Month: October 2015

As honored members of the older generation, we have a moral responsibility to encourage youthful resistance to authority when appropriate.

For those instances where the border line is not so clearly defined or visible, our duty is to foster open dialog in a professional and honest manner from both sides of the fence, the younger versus the older, right versus wrong.

Nowadays society has become way too strict and brainwashed in its attitudes towards the moral fiber of those youthful thinkers (we once were). History is an endless repetition of this ridiculous we-are-better-than-you attitude. High time to abolish this.

Looking back on those days of the past and the things we did for fame and pleasure, according to today's mindless rules and regulations we might all still be in prison to this very day. Times are changing, but not always for the better.

Though in the long run we were somehow able to achieve relatively successful and respectful lives despite despite our many youthful shortcomings. So what difference does it really make?

We are not any better at all.

Had he still been alive today, he would have reached the ripe old age of ninety-nine years old. Still hard to believe that he passed away fifteen years ago.

The great thing about golf is that no matter how well you are playing, there is always some new personal record to be made. After hitting a couple of buckets on the driving range, and then chipping a bit, I head on up to the putting green. A bit drizzly and cold, but good climate for honing my short game. The goal is to complete one round of nine holes without a single three putt before being able to go home. Sometimes I make it through two rounds or two rounds and a bit before that disastrous three putt ends my dream of perfection. This afternoon was different, totally unexpected. Not two but three rounds without a single three putt, and a new world record to boot. When you think about it, that's quite a worthy accomplishment to feel proud about. Three times nine is twenty-seven holes times three balls per hole equals eighty-one attempts with only two putts and more often than not one putts. I didn't keep track of all of the one putts so not sure how many under I was but it was alot.

Where it all happened, the new world record.

Commuting by train every morning used to be a social activity among fellow travelers who were cordial and polite. The early chit-chat of spontaneous conversation filled the air, variegated voices and motions creating a peaceful background for the high speed swoosh of the train's movement along the rails. Not uncommon was the occasional smile, a glancing stare, meeting eyes and a polite gesture of anticipation and offering.

Nowadays just sit together in a quiet bubble of unawareness completely isolated from the real world. Whatever that may be. People sit hunch-backed in their seats staring at smartphones, glued to the colorful movements on tiny displays. There is no conversation, limited gestures and pure silence. Swiping hands cannot get enough and fingers typing away erratically produce slivers of meaningless. No one looks up, not a soul.

For the older generation of passengers who have happy memories of the good old days of the old-fashioned commute, an eerie emptiness fills the train carriage. All those young folks and their lost souls. Even an accidental bump will not displace glaring eyes, for that other hidden world is too addictive.

No excuse me, no sorry eyes, just aggravation as if every single second glued to the device will never be enough.

Nowadays it's easy to buy new books, much too easy. Just click a button and then download. Oh yeah, and don't forget to fill in your credit card details. I've always been in love with books, the old-fashioned kind that you could hold, feel and smell. My more modern collection of ebooks is growing in leaps and bounds, and I'd be too embarrassed to admit the titles of the majority of books I have yet to read. I read a couple chapters of the one, and then I am distracted to purchase and download a couple more. Or even three or four more. Maybe it's a mania, an addiction or just plain craziness.

There is still much too much to learn, and there's more and more coming.

...
Do you like my hat?
I do not like that hat.
...
Where are those dogs going?
...
What is up there on top of that tree?
A dog party!
A big dog party!
...
And now do you like my hat?
I do. What a hat!

— Go, Dog. Go! by P.D. Eastman

We squashed the European Team and won the coveted trophy.

All I had to do was remember that five digit number when I woke up. If I did, then something truly amazing was going to happen to me or my family or the world civilization maybe even the whole universe.

What this truly amazing something was, I can no longer remember. All that mattered was that I memorize the five digit number no matter what.

I kept on repeating the five digits over and over again. I had to make sure that by repeating it enough times, I could not possibly forget it.

In my excitement, I could feel the number slowly but surely fading away. I repeated the number out loud, louder and louder until I was shouting. Please do not let me forget it, please.

Of course when I woke up I forgot the number. Don't all dreams end that why?

However, I did remember very clearly that it was a "five digit" number, and I'm pretty sure now that it started with a two followed by a five. Though if I had to bet my life on it, I cannot be a hundred percent sure.

Too bad, no truly amazing something this time around. Will give it another try the next time and figure out a better trick to remember.