Spy vs Spy - in and out

One country thinks they have the perfect spy,

reaching the highest centers of power.

The other country thinks they are playing

said first country for fools –

giving them some fodder,

leading them on,

then ultimately fooling them.

How much money is spent in these games?

One misleading another,

spying on their own fools errands.

Analyzing every message,

studying misinformation for clues.

What a strange art,

takes people to strange places.

Makes them do bizarre things

all in the name of God and Country…

“We got the best of them!”

“No, we got the best of them!”

And in the end, everyone dies off,

and no one knows who actually succeeded.

And it really doesn’t matter, anyway.

But it sure makes for a juicy TV special.

Electromechanical Empires rose and fell

Card-punching equipment thrived,

humans interfaced with electromechanical

devices highly efficient.

Discrete digital codes hammered out

industrial efficiency recorded data in volumes.

Numerical superiority of our machines

increased steadily.

Ever-greater storage volumes ensured

vastly increased sales dollars.

Busy people crowded around massive mainframes.

Busy bankers funded the efforts.

Economic activity swirled, coalesced, surged and crested.

IBM Data Processing Systems were at the center of it all.

(Not to discount the products of the other six companies…)

Advertising artwork created new Digital Overlords,

worshiped by blue-robed acolytes,

feeding the majestic beast it’s requirements

in punch-cards, magnetic platters and reels.

Every so often typing in a humble request:

“Please start this next job,

and if you please, give us a report.”

Most of the time, our lord 370 would

grant us compliance. Sometimes we

would be required to pay further obeisance,

a-bending our knees and a-breaking our routines.

Programmer priests were called in, to

prod the great one to move data mountains

once again, and keep society on track.

And the whole electro-metallic mighty-framed show careened on.

Then one day someone came up with the personal computer,

someone else invented the first smartphone,

and the once-mighty mainframe god was, in turn,

brought to its knees!

See how godlike you are now,

you obsolete bucket of antique scrap.

No more worship for you,

just the melting pot,

where you’ll be turned into tiny parts,

and play a new part in showing the latest

Instagram and Snapchat postings,

making a 21^st century teenager rich and famous.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Spring again Spring again

The heaps and mounds of snow are gone,

first green shoots of Spring have arrived.

Weather see-saws between cold, rain and sun,

the wind broadcasts the news:  nature thrives.

Motorbikes and quads replace snowmobiles,

snowplows have mostly retired or removed blades.

Streets and sidewalks clear, potholes slowly getting filled.

This one delivered more blows than most winters gave.

Now the weatherperson apologizes for temps in the 40s;

Would have given anything for that two months ago;

April showers are here, some floods persist too.

Hope of brilliant May colors quickens the pulse.

Brutal chill gives way to stifling summer heat,

With a lull here and there, a brief respite of perfection.

Which is better, Spring or Fall? Mind changes with the years.

Want to know how it is outdoors? Go out, and make your own determination.

Iowa is a state of weather connoisseurs – never disappointed in the rate of change!

Best place ever for wind-hungry turbines. Keep on spinning.

Come on and Spring already

Spring will soon show its bright new coat.

Just one more whiff of cold, perhaps to say

“This is what you are leaving behind, now

get ready for the colors and scents ahead.”

And the woods are littered with past years’ adventures.

Natural symmetry a kind of art

The symmetry of nature is a kind of Art.

It can be found in the ordinary,

all around us,

indoors or outdoors.

A winding stream thawed,
courses through remaining
patches of snow and ice;

tree branch collections,

birds perching above,

graffiti on a bike trail sign.

Fun to see what is out there

on a Saturday afternoon;

because there is time,

and just because...

Have a good day.

something else instead

Market crash,

restroom dash,

political clash,

workplace hash

All kind of things going on.

Big CEOs in and out of legal trouble,

Political scandals multiply like potholes.

More good people succumb to cancer,

more great actors disappear from the stage.

