinnacle
where so few have trod before?
surely the Sun does know.

Twilight looms on distant horizons
where but a few dare follow,
except brave cloud puppies.

Oh Sun I beg, return to me soon,
to warm my soul with your smile,
and return cloud puppies.

Copyright © 2008 Keith Blackie

As some of you may know, I am a huge proponent of performing community service, most notably with civic and non-profit organizations, although I also work with the schools whenever I can. While I generally stay relatively busy, I always have time to squeeze in additional time to help those in need. It is something that gives me great pleasure and allows me to solidify friendships that I would have otherwise never had the opportunity to experience.

To understand what I mean, all you need do is look at a recent snapshot of my schedule. On Friday, besides the 9 hours I spent in the office, I also spent 7 hours volunteering for Kiwanis, on Saturday, while I didn’t have to work in the office, I did spend 8 hours at the American Legion. Monday was the slow day. After 9 hours in the office, it was off to the school to volunteer for 5 hours. Today, being election day, I found myself delivering folks to the polls so they may have an opportunity to cast their ballot in this historic election. I also spent an hour with Kiwanis and have another 5 hours of service scheduled for this evening. The rest of the week is relatively the same, 9 hours in the office, and 5 hours with the school, except on Thursday, that will grow to 7 hours at the school. Finally, on Friday am working with Columbia County Resources at our local fairgrounds to ensure everything goes smoothly. Hopefully on Saturday I will have time to devote to some work around the house.

If I were to tally my hours of service to others, I would probably reach 1000 hours of service per year. That is about 2 3/4 hours a day, 7 days a week, every day of the year. Many people don’t work that many hours a year on a job they are being paid for, much less at a task they are not being paid to complete. So the question is, “Why do I do it?” The reason is simple, and after some soul searching, I believe I have an answer. It may be suprising, it was when I discovered it, and it might lead to a better understanding of why you may or may not engage in volunteer service.

I am a firm believer that in everything we do, we do it for personal benefit. If you don’t believe this, then perhaps you should forget you read my thoughts. If you are ready to have your eyes opened, and truly wish to understand your own humanity, then perhaps you can try to absorb the concept without preconception. In a nutshell, I am selfish. In a perverted sense, everything I do for others, is a way to make me feel good. Regardless of whether I receive renumeration, adolation, accolades or simply a sense of self worth, every action I commit, is deeply rooted in my desire to feel good.

The reason I write this is that, if you aren’t as happy as you would like to be, the simple solution is to try and help make someone else happy. In the end, you will find that your own unhappiness will ebb away and true happiness will find you. Try it for a month, you have nothing to lose but apathy and unhappiness.

Brief – compelling, comforting in its own right;
Bringing the flutter of life, high upon majestic waves;
Bent trees, as if weighted atop, tells of its passing;
Life springs forth, welcoming its cool crisp attention;
Stark – the reminder of days when ne’er wind blew
Across deserving and undeserving alike;
When memories of those whose faces were touched
never knew of things to come.
Harsh – truth of being, hides contentment,
As closure beckons the weary traveller to rest
and feast upon the richness of blessings it delivers
in an infinite path to unknown destinations.
Calm – lying unseen, unheard, forever gone,
yet passed in thought, remembered for a lifetime,
comfort given, promises fulfilled, heartily thankful
as life begins anew offering its own rewards of wind

There is a growing movement that concludes that faster than light travel IS possible.

I personally think that the theory Einstein proposed was based on flawed physics. Particle accellerators indeed can accellerate atoms faster than light, regardless of the medium, from the perspective of the viewer (outside the accellerator) the atom travels from A to B faster than light can travel, the same distance.

The grandfather paradox is bunk as is the time travelling aspect of FTL travel. I believe time is linear and unidirectional and as such you can only move forward.

In 100 or 1000 years, I believe my assertions will be proven truthful, as physics, in its entirety is based upon theoretical processes. Theories are modified and adjusted in time. One of the funniest things I can think of regarding physics is the assertion from a world renouned physicist that an automobile could never achieve fuen economy better than 34mpg .. and he proved it using mathematical formulae. The only thing I can suggest is that either the formula was incorrect or the assumptions of energy were incorrect. I suspect the latter. If a physicist cannot correctly determine that a car can’t get better that 34mpg because of energy constraints, then how on earth can I believe then when they state that an arbitrary formula dictates that one cannot travel faster than light?

You read the title correctly. Insurance is probably the biggest lie perpetuated on the public since the flat-earth crowd. Consider in the US, where the masses have been using and abusing insurance for more than a hundred years. On its face insurance looks like and sounds like a perfect solution. The cost of health care for example, is very high. One would argue that by having health insurance, you reduce your expenses, particularly in a catestrophic event, and thus reduce your overall exposure to financial risk in the process. It seems so good, how on earth could it be bad? Well, consider that insurance companies are not independently wealthy, their wealth comes from the premiums paid to them by subscribers …  like you and I, and our respective employers if we are so lucky as to have them subsidize our premiums.

 
Insurance companies are in business to make money, and as such, the premiums that must be collected from the subscribers must always be higher than the monies paid to health care providers for your care, regardless of whether it is for a $40 prescription or a $150,000 heart transplant, plus associated future medical care. It isn’t difficult to imagine then, that given the cost of health care, we just can’t afford it.

