Quicksand

When I ponder the time that I've spent worrying about perishing in quicksand, I'm reminded that all my fretting has been a waste of my time. Turns out, quicksand can't kill you. Oh, sure, crows can peck your eyes out while you're mired in goo, but eventually you'll bob to the top, with or without eyes.

Actually, there is really no such thing as quicksand. Any colloidal mix of water and sand or clay in the right, or should I say wrong, proportions will cause the sensation that we all know from Tarzan movies.

Enough about quicksand. My message here, if in fact I have a message here, is that all our worrying is a waste of time. Look both ways before you cross the street and get on with life.

If you feel like you need a "safe word," you probably just need a new partner.

 

Wolf!

If you're tired of hearing me tell you that I've reached the mountaintop, well, sir, I don't blame you. I hesitate to use the high falutin' terms seeker, pilgrim, crusader. I've never known what I was looking for but I've always believed it was out there. I've known that it was out there. 

Lord knows the clues are there. Movies, songs, books and oh, yeah- voices. My mom knew and she gave me grand hints. Lottie personified all of it. I've learned more from the dogs and cats than from most of my schooling but I don't want to short shrift my wonderful teachers, either. 

Now, without warning, it all arrives on the shores. She came to visit for two weeks and the earth shifted. I could easier give up oxygen, water, tofu than live without her presence. I'm off to the United Kingdom for as long as they'll have me. 

Believe me when I tell you that I have a big, big heart and it's full. I'm deliriously happy and yes, I know just how lucky I am. She personifies the truth and beauty that I had come to believe was just movie stuff. I hope every one of you knows this joy in your life.

 

Where Do You Start?

You don't have to work for happiness, you have to accept it. Most of us learn over a lifetime how to stymie the joy. School and family, the church and the government and social mores all pile on to make us cautious, serious. We learn to grieve, pout, retaliate and blush.

Here comes Ronny, suggesting that you skip, smile, whistle and dance when you feel like it. If they make you wear pants, you might want to just go somewhere else. 

Be thrifty so that you won't be someone's burden, but, you know what? Giving that homeless guy a few bucks isn't going to threaten your standard of living. In fact, if you shake his hand and tell him that you're pulling for him, it might just raise it a bit.

Think dirty thoughts when you can. You always can. Ain't no loving creator developed sex, only to discourage indulgence. This would seem to make sense for the heathen and maybe more sense for the devout. Don't let them tell you how to do it or whom to do it with, either.

Now, why, you may ask yourself, would you take advice from someone like me? For starters, I may be the happiest guy in the world. All I've done is try to stay out of the way of self-defeat. I don't claim to know much. Love hard like you did when you were a kid. You know, when you didn't know anybody was watching. Before anything ever hurt you.

If I loved any harder stuff would melt.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

 

Come and Get These Memories

They're under every bed in the house. The closets are full of them. There are drawers and cabinets and boxes, jammed full. One shed and a utility room behind the house overflow. Memories. Come get them. Not only am I selling everything right down to the bare walls, I'm selling the walls, too. 

Folks keep asking me, "Ronny, doesn't it kill you to get rid of these guitars, these mementos, souvenirs, tokens, keepsakes?"

Let's remember here that I'm the biggest sentimental fool to ever come down the pike.

Now I'm without a car for the first time since I was fourteen years old. Feels great. Of course friends have loaned me a car so I'm not huffing, puffing or hitchhiking. For now.

In March I began making new memories. Oh, I don't forget anything. I became the man that I am over a very long time. I don't need things to remind me of who I am. 

Meantime, if you need stuff- I'm your man. There are even a few guitars left!

 

Driving On The Left

Love is the answer. I forgot the question a long time ago. The only thing worth having is time and you can't buy it with any amount of money. It's hard to waste it, though. Most of it that goes to waste is spent at workplaces or in bad relationships or tilting at windmills masquerading as politics or religion. 

Don't let them trick you into believing that old apple story. Love is a whole lot better when you know for sure that it's naughty. 

While I'm preaching, (it is Sunday), do your best not to put too much effort into a pursuit of wealth. Financial, I mean. That currency is always going to be printed by the ones who control it. Don't let them steal your joy by diverting your attention from bliss. You know where your happiness lies.

I got good at waiting. Really good. Then I gave up, slowly but surely. I couldn't have told you what I had been waiting for. When it came, all at once, I was amazed. Go where it leads you and try your best to use up all the love.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

 

Learner's Permit

One book and everything changed. Seems that maybe I'm not very good at accepting love, embracing joy. I've never been able to take a compliment with any grace. It's my good fortune that more folks haven't given up on me.

What redeems me, if I might be redeemed, is my sense of whimsy. I see the world as one of those cartoons where every character is some form of Goofy. Oh, I spend time wringing my hands. More than my share. My sense of lust is always on call, too. No clown with a squirting flower or a spinning bowtie, however, will ever have to work overtime for me.

Now, sir, I'd rather not study war no more and I sure don't have much time for world commerce. I'll keep singing for the same reasons that the birds keep singing. I love for a living.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.

 

So Long, Cowboy

 

Stuff. I've spent a lifetime defining my existence with it. Coonskin hats, cars, art, guitars, books and real estate. Now that I finally know who I am, I don't need this stuff. I don't want this stuff. I want to love and create. I'm dying to sing and dance, laugh and cry. I long to walk and read and take winter naps. Turns out fantasies are real. Who was it who said, "Thank god for courage at the right time?"

You dream for long enough and you realize that it's all real. It's all right in front of you. Miracles are real. You just have to believe in them.

Don't wait for luck. Grab it by the collar. Don't look for love. Love.