Business from a business ethics standpoint is: If it is not illegal, it should be done if it benefits the business. The true purpose of business is to make as much money as possible. In most small business because decisions rest on the shoulders of one individual, rarely is everything done with focus on maximum profit.

Small business owners live in the community they are doing business in. Rarely is this the case in big business. No matter who is blamed, there is always finger pointing to another area of the business. First line Managers point out demands of Upper Management for increased output and decreased costs. Upper Management blames the CEO. The CEO points at the Board of Directors, and the Board of Directors point to the faceless stockholders. This way no one is responsible for the actions of the company.

Not all multinational companies operate in this manner, but enough do that it effects politics down to a local level. In recent years some elected officials have gone from doing what is right for the people to doing what lines their pockets the best. Special interests and lobbyists throw money around like it is worthless. Sooner or later a few small gray area deals are made by a few elected officials, and personal and political ethics bloom into something different, namely getting richer.

Political blogs, hard line blogs of the Right and Left, politically oriented news services, and radio talk shows, the list goes on. Some are dropping what is best for America and promoting what is best for them. Political talk shows never air views opposite the host. It interrupts the message and the format. If a political retort comment is written on a X Wing blog, it is not approved. It is not part of the agenda.

Truth and lies are becoming more difficult to separate in political rhetoric. Mud is slung back and forth by the minute. Preemptive strikes are becoming the norm, as is blaming the other party for creating a situation that does not yest exist. Perhaps writing it did not exist until it was released to sympathetic media ears who released it to sympathetic listeners, who talked it up enough to become a story is more precise. As spawned groundless rhetoric gains momentum, fiction becomes truth, solidifying out of thin air and nothingness.

The most recent presidential election had whispers of racism, and hints of racism will cut their way into the next Presidential election, turning it into a Race Issue. It does not matter President Obama is an American, that is not good enough. Which party fired the first shot over the bow of the other will never be decided. It won’t matter the Race Card was created out of vapor to swing votes, and fear as a weapon.

Race Laced Cannon Balls are starting to fly in both directions. The next Presidential election is being turned into a Race War. It won’t matter current issues are very complex, and have their roots in decisions made decades earlier.

Who is going to ride the Government Horse

We are going to be subjected from many subtle angles an idea our President is only in office because of “The Race Card”. I for one, am sick and tired of it already. I bet you are too, even if you have only the slightest interest in the goings on of the Republican Party preliminaries.

This election will be a campaign is intended to make you sick of politics as a whole. Government for business can not have a free reign if Americans are not only voting, but paying attention to what is happening between voting sessions.

Almost half of Americans are near the income poverty line. A very large percentage of Americans are homeless compared to a few years ago when rampant greed had undue influence over Government Policy. Nothing improves because we want it to. All of us need to start paying attention to what our Officials are doing what and why. Don’t allow this election to hinge on the Race Card with so many serious issues facing all Americans

Nor does it matter the Republican Party has viable candidates, who defer running for office when Our Country Is In Trouble. It would not look good, having to try and solve multiple problems and keep the big money that elected them happy at the same time. Especially when the election platform is based on the poor job the current President is doing.

Politics of today is no longer based on party lines. Politics of today is based on business influence. Business influence coming into politics both at home and from abroad, China for example. Big Business wants more freedom, more profit, and more politicians doing their bidding. They want you to be quiet and complacent.

The only line in the sand against big business owning America is you and I paying close attention to what is happening, and using your vote wisely. Without you and I paying close attention, there will be politicians will vote in their best interests, to include the best interests of the big money backing them. Our interests and wishes will cease to be important. Not voting is casting your vote, except you are saying it does not matter who or what decides your future.

Don’t be put off by the smoke and mirror race card. The serious state of the economy, and the problems we face as a people are far more important than skin color. Don’t think not voting shows what you feel about the political system. Good or bad, it is the best and only system we have.

Sit on the side of the road, and big business will be the only winner in the next Presidential Election. We average Americans have been squeezed to the point there is no more to give, and our political affiliations are of no matter. We all need to pay attention and make our wishes known.

It is of no importance the Republican Party front runners can not go a week without saying something that can only be called utterly stupid. It won’t matter Republican Party candidates are so busy assassinating each other, they can not keep their own house in order.