 
So, what is the answer? Well, I didn’t say I had the answer, I only said that insurance as we know it is a big lie … if the associated health care costs are not affordable, then the insurance to cover that health care, by the sheer nature of the beast, cannot be affordable either. The prospect, while pretty on the face, is unsustainable. In 2007, the average cost spent per person in the US for health care was $7600. Therefore, to make things equitable for every man, woman and child to receive benefits, (i.e. be able to go to the doctor for whatever ailment they had), a family of 4 would have had to contribute $30,400 to the insurance pool in 2007. Since it is obvious that most people can ill afford to pay the premiums under these circumstances, it stands to reason that the health insurance companies’ betting that you will not need health care is a winning one. The question then is, if the insurance companies don’t think you will need health care, or at least they don’t think the masses will need it, why have we, as a society put so much emphasis on the dire need of health care? The answer once again is with the insurance companies. The top 25 insurance companies in the US spend $1.5 billion annually telling people how much they need their product. So their job is to convice you that you NEED their product, while betting that you don’t.

 
I don’t have health insurance. It is a calculated risk I take. If the insurance company believes I don’t need their product, then why should I believe them when they tell me I do? It doesn’t mean that I forego health care … far from it. Consider that my total health care premium for 2007 would have been $15,200.00 just for me, not including my family, based on a group rate from my employer. On average that is $1267 per month for health care. I would find it very difficult to expend that amount of money monthly on my health care alone. In fact, if I went to see the doctor weekly, I would spend on average $260 per month without health insurance. Most people visit the doctor much less than that, in fact, I have been to the doctor exactly 3 times in the last 2 years. Once for a full physical, required by an organization I was working with, once for a blood test, and once for the results of those tests. I could not begin to tell you how upset I would be had I spent $30,400.00 to an insurance company to provide $295 in services. If you think health care is expensive, try looking at the true cost of your insurance. I did, and I said “No thanks”. I’ll pay for my health care costs as I incur them, and I will keep the remaining $30,000 in a savings account in case I need catestrophic care.

Early this morning, a strangeness overcame me when I awakened briefly. I remembered a childhood occurence as clearly as it had happened yesterday. The memory came from a time when I was 6 years old and we lived in a relatively quiet neighborhood. It was a time when you could allow your children to roam the neighborhood unsupervised … I had the reign of 10 neighborhood blocks. Of course at 6 it seemed like a huge area, something now I would look at as relatively small.

I had many friends, Mike and I were neighbors … best of friends … we would meet together and along with some other friends and play all sorts of childhood games. On the particular day in question, among the 5 or 6 of us gathered on the sidewalk, we began discussions of where we would play “hide and go seek”. I didn’t want to play at my house, because at my house there were just no good places to hide because I knew them all, and at age 6, you presume everyone else must know them too! We each had a vote and I voted to play at Mike’s house, after all, he had a big dog we just loved to play with.

Being there were several other kids there, obviously there was a differing of opinions. The concensus was that we should play at Jimmy’s house. At the time, I was not really happy about that prospect, you see, Jimmy along with his brothers and sister, lived in a house much like mine, except Jimmy’s parents weren’t like mine, in fact they weren’t like anyone’s parents in the neighborhood that I knew of, this fact would ultimatley give me my first encounter with child protective services … I of course expressed my objections to playing at Jimmy’s house, because in the words of a brutally honest 6 year old, Jimmy’s house was “junky”. Sure I had been there before, heck, I had been there many times before, and let me tell you, ”junky” was expressing the living conditions mildly.

Jimmy’s house was not well kept, although the back yard was hidden by a privacy fence, it was obvious these were not the neighbors you would like to have. The front yard had several old lawn mowers in various states of disrepair a car under the carport that didn’t operate and another on the side of the house. The grass however was kept up by a cobbled together push mower used by Jimmy’s older brother Chris. This meant of course that the “junky” house just had the grass cut, nothing else. Jimmy’s youngest brother was in diapers and those diapers frequently made their way into the yard as if by magic. I find it amazing, that even at this early time, while every other struggling parent in our neighborhood was using cloth diapers, Jimmy’s brother had disposables, and they got disposed of right in the front yard along with all sorts of other personal hygene products. I don’t know if they purposefully threw them out there or if they failed to pick up after the dogs dumped the trash can, either way, they were there, the flies were plentiful, and the smell was atrocious. Inside the house was no better, doors were off the hinges, windows were broken out and the dog had messed in the floor and had not been cleaned up. I could never imagine having to live in such squalor and filth, it was certainly not a place I wished to go play.

Then, like a thief in the night, Jimmy and his siblings disappeared, they weren’t abducted though, child protective services had come in and taken the children away, from the youngest to the oldest, all were moved to foster care. Of course “we” knew where they were, even if their parents didn’t, since the parents were not allowed to have contact with the kids, and we were, we found out where they lived. A mere 5 blocks from their old place of squalor.

I don’t know what happened to Jimmy and the rest of his family and I don’t know if they ever came “home”, but I do know that Jimmy took offense to my calling his house “junky”. The rest of the kids used a little more tact than I did, they didn’t express displeasure, even though I could tell from their expressions they knew I was right. I never played “hide and go seek” that day, because even though Jimmy wasn’t a bad kid, he did have a certain amount of pride, and he just couldn’t let my comments go unanswered.

I often wonder about Jimmy and the rest of the gang, where they are and what became of their lives. The queston “Did Jimmy ever go home” likely will never be answered for me. I can only pray that he is living better now than he did then.