Shark Tooth

All men have in their hearts, the spirit of the Lion.
The blood of wolverines flows through our veins.
We arise to the sound of drums, and the acrid smell of spent rounds.
We long to plunge our hands into the bees nest, to tap Maple trees, to wrestle badgers, and so on.

Unfortunately this primal resonance is lost in the shuffle. It's lost in our suit coats and lattes. In our minivans, and book clubs, and weight gain. In our blank looks to the horizon, in our collections, and in our vices.

And so we cope. We cope as best we can. And for most of us our coping isn't very pretty. We buy fancy cars with big engines and after-market parts we can't afford. We go the track, put our money down, and dream. We take a sip or two or more and wonder where the night went. We lift the weights, we read the books, we anger too easily. We buy a unicycle, we withdraw, we pick-up a new hobby.

We're trying to find the lion again, to let him roar.

We obsess about our health, we mentor, we build a boat, we garden, we take a dance class, we meditate, we pray, we confess, we eat. There are so many ways aren't there? John Eldridge wrote a book a number of years ago, Wild at Heart, and this general concept was sort of the thesis of his writing. I think that he was right on... mostly.

He argued that men need to be men. To howl and hunt and fellowship. I think there is a short cut and I'm pretty sure my short cut will make me rich... which is also one of the coping mechanisms.

As you all know the Great White Shark is one of the most feared and awesome creatures on the planet. Nobody wants to mess with these predators of the deep and if they do, many times the messoree ends up on the wrong side of the messing.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/man-dives-with-great-white-wearing-meat-suit-12911806

So here is the answer. The short cut. I have started to manufacture, in my basement, Great White shark teeth. The tooth can then be purchased with a leather or hemp or synthetic lanyard and be worn around the neck, just in the clavicle. Here is the thinking. When a man wears a shark tooth... the need to find the howl goes away. The shark tooth tells us and the world, "I've done that thing that you have not, that thing which ought not have been, and yet I stand here unscathed and well groomed".

You see we can trick ourselves... and others... into knowing that the only thing waiting now... is possibility.

Slippery Slope

Soil.
Dirt.
Earth.

It is musky and dank and fertile.
It's moist nutrients are essential to life... a building block of hungry civilizations.

Perhaps, like I, you have spent a night out by the campfire, with just the stars as a blanket, a rock as a pillow, and a bear bag for good measure. Perhaps you've dined on uncooked squirrel guts, played Giardia roulette with slow moving pasture filtered creek water, and stayed warm with only your wits. And perhaps - after a restless nights sleep - you've woken with dirt in your mouth and black widows in your ears.

It is a craft forged in the hot embers of discomfort and dysentery. Perfected by cowboys, adventurers, vikings, and the Irish. You can't see it from your air conditioned interstates. You can't find it on your hotel room cable T.V., at your in-laws, in the shower, or anywhere there is comfort.

It is camping. It is a way of life.

My eldest just turned nine.
Is she slipping away from us?
Let's go camping.

Should we take the car, with the tent, and the cooler, and the B suits? We own it all. We could go tomorrow. "But its a pain to get it all together... and I'd like a more comfy bed... and a refrigerator?"

What if I build a platform in the back of the van? We could sleep on it, and put the kids in the tent. What if we got a rooftop tent? What if we got a roof-top tent and I built a custom camp kitchen (chuck box/patrol box/food aplenty box)? What if we got an old military trailer that I build into a custom semi-off-road camping Swiss army knife to store our stuff. What if I put a tent on top of that army knife trailer. What if we named the trailer and christened her The Molly Hatchet?

Ok... that isn't going to work. Let's buy a cheap used pop-up.

But how many should it sleep? How big should it be? What if all the kids want to bring friends camping? What if the dog wants to bring a friend? What if we need to go to the potty? What if it really hot and we want air-conditioned camping? What if the house burns down and we need to live in the pop-up for several years? We're going to need a big one. A really nice once. With a shower (indoor and outdoor). With a hot water heater. And an awning. And a bike rack.

Ok... maybe we should just look at actual travel trailers.

Well if we're going to do that we should get an Airstream. They are after-all an actual piece of Americana. We could travel the byways of these United States in style with our aluminum clad vacation lozenge and have the comforts of home... and miniature home on wheels. But they are really expensive.

Oh... Hummmm.