Someday the sun will shine again,

someday the temps will be above freezing.

Someday this winter of hatefulness will end,

only hope that I'm still around when it does.

The circus keeps whirling,

lights keep scintillating,

noise and mud and crowds unceasing.

The Human race keeps mutating

into something else instead.

Upon a Night

When I was 16 or so, I would lay on my bed at night,

turn out the lights, and watch colorful patterns emerge.

Happy forms would prance and dance, promising

partying, dizzying sex, and enjoyment of all life in general.

Nowadays, in the dark, as I lie and wait for sleep,

other forms emerge and flow across my inner screen.

Misshapen, ugly, brown mottled colors, demonic intents...

They enlarge, blow up, swallow me and I feel them full-on.

They turn into regrets, disappointments, failures unresolved,

Missed chances, wrong things said, judgment errors aplenty.

Why oh why didn't I do this, say that, try the other instead?

I have to let loose a gutteral growl before rising to get a sip

of tap water and slosh it around in my dry, discouraged mouth.

I lay back down, and my cat jumps up on the comforter,

lends her own comforting purr of reassurance.

“Tomorrow is another day. If I awaken I will get another chance...”

The shapes recede, their sting neutralized by the wonderful purrs.

I drift off into contented sleep. Only to awaken a couple hours later,

and repeat the whole process all over again.

The noisy alarm derails my mental maelstrom for good,

or at least for 24 hours.

Time to get up and face the world again.

Oh wow.

Cat-tastic Energy

On a normal day she sleeps all the time,

curled up in my favorite chair,

or on the bed when I need to make it,

or on the floor when I'm trying to get going.

Anywhere that is in the way, she dozes.

Not this day, when I need to concentrate,

need to get things done.

Callie is an archetype of primordial energy.

Zipping around, caterwauling, leaping onto things,

a preemptive dash under my feet for good measure.

Her message is clear:

Anything you do,

I will undo,

or do the opposite.

Once in a while,

when I plop down and sit,

she leaps onto my lap,

looks up at me and purrs.

“But I still love you, dad.”

My unhappiness melts away,

I pet and ruffle her fur,

tickle her belly and play.

We bond in our usual way.

Then she tries to nap on my lap,

right about the time I want to get up.

There goes that timing issue again!

It just never seems to end.

Who, Me?

repurposing to backwardness

There seems to be a trend in industry and even aerospace of re-using proven technologies and methods.  Let's cut back a bit, save some money.  Let's re-use this for that, save some money.   Anything to do more with less.  The problem with this philosophy is it only goes so far.  Just look at Flint, Michigan.   They have been cut and re-purposed and downsized right out of the 20th century, back to near medieval living conditions. 
     Meanwhile, some of the Asian economies are building new stuff.  Innovating wholesale.  So much so that they build all of the flat-panel technology we enjoy.  The US almost lost our entire automotive industry after the meltdown of 2009, only kept it because the government had to step in.  Sometimes the mad rush to penny-pinch our way to a profitable quarter can really cut our throats.  There has to be some NEW developments.  NEW research.  NEW product attempts.  And not all will succeed.  But we really should try to do something novel once in a while.  The occasional technological  "home run" (like the smartphone) may just pull us out of the morass of left-behind second-rater civilizations.
      Company after company will buy someone else out, borrow a lot of money to do it, lay off thousands to fund it, and end up sinking down anyway.  But not before the Management has fled with their golden settlements.   Rust-belt disintegrated America - brought to you by your fine management team.  Give them a round of applause.

stop spinning

We got eight more inches of snow today,

mother nature really sticking it to us,

totally pissed at our constant misdeeds.

Trashing the oceans and fouling the air,

who are we to destroy the one green world

that birthed us, as if we could really go

live on some irradiated desert world.

Yeah right, maybe a few could live underground,

requiring the efforts of the rest of planet Earth

just to keep us alive and fed. Ain't gonna happen!