It does matter right now, politicians are refusing to take action to improve the economic state of America. We are now entering in a Presidential Race War. Let us stop it now, and cry Wolf. Let us really hope it does not hit the average person in the street. This Race Card nonsense is playing with fire, and the fire is quite hot, and the tinder is very dry.

Yet here I was in Gary, having taken a cab from the docks, out walking and enjoying the morning and the energy of the city. Because I was a Country Bumpkin and did not know any better I took a wrong turn. Every step I took I was walked further away from the White neighborhood I had been in and entered a Black neighborhood. At first I was unaware as nothing seemed any different to me. Then the neighborhood started to look poorer. Then I finally noticed that the only white face on the street was mine and people were looking at me.

I kept walking because I didn’t know what else to do. I was not from there. I picked up one follower. He walked some feet behind me, and followed me wherever I walked. About fifteen minutes later a second man joined the first, and I was getting ready for a fight or worse. Five or Ten minutes after that there were three men following me and the gap was closing between us. I was still walking, faster now, aimlessly. I was hoping to cross the invisible line that separated their world from mine. I finally made it unscathed.

My Grandfather once told me a story of when he was a young man. It occurred probably in the 1920′s or 1930′s when he was in Detroit Michigan for work. He was a blue collar worker and quite by mistake he fond himself lot in a Black District. He was walking along the back streets and alleys, when a kind hearted Woman saw him. She told him to come with her before he was “stomped and beaten” because he was  a White Man wandering in a black neighborhood. He definitely was not wanted there.

The kindly Woman took him to what he called her two room shack, sat him on her orange crate furniture, fed him, and told him she would not let him leave until morning. After a night of sleeping on the floor the old Woman walked him to the street corner where Black ended and White began.

This spring there was a Slut Walk in Toronto. It started as I understand it by a women or a few women taking offense to a comment made by an instructor in a woman’s self defense class. Of course self defense course should be sterilized as much as possible from the reality of why one is in the class. Just as attending a concealed weapons course the Instructor should never mention that carrying a hidden weapon on your person puts one in jeopardy of killing another human being, and perhaps being killed yourself for doing so.

These classes or courses should be sanitized shouldn’t they? Classes should be dumbed down, made cutesy, and be politically correct so they are socially more palatable. Seriously, if I were an instructor teaching self defense, I may be less willing to teach groups of Women how to protect themselves. It would be more important to lose a few dollars than be the focus for a well intentioned comment.

The Slut Walk is spreading across the land. It reminds me of Gloria Steinem and her emergence from nowhere to becoming an almost daily celebrity on six o’clock World News. Gloria Steinem and other women were angry back in the day. They were burning bra’s and making demands. As a young man at the time I was all for bra burning!

Nothing has changed over a generation, what average heterosexual young man, or adult male for that matter would not be deep down happy about the Slut Walk coming to his town? Where else can a man get free eye candy? It doesn’t matter whether these Women are protesting a laundry soap commercial, or what they see as furthering their personal rights, the view is all the same.

From my small unscientific pole. Most Men see the Slut Walk as entertainment, almost as if the Women of Desperate Housewives stepped out of the television, and physically moved into their neighborhoods. As the off color only semi-joke goes; “Men have two brains, and only blood enough for one at a time.” We Men are simple creatures, not generally well known for our thoughtfulness and concern for Women’s Rights in particular.

I personally am all for what these Women wish to accomplish. I think deep down once the sexual clothing is replaced with something more appropriate most men are also in favor. We are Husbands, Fathers, Brothers and Uncles. Everyone should have the right to dress as they want without suffering overtones that go with clothing choices.

I would have felt the same for the Flappers, or Zoot Suiter’s, as I do for Cowboys, Gay or Butch dress, as I was for Hippies, and Women Libbers of the sixties and early seventies. It is fine by me when people want to express themselves through their clothing. I only prefer people be reasonable and responsible in their choices.

Personal expression however does not change the world on its own. The Dark Ages of Europe and onward into today show what we are really capable of. Any person, Woman or Man, who puts themselves at risk through personal expression, must be prepared for all possible consequences of their actions.

Women can’t have it both ways. Women can not dress in a provocative manner and expect every Man that looks at them to know you are simply defending their right not to be looked at as a plaything or victim. Personal violence waiting for some unfortunate woman who does not understand the implications of their actions is lurking on the other side of the filmy veneer of our society.

