Wednesday, March 25, 2009


"No man is an island, entire of itself; every
man is a piece of the continent, a part of the
main. If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory
were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or
of thine own were: any man's death diminishes
me, because I am involved in mankind, and
therefore never send to know for whom the bells
tolls; it tolls for thee."
John Donne
Devotions upon
Emergent Occasions, no. 17
1624 (published)

I was a courtroom lawyer for forty three years. I told my juries that what they did that day in their verdict would create many effects unknown to them. It was like dropping a pebble in a pool, and the ripples spread out to touch every inch of the pool’s edges. You never know what effect your act or omission today has on someone far away, even unknown. My words spoken long ago have come back to me in the mouths of strangers, most of whom have reported having been happily changed, bemused or even enlightened. I never heard of those bad things I may have done or said, and what changes they evoked. I am sure they are there, in abundance.

Responsibility in its broadest definition doesn’t mean blame; it contains an essence that elevates one who is responsible to a state far above that of the human, but including human. It means one who is willing and able to be at cause over every phase of his life, the lives of others, and all things sentient and non sentient in the universe. A fully responsible man would literally be a God.

Life is tough. Man is ill equipped physically and mentally to handle things that come his way on a regular basis. Growing up in a world that believes in force as its means of survival seems to require that one use force, when understanding would resolve any conflict. Man wants to be happy, and feels he must fight to survive, and meaning well sometimes steps on others toes in the process, bumps them in the crowd, says and does stupid hurtful things to his friends, spouse, children. These insults affect the lives of those who received them, and they repeat them, like echoes.

I was a Boy Scout and active in the Scouts with my sons. Their Pledge is one of taking responsibility for self and others. It means more than just being helpful. It means giving service and exchange in abundance, giving more value than one receives. This oath and the definition of responsibility represents the spiritual ideal of mankind: Love of one another.

It is so easy to communicate through a smile, a nod, a friendly acknowledgement. Most people have never been acknowledged for who they are or what they do. It is so easy to say, “Hey, you are looking terrific today.” Find something you truly admire about that kid, man, lady, nearby while you stand in line at the market or bank and sincerely tell him or her about it. There is always something. Emerson said, “Every man is in some way superior to me, and in that I can learn from him.” One thing you can get from that guy in line is a smile, for he is burdened, you can count on it. You can move him out of it for just a moment, and that may be enough to get him through the day. You get it back double over.

I noticed that when most clients brought their kids in, they didn’t introduce them. Kids are adults that have not achieved full growth, and probably have never been acknowledged as a person. I would squat by the kid, offer my hand (not some shallow high five) but a real handshake as I looked him right in the eye, being really sincere, and said, “I’m L.D., what’s your name?” He would tell me. I would say that I was glad to meet him, and really meant it. You could tell he knew it, for he would brighten up. In a short time he would be hanging on my leg or wanting to sit in my lap or tell me something important about his day. I would let him and listen. Usually the parents were amazed that their kid had opened up like that to a stranger—and to a lawyer at that! That kid would go away realizing he was worthy.

I am responsible for you, though I don’t know you. You are part of the fabric of my universe, and when I see you we will know one another, for we are somehow kindred spirits. And if you just cut a few of the little threads holding yourself, you will know and show that you love me and I love you. That is the way things should be. That is responsibility.

“Don’t send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


This is a randomized blog, written on the 24th of March 09.

I googled myself and found the following article that I had written in the mid eighties. I was asked by OSA to go to a convention in San Francisco onTorts and Religion. There had been a rash of lawsuits against churches and the convention was packed with religious representatives of every description: Moonies, Hare Krishnas, Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, Catholics, Scientologists, Buddhists, etc. The cult of psychiatry was there represented by "Dr." Jolly West, of University of Southern Cal., who was reputed to have killed the university's pet elephant by drugging it with too much LSD. Tim McNamara, an old frat bro (TEKE) from LSU was there representing the Catholic Church from Lafayette, Louisiana. That was a period when the very first lawsuits were developing against priests for sexual abuse, and suits against evangelists for hustling too much money from converts. One church had all of its churches and branches closed in the northeast from a judgment of millions, saying the convert was brainwished and should not have donated that money.

I wrote a piece and sent it to many ministers, warning them of what was coming.

I learned that many ministers, to be ordained, must take a course psychology, and in some cases had to be psychoanalyzed. Now this is such an extraordinary thing. Psychiatry does not believe in God or the spirit of man. On top of that, if a penitent confesses suicidal intent, then the priest or confessor much refer them to a psych or if not, his church can be suit if suicide does result for not sending the person to a psych. So what is a religion purporting to represent God doing referring its parishioners to a cult/business---for it is not medicine and cannot rank out there with medical doctors---in the first place. What is it doing consorting with these cretins in requiring their sanction in order to be men and women of god?

Here's some information that may be useful:


The Emergency Number worldwide for Mobile is 112. If you find Yourself out of the coverage area of your mobile network and there is an Emergency, dial 112 and the mobile will search any existing network to Establish the emergency number for you, and interestingly, this number 112 can be dialed even if the keypad is locked. Try it out.

Have you locked your keys in the car?