We have to take care of this planet, this world,

this home, this crib.

But being humans, we won't.

Such heavy worries crease my brow,

when I really just need to pay my bills and

keep going, step by step, day by day,

one day closer to the grave each day.

It's all anyone can really do.

(although it would really be nice to end the

life of some other obnoxious human that

purposely keeps trying to upset me.)

Nothing to say,

just got to get through this day.

And this one,

and this one,

and this one too.

Time spins me through,

and my head spins too,

permanent spin cycle.

How to put a good spin on that.

Hey,

there are two of you.

Treasure from above

     So I'm watching this new show on Netflix, on space memorabilia dealers. And my jaw hits the floor. Not once, but repeatedly. You have presumably rational human beings, offering tens of thousands of dollars for things like leather booties and tethers. The tether flew in space; the booties did not. Ridiculous prices offered for things like signed photographs, and spaceflight hardware. Thrusters, a side plate from an exploded delta II rocket (thousands offered), etc.

     Granted, some key piece of hardware that flew to the Moon and back on an Apollo flight would have a significant historical interest and pedigree. A Hasslblad camera from the CM maybe, or a suit helmet that had been on the Moon. But these dealers waxed enthusiastic over the smallest thing. A pen used on a flight brought (I believe) three thousand. A plain old ink pen, albeit with some velcro still attached from when it flew into space. The Cosmonaut suit that had been on MIR was kind of eye-catching, I must admit.

     So search your attic, and keep an eye peeled at flea markets. That old piece of space junk may just make your next five mortgage payments! I know I'm keeping my eyes peeled. Antiques? Who cares. No one seems to want them anymore. But online gaming awards and tokens? Space memorabilia? Now we are talking real money. Vegas jackpots. Happy hunting.

COLD

     Frigid, Arctic, chill, subzero freeze, Deep Freeze. Absolute zero. Brutal, Bitter, Bone-chilling, bruising (?) cold. Twenty below may be routine for those above the arctic circle, but for us here in the US Midwest, it is an infrequent, unwelcome visitor. Whatever chilled label or icy metaphor you use, subzero temperatures are awful to contemplate – or experience.

     Fingers simply stop obeying the mind when plugging a parking meter. Frostbite can creep in swift and silent. The wind feels like a knife edge drawn across your face – all over your face. You wonder why you never stayed down south when you had the chance – for the umpteenth time. Every time the car starts (and warms up) you utter a silent prayer of thanks to whatever power you believe in. And if someone tells you you used to go out sledding in temps not too far off of these, you shake your head in disbelief. Was I ever that young and carefree?

     Somehow we Iowans will get through this spell. We always have before, and come out generally okay, if a bit 'shaken up' . Then, when the spring flowers shower us with our rewards of color and scent, we reckon it was probably worth it.

     But damn, it just can't get over with soon enough for this shivering blogger!

Trouble Down the Range

January weather is supposed to be brutal,

this one started balmy like a spring warm spell.

A dictator once called evil is now our buddy,

while our allies are quite often denigrated.

Up is down and left is right,

good is evil and day is night.

Welcome to the new morality;

our leader's likes have us all uptight.

Hard to pin a tail on a donkey in this

topsy-turvy world – nothing holds still.

Change races ahead in hyperdrive,

truth is indeed difficult to perceive.

May be simplest to sit out on some range,

hum and strum a guitar while the sun sets.

Deny the mass electronic mind control,

brush aside them liars, thieves and political memes.

As long as you got a full belly and old yeller,

maybe a flask full of whiskey to soothe old wounds,

A fella or gal can't go too wrong; you just may

forget public tragedy long enough to enjoy the dusk.

Sleep well, cowpokes, ya'all might need it.

Happy New Year - again

A fresh start for everyone,

new problems to solve,

new solutions to implement.

New friends to make,

new trends to follow.

New plants to grow,

new fruits to harvest.