The silent majority generally wants what is best. The opposite of the silent majority is the smaller silent minority. Part of the silent minority are criminals and deviants looking for prey. They do not care why a woman looks like she does. They do not care about personal rights. They don’t care that an active participant in the local Slut Walk movement is a Mother of three, a PTA member, and goes to Church on Sunday.

There is the saying, “It’s all fun and games, then someone gets hurt.” Someone getting hurt from participation in the Slut Walk movement is a given. It is just a matter of when. I would not think of denying anyone the right to express themselves in a manner they choose as long as they are not hurting others.

I do have concerns over who is going to be hurt and maybe killed because they are too naive to understand the risk they are bringing upon themselves when it comes to their choice of public dress. There is no safe point, where a Woman can dress in a certain manner and not draw the attention of that silent minority who could care less about promoting her civil or personal rights. While the intention of the Slut Walk is above board, the ramifications and fallout are a cause for concern.

On the political side, how do these women expect to be taken serious when they dress and act like they have a small part in a movie? If Slut Walk expects anything other than some publicity of dubious content, they are going to have to clean up their act, and make it something that can be discussed at the dinner table in front of the kids, and from the pulpit on Sunday morning.

If a metamorphosis of this type does not happen, Slut Walk will be short lived. Right now it gathers attention like Lady Gaga, but the attention span of the public is short, and the Politicians of the world have more serious issues to contend with right now.

Keeping the focus on Casey Anthony is already bringing on the inevitable deluge of books trying to squeeze a few cents from our personal coffers via sensationalism. The magazines, books, and web pages, and what they present will all be slanted in one way or another. Some People will buy the books, and we will go through another round of who said and did what. In the end it does not matter. Everyone involved in the matter did what they each thought they had to do. I do not answer for them, and neither does anyone else. They created their own world, and now they live with their creation.

In times past, situations like this were easier to deal with. Communities were smaller. Life outside of one’s community was precarious at best. Many merchants never returned from their journey because instead of banding together for protection, they traveled in too small of a group or alone. Few people traveled more than a day or two from from where they were born if they did not have to.

A Community who decided someone did an act of very wrong doing had options. The Community may have chosen to shun that Person, making them invisible to the Community as a whole. For the shunned Person, being made invisible was tantamount to a death sentence. Living in their Community was no longer possible because a shunned person could find a way to have their needs met. Life outside their Community, no matter where they went was hard in the best of circumstances. A Person leaving their Community was a stranger, a target to be preyed upon by people belonging to other Communities.

In some primitive tribes, there would also be the threat of something terrible descending on the village and in particular the home of the person who wronged the community in a way that deserved punishment, when there was no formal punishment. Generally, these creatures were Men or Women of the village who turned themselves over to punishing the offender. They may have formed a line acting as a simulated centipede, trampling and flattening everything the offender possesses, or came together at night, beating the offending person under the guise of darkness.

In formed groups, such as the military, men would be held down in their beds under a blanket and beaten as a form of justice. Vigilante groups, and other nefarious organizations often took it upon themselves to meet out justice. In many cases justice was delivered to the wrong person, but it mattered little to the group responsible.

In the case of Casey Anthony, ignoring everything about Casey Anthony and the case is the strongest and most direct action an individual may take. Do not participate in gossip and conjecture gatherings; change the television or radio channel. Read a different article or web page. Do not buy any books that are out, or coming out, and do not patronize any movies.

Doing this may seem like a small almost inconsequential thing, but it the most empowering action we as individuals can take. Individual voices are small and seldom heard, but individual actions performed as a group thunder their resolve and determination. In fact after reading this post, call, email, tweet, or im your friends and tell them to ignore this post as it only adds fuel to the fire. Let the fire go out.

Once the fruit trees bloom the pollen attack sets in. If the ultra high pollen counts were not enough we experience some fairly high winds, and even higher wind gusts. There were gusts topping seventy mile per hour last week. If the pollen does not do you in the seventy mile an hour dust blowing into your sinus cavities and implanted into your eyeballs will.

I also know it is Spring because thoughts of fishing enter my mind. I know that Carp fishing is just around the corner. If you have not yet, and you are a fisherman, it is time to break out the tackle box, take an inventory, and replace lost or worn tackle.

If you put off tackle replacement, until you want to go fishing, everything you want to buy will be in someone else’s tackle box, and you will be staring at empty spaces where the hooks and lures you were planning to buy were going.