What if we got an old one and refurbished it? We redid our house right? We can redo a micro Shangri-La can't we? We could gut it, and plumb it, and electrical it, and Ikea it, and get retro modern curtains. When it is all done we'd sit by the fire on our portable foldaway ceder patio, sipping martinis, listening to Benny Goodman bounce on the Hi-Fi. The kids would make friends and play jacks and hula-hoop. I'd manipulate the grill and the Mrs. would make milkshakes and it would be real swell.

And so I found myself this last weekend laying on the ground looking at the underside of a 40 year-old Airstream. It actually has pieces hanging off of it. The tires are old and cracking. The insides are original and rough. Kara found some 8 tracks. It was the slap in the face I needed.

And so we're left with dirt in the face tent camping - for now. And our children will grow up to be hearty, with memories of wet cold camp outs. Of sweaty mosquito bites, and dirty feet, and warmth in their hearts.

New IPAD 2 Review

My New IPAD 2.

As you all know Apple, Inc. made almost 10 Billion dollars with the first generation of IPAD.
People got crazy for the IPAD.
They wanted the IPAD.
They bought the IPAD.
The experienced the IPAD.
They named their kids after the IPAD -

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/swedish-couple-names-first-born-IPAD-12722026

I'll admit that I wanted one. I wanted to hold it in my hands and touch it. I wanted to smell it with my nose. I wanted to peer into its high resolution display and do stuff. But I didn't get one... I'm not an early adopter.

So out comes the new IPAD2 with its thinnerness and lighterness and 1080p output and dual cameras and apps. Its a whole new kind of deal Apple says. It will help you to live your life more fully they say. It will help you in a crisis, or in love, or in Madagascar they say. Think of the kids. Think of the elderly. Think of the scientists and the doctors and the parents and the pets?

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/new-IPAD2-app-for-poodles-and-snakes-12722027

Here is my beef. I'm a big Apple fan by-the-way. I was one of the first people to turn a Macintosh into an aquarium. But to me the IPAD2 doesn't go far enough. In fact I cannot foresee a time when it will ever go far enough. Technology as a whole is not advanced enough for me. I'd like to hold these designers, developers, and programmers to a higher standard.

So here is my list of non-negotiable attributes for the next "game changing" technology.

1. It should not have a screen, buttons, input device, battery, cords, or speakers. This device should be about the size and taste of an Altoids breath freshener and you should be able to ingest it. I should be able to go to a very nicely designed vending machine, swipe my card, pay my $100, and get a mint sized computer.

2. The computer should "drive" its way into the mind and then park itself on the shoulder of one of my synaptic super-highways. It should set the emergency brake, pull out the awning of the 1966 Airstream Overlander styled hard drive, start cooking up some bratwurst, and get to work. And I should be able to smell the bratwurst.

3. After ingesting said device I should never be aware that there is anything happening. I should never think about using any of the apps, or the cameras, or the other junk. I should be able to do all of those things in my mind and it will seem as if I'm doing them myself. It should seem like I've been bionically manipulated without all the government intervention or the mechanical side effects.

4. That's it. I will not be buying any more technology items until this is achieved.

So keep on trying Apple. Steve Jobs - you may be the most progressive business/technology/design thinker to have ever lived but your a little bit behind here.

The future is bright.
The potential technology is brighter.
Let's go together.

Honeysuckle Rose

I have many names for Kara... my true love. My go to name for her: Honeysuckle Rose. As you know... the original Honeysuckle Rose was a pirate vessel skippered by the infamous Ricardo Johnson... a fearsome pirate and English professor.

She likes the idea of being a sweet lady upon the open seas, the salty air in her nostrils, the fresh blood of an innocent on her decks.

The previous name was Hottie Squad. I started using this because of her hotness. Summertime Georgia, High Noon, Greenhouse, Asphalt hot. So hot it was like a squad of hotties were storming my Nordic Castle and all I had on was my kilt, and some crocs, and a Popsicle. Who can stop/resist/deny such an overwhelming force... and so you can see my point.

Other names... that haven't stuck.

Mr. Wheezy
Hot lips
Jacob the Barber
Rosa
Tender Morsel
Lady of the Loch
Turnbuckle Magee
Sneakers
Love Drummer
Tasty Freeze
A Couple of Coins
833-445
Howdy Pants
Syrupy Surprise
Nancy Regan's Best Bud
Gravity Hurts Up High
Hum Drum's Antidote
House Work Happiness
Putter
Teresa
Gerbil Maze
Corn Maze
Maize Maze

People like to be called names other than their real names. It is comforting to them. They like it... because it makes them feel famous. I would like to know a famous person... and so the names.