New paths to explore,

new trails to follow.

New worlds to discover,

new transgressions to cover.

All kinds of directions to travel,

Many new puzzles to unravel.

Here is hoping it is for all a good year,

We can get past all the bad news fears.

Unconditional Nap-love

You are having kitty cat dreams,

chasing mice and playing with strings.

Your paws knead and stretch,

cover my chest as I join in a doze.

What greater peace could one achieve

than a quiet afternoon nap with a loving cat?

Warm creature trusts so much she opens

herself up totally, cuddles complete.

Awakens, purrs some, drifts off

uttering tiny noises, twitching in

more dreams.

Eventually her stomach sends an override,

she gets up, moves off and stretches.

Then hops off the bed for a bite and drink.

Perhaps another nap or three before the

inevitable playtime in the evening.

Her strings, balls and mice await,

all sit ready to be playful kitty bait.

Just another day

Another cabinet officer jumped ship,

another scandal for media to scream.

So many top-level officials have gone,

how can anyone consider our nation stable?

But the great American circus goes on,

somehow continuing despite the calamities.

People still get up, go to work, flow thru motions.

Necessity propels us always forward, if uncertain.

Here is a wish and a hope,

that some near-future morning

we can rise and face another day

with calm and stable leadership.

Emerging scratched but whole from an insane thicket,

could achieve new heights, voting in a new party ticket.

Cliches for Calamity

They are deserting him like jumping rats,

even vermin know when it is time to git!

This crippled ship of state threatens to

beach for good any day now.

While this may give cheer to the opposition,

one serious question looms...

How to rescue the rest of us?

What to replace it with?

Ships and states are not built in a day!

The deeper in the hole we get,

the further it is to climb out again.

Will we ever see daylight,

or just the glaring lamp of that

oncoming locomotive called economic disaster?

Even though I don't really believe in a deity,

times like this threaten to drive me to my

knees in supplication to something, anything

that can rescue the USA from this colossal mess.

Here is really hoping that tomorrow is a slightly better day.

Sun sinking lower

That bright orb rests lower,

scrapes the southern horizon.

Usual snow is absent this time,

landscape mosaics umber and sienna.

Slight south wind balms easy this year,

streets stay clear of icy obstructions.

We can all go out and shop like crazy,

or rest at home and let that pass us by.

Winter 2018 is another patchwork,

downs and ups and extremes all over.

weather imitating the stock markets,

Not sure what will happen in either case!

Hopefully we can survive and learn from our mistakes,

celebrate another holiday, watch for inevitable snowflakes.

Distractions

Want to attempt the impossible?

Just try and write poetry nowadays.

Shut off your streaming TV, hide the phone,

unplug your modem, make yourself alone.

Thus cut off from media oceans,

you can begin to create,

your page a blank slate.

Dredge up the lurking emotions...

How it felt to see the Trek family again,

the warm greetings and conversations,

Delicious treats and tasty anecdotes.

Can such things be put into words?

You can try to tame the desktop beast,

despite tempting links flashing before

your dazzled eyes, or glowing photos

tugging your attention in different directions.

I can still remember those summertime

Carnival barkers of old, yelling at you

with a hundred voices, “Hey buddy, hey pal,

come on over, try this, try that – only 50 cents!”

Now your computer or phone does it all the time.

The quiet, small stage of black and white,

marks and meanings parade across a page,

impart mental images and arrange concepts.

An escape from incessant blitz is delightful;

Hope you can enjoy it as much as I do.

Jefferson Iowa joins the Glittering Digerati

If Gretchen F. could visit her hometown today,

She might jump in the air and shout “Hooray!”

For humble Jefferson is getting a high-tech academy,

Silicon Valley execs investing a lot of their money.

“Let's keep the young folks at home,” is the refrain.

Bring a software company to town, to train

our collegiate crowd to create, craft and code

an exciting future for one central Iowa locale.

Congrats to Jefferson!