This spring, I want to start bicycling again. I want to save my back from the road jar sent up a diamond frame bicycle so I have started to look into alternatives. There is one bicycle type named a ‘Recumbent Bicycle’. If you have never seen a recumbent bicycle, they look kind of strange. Imagine lying on the couch as you are peddling down the road. Perhaps slumping in your favorite chair and peddling.

Recumbent Bicycles are fast. So fast they are banned from most major bicycle races including the ‘Tour de France‘. It seems a recumbent bicycle and rider won the Tour de France back in the 1930′s by such a margin that Recumbent Bicycles were outlawed for having an unfair advantage in the race.

I was skeptical of that fact until I read, only a few years ago a Tag Team of riders riding a Recumbent Bicycle crossed the east/west length of America in five days and one hour at an average speed of twenty-four miles per hour! Quite an impressive achievement that has stood for almost two decades now, and probably will not be broken except by another team riding a Recumbent Bicycle.

The drawback to a Recumbent Bicycle mentioned most often is low speed – under ten miles per hour – instability. Because the wheel base of recumbent or “Bents” as they are fondly called, is so long, and your feet are generally at or above your seat height, there is a greater probability of falling over sideways at slower speeds.

At higher speeds, you can be the undisputed King of the Road, and very relaxed while you ride. Many newer Recumbent riders stated they found they were riding at least one-third there normal riding distance longer, and still not feeling tired or sore as they did on their diamond framed bicycles.

Also in the realm of possibility is a ‘Recumbent Trike‘. A recumbent trike is a very high tech three wheeled bicycle. Think of a multi speed Hot-wheel with bicycle wheels and a steel or aluminum frame. The come in two distinct versions. The first version is called a delta trike and has one wheel in front and two in the back. The second version, called the tadpole has one wheel in the back and two in the front. For general riding the tadpole seems to have the greatest advantage.

There is only one dealer in town having Recumbent Bicycles, and Recumbent Trikes, so it really narrows my selection choices, unless I want to buy without trying online. I am leaning towards a Trike as sometimes I ride with people who like to ride slow; they feel it is safer. Personally, I prefer going as fast as possible!

Recumbent Trikes are perceived to be a little slower than their bicycle counterpart, but they make up for it in the relaxed ride they provide. Eat a sandwich, drink some water, and enjoy the scenery all around as you peddle down the road on your favorite chair on wheels is what I read. Popular informed opinion seems to think its more about the engine than the ride.

Between work, thinking about fishing, bicycles, and sinuses, I am staying busy. It is time now to stop thinking and start doing, as we get later into spring the winds show up later in the morning and next month, not until afternoon. I wonder if I could find some makeshift pontoons and a paddle wheel? I could be the first in the state to fish using the new Recumbent Trike trolling method?

Last night in my dream I was part of a large experiment. I am not sure why, but I was looking forward to the challenge. I was not looking forward to one part of the experiment. I had previously experienced that part it caused me to become immediately anxious. The feeling passed through my dream and followed me into my waking state when my alarm went off.

There were a couple of hundred of us. We were all volunteers as far as I knew, though I did not seem to know any of the others. This experiment was supposedly centered on our health and fitness levels. I knew I was in good health and very fit, so I was looking forward to the trial ahead. I could not tell about the others by looking at them.

My body was different than the one I know. I looked quite different. My facial structure, eye and hair color were different. That body was stronger than mine, I noticed when I saw a reflection of myself in some stainless steel panels. The body I was in thrived on physical challenges, and I felt this experiment would really be no challenge. If I had a name, I do not know what it was as I never heard it said.

I was given an old olive green back pack, and told to run to the next building where I had come from while wearing the pack. It was about a mile away. Someone sprayed me with cold water, and pointed me to the path I would take. It was night and wet with cold rain and minor flooding. I went outside into the night as quickly as I could.

Water was flowing towards me, and varied from a trickle to a few inches deep. The water and rain were cold, but did not make me feel cold. I decided I was warm due to the exertion of carrying the back pack with whatever was in it and my fast walk.

I have a lot of dreams of this type for some reason. Sometimes I am in the Military in a ground operation, just a few of us. Other times, I am on a military base, and I repair equipment. At other times I am in briefings and making plans. Many nights I am roaming through mountainous terrain ensuring all is well within the area of my jurisdiction. One night I was attacked by several dogs while patrolling.