Does your car have remote keyless entry? This may come in handy someday. Good reason to own a cell phone: If you lock your keys In the car and the spare keys are at home, call someone at home on their cell phone from your cell phone. Hold your cell phone about a foot >From your car door and have the person at your home press the unlock button, holding it near the mobile phone on their end. Your car will unlock. Saves someone from having to drive your keys to you. Distance is no object. You could be hundreds of miles away, and if you can reach someone who has the other 'remote' for your car, you can unlock the doors (or the trunk).

Editor's Note: It works fine! We tried it out and it unlocked our car over a cell phone!'

Hidden Battery Power

Imagine your cell battery is very low. To activate, press the keys *3370#. Your cell phone will restart with this reserve and the instrument will show a 50% increase in battery. This reserve will get charged when you charge your cell phone next time.

How to disable a STOLEN mobile phone?

To check your Mobile phone's serial number, key in the following Digits on your phone: *#06#. A 15-digit code will appear on the screen. This number is unique to your handset. Write it down and keep it somewhere safe.

If your phone gets stolen, you can phone your service provider and give them this code. They will then be able to block your handset so even if the thief changes the SIM card, your phone will be totally useless. You probably won't get your phone back, but at least you know that whoever stole it can't use/sell it either. If everybody does this, there would be no point in people stealing mobile phones.

And Finally.

Free Directory Service for Cells

Cell phone companies are charging us $1.00 to $1.75 or more for 411 information calls when they don't have to. Most of us do not carry a telephone directory in our vehicle, which makes this situation even more of a problem. When you need to use the 411 information option, simply dial: (800)FREE411, or (800)

"Making love to a woman--an activity full of delights, but none of them predictable and the best of them capable of inflicting grievous injury on a man.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Right there in front of my nose

In my quest for defining and locating the Supreme Being, I knew it was not an entity cast in the beingness of man. It is the allness of all. So what does that mean? Just what it says, it is everything everywhere.. And I am in the center of it all. This beingness is not just connected, it IS everything. The very molecules of air that circulate around and in my body, in this pen I grasp, and in the nupernova in a nebula that I have never heard of trillions of light years away. All. Unimaginably, all.

Sitting in my car with the seat kicked back, ready to nap (poco reposa in Italian) with the windows open, the cool breezes from the gulf ruffling the scruffs of hair I have managed to grow on the circumference of my head, I looked into the tangled bare limbs of the tree above, and realized that they were perfect. The bark on the tree was perfection, then it dawned on me that everything was perfection, in perfect coordination and balance with everything else.

I tried to conceive of what kind of mind that could create that leaf dancing in the breeze above my head. This is beyond belief, but it was made, it was not just grown out of some sea of ammonia. Perhaps it all evolved through some implacable force that ruled out the inferior and allowed only the winning superior to survive and reproduce, constantly squeezing out the losers, now we have the winners today but tomorrow they may be squashed in the remorseless advance of evolution toward a better leaf, tree, squirrel. But it was made ultimately by intelligence and not by accident. That would be all too improbable.

So I decided to mock up a prayer:

Oh thou great intelligence, now that I know you are there and where you are, I ask of you, what may I brace myself against to hold the line? It is so like lifting myself by my bootstraps. I know that I am responsible, ultimately, for all. And in seeking more responsibility, I am forever pushing to remove the stain within that flaws me. I now know that it is simply ethics, but how do I change me? How may I atone for my excesses and for my omissions, for my failure to act when I should have acted, for the gnawing in my loins and struggles within that must be quietened to fit this society of man, so I may do no harm, and serve others.

I am about to go to sleep, and now, after knowing you, I rest, in your arms. I am safe. I know you are only good, and will do no harm. You are my best friend. I am a mirror of you, under the mask I wear that reflects the conflict I lived before I knew that we are one.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


It is still dark, though it is seven A.M. There is a vague hint that morning is imminent, the light is changing, the leaves of my oak are particularizing, coming out of hiding in the night, awakening, changing from an umber mass to individuate themselves in the graying light.

I welcome the new challenge of the day. I have plans but have kept from myself what will really happen, so I can have mystery and game. I will rise and stretch, exercise, coffee, break the fast and then get on my motorcycle and attend to things on my list.

What is next? What joy will I feast on in the coming hours? It is up to me.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Recovering Romantic-seasons of love

Recovering romantic from an ill fated love affair. When I first saw her on her motorcycle, with long black hair flying, I was smitten. I lost myself in that image of wild beauty. I wrote this poem, later played piano and sang it.

Her eyes told me that there was a world beyond mortal sight
Then I saw the shimmering moonlight that was her hair, all a tumble
with waterfalls and birdsong
that I could hear across the rift of our universes.
Her gossamer blue wings irridesced in and out of my vision
and there was a hint of lilac
and something else
the scent of wonder.

She revved her Harley, just feet away from my open window
at the stop light.
She looked into my mind and smiled a smile that
sucked me right out of my head and smacked me against the wall that
separated our worlds.
She laughed.
The very air became her joyful laughter,, blessed
as in kissed
made love to
She let me in and I soared
For that sparking instant
in a joining I had always known was possible.
and it might be enough,
but it was not enough, just to know.