Occasionally, I am talking to a me who is living a different life. The most striking Me I recall was a Me I spoke with who belonged to an outlaw motorcycle club. He was forty-one at the time, and was telling me that he was old and tired. He did not think he would live out the year. He thought it was not a life choice he would make again, although he had no real regrets other than he was old before his time from the rigors and demands of that lifestyle.

One night in a dream I was being operated on. I was awake, and I was in communication with the people doing the surgery. I was face down, and they were repairing my spine, which I had somehow hurt. In another dream I was placing sonic buoys in a lake with a second person, filled with fish as big as me, who apparently had no interest in eating people.

In another dream I was visiting a planet with different life forms. An octopus type creature lived in the water there, and I was there as a tourist to see it in its natural environment. It was touristy family event with a guide, though I was there alone. The guide said the creature’s name, and it was unlike any name I had ever heard before, foreign to my way of speech.

My longest continuous dream lasted over six months, most nights of the week. It was ongoing for so long I started taking notes, so if ever I met those people in this lifetime, I wanted to ask if we shared the same dream. I never met them of course, but eventually the dream had an ending, one I would never have scripted.

These dreams are so vivid and realistic sometimes I wonder if they are me in a parallel life or time. Are there many Me’s living different lives in different realities, all at the same time? Does each major life choice spawn off a different me who continued on living the choices I chose not to make?

If these dreams did not feel so logical and solid, I would not think of them twice. The sticking point with me, is they are not like my average dreams where the flow does not make sense, and the situations could never happen in this life. Those dreams I know are dreams. These other dreams though, they always make me wonder.

I have often wondered why with two similar people can have two drastically different lives. For example, two brothers and one leads a normal life and lives as a couch potato while the other brother becomes a successful marathon runner, turns to drugs or alcohol, or dies at an early age.

Descartes and others before him seriously pondered the separateness of mind and body. Mind and body are seen as two different forms in one place, with the mind the undisputed master. I had this slightly different idea in my head for years. A book I am reading mentions this idea as if it is fact. I thought a long time ago that perhaps we are riding in our bodies, not always a fully integrated package, and we are not in totally in charge as we like to think we are.

Do our individual bodies have wants and needs of their own? Is it possible our bodies take control and force changes our mind does not want? Do our bodies want certain things to happen, and if we agree fine, if not, too bad and our body makes it happen?

Where or how our body and our mind divisions are formed I am not sure. What if the physical struggle some of us experience in or with our body is a result of body demands, and we can not control it? The soul wants things one way, and the body wants them another way. Neither can take control completely, and conflict arises and the body wins in the long run.

We certainly do not have total control over our own body. We can bully ourselves somewhat, make our body do what we want to a certain point, but after that we can do no more. We can exercise our body to make it fit, but only to a certain level. We can feed it the right amounts of proper food. We can ensure our receives the proper amount of rest.

We assume physical and psychological limitations stop us when doing a physical task another person like us can do. In some cases this is true, but it does not seem to be plausible in all cases. An over achiever in one area is not able to become an over achiever in other areas. For some of us, our bodies do only so much and no more.

Is living in our bodies more of a two way street than the Master and Servant idea we are comfortable with? When we complete a challenging physical task perhaps our agreed to the challenge. When we can not do something many people can maybe it is not our will power that is at fault. Maybe we are no more masters of our own body than we are masters of the universe?

There are many examples of people who appear to have done everything right and experienced only normal or less than normal result in sports or other physical endeavors. Some people exercise and diet religiously, and die early with no previously known health issues. Other people who spend their live abusing their body live on to a great age and their bodies seem to do anything it is tasked to do.

Maybe our body has a lot of say of what we can and can not physically do. Maybe we need to have agreement with our body to achieve above normal results in a physical task.

We are barely out of the stone age of medicine, and far away from having a genuine understanding of how we really are put together and how we work. Perhaps our soul and our body usually work together, but not always. Perhaps one part of us needs the other for the physical survival of both, and one or the other decides to opt out.

Do we share our body with our body taking part in the decision making process? Are we a symbiotic parasite living in our body? Is the union of body and soul something we do not yet understand? Do we have unknown internal conversations reaching agreement with our body about what is and what is not acceptable and achievable? Are we really Masters of so many pounds of animated flesh until like a machine it one day starts to break down and stops working?

Sony W370 – Does almost everything as well as the FH20 