The light changed
She fled away
weaving through traffic
I couoldn't catch her
The last I saw was the red taillight dropping
on the other side of the overpass a quarter mile ahead
I was bereft
I am still trying to catchy my breath
after seeing an angel on US 19
I wonder if I was dreaming
I want to go to heaven if that is where she is
Or get a fast Harley and catch her.
Soon after, I met her, for real, and we talked. I was in love. Euphorically, floatingly in love with this beautiful being. She was Italian, mysterious, alive, hot, reaching. I fell on my head.

Without going through details, months passed of reaching and withdrawing, and now it is over, and I am still connected for I have tasted her universe. That is what communication does, reaches and enters other universes and draws them near, and if you are brave, you enter and can lose yourself in the labryinth of baffling mazes. Love is the melding of universes in a sweeping joinder. I wanted this joinder completely, but she held back, and the more I reached, the further she retreated. Only when I withdrew did she reach, but tentatively and without commitment. The game became pain, then loss and blame. It is over and the scent of wonder still remains, with angst, in my bones.

I was reading a poem this morning, which jumpstarted this little piece, from my wonderful friend, Shirley Windward, who at 90 is still writing, still loving and being. I so wish to deserve the love that she reflects giving someone in this somewhat erotic piece:

Maelstrom Encounter
"---you leap into the navel of his belly
whee the hair grows perfect, evenly arranged like an oriental fan
and trace that fan along the rib of sliding sweet skin, moist with itself
and with your own sleek lips
touch that generous nipple with your
tongue, pressong to ecstacy
in the throat hollow, and up the ridge
of his chin, and then plunge, the arrival,
the attck on his round, red,
barely waiting, ah----beloved lips."

Thank God I have known such touching by a loving woman, but have never been able to deserve keeping her. I learned why, just yesterday, because I was never true. I had never committed myself totally to a women out of fear of losing myself from betrayal or just not being honest, having a back door, keeping that door open for the perfect one that may come along or as an escape route. I opened myself once and stayed married almost twenty years but lost her because I was selfish and lack of my integrity--I didn't screw around, I was just not thinking as I am now and wish I had then the wisdom I now have learned through painful necessity.

When I realized what a worm I have been all my years, I knew I had to change for my viewpoint has proven to be the roadmap to the perfect storm of misery which I have known so much during my life. One knows so little about love; there is no roadmap to the perfect relationship. Relying on emotion as the main criterion is the road to hell. I know.

One is either cause or effect, or somewhere between, and when it comes to love, sex, one wants to be effect and simply opens the door to all that comes through that door to smack him right where he lives. I feel wounded and wonder if I will heal right now because I relied on emotion, but it was a welcomed euphoria I haven't had in a long time, and a feeling of connection I don't remember having this lifetime. I wonder if I can stop loving her. It is an aesthetic undefinable tie that has a beauty that I wish I could control, but it has a tentative hold on me with no future. I still don't understand it but I do know that again I did not take responsibility for myself, and for her, and managed to wreck it again. There will be a next time, and this time I will dedicate myself so fully, regardless of the consequences. I think integrity is the ability to commit oneself fully to another, a job, an effort, without reservation, with the willingness to have whatever comes from the result, hell or high water, and then can look back and say "I did my best." I screwed this one up and though it had problems of age difference, cultural and language differences, if I had this integrity, I could have made it go right. I will never go at anything that I undertake half assed again. I did it with my law practice, always wanting out from the beginning, but in spite of that I was successful for forty three years as an asskicking courtroom lawyer. Maybe that is where I got that attitude. Regardless of its source, I am the one responsible.. It is time that I grow up and become responsible. I devoutly will keep this promise to myself. I will be true to myself and to my mate, my work and life from this point forward. I will be awake every moment from here on to choose the route that serves the greatest good for the greatest number of dynamics and elements in the world, and not just for my selfish self. I want balance,and I will have it. Nothing else will serve. I promise you, my friends, and myself. This is a defining moment.

Then there is my poet friend, Dean Blehert, whose words "We have drawn apart to play catch," once blew me in the weeds with that concept. He has millions of poems. I think he must write dozens every day about everything. He is funny as hell, making points without being serious. His recent publication, Deanotations, Volume I, are poems written beginning in August 1984. Such as

Fame has not changed me
though I daily bask in the applause
of future readers.

The suicidal cavalry officer fed his horse
beans, then locked himself in the stable
with the horse running.

No wind
A tree talks very slow.

The clouds have vanished
and the sunlight is getting
all over everything.

Snap goes the shoelace. The short part
hangs from my hand, lookikng apologetic.

He compared her to a flute:
"I fingered all her stops."
My first date was like that:
Whenever I touched an opening,
she said "stop."

There comes a time in a man's life
when he has to choose. I can't decide
if this is that time or not.

Ignore the craziness of the day just for a while. Sit quietly for three minutes and look at the quietness that surrounds you, reach into their simplicities and be that, find a momentary peace for the noise is only in you. Love yourself, for you are your best friend.

I love you
Can you love yourself as much as I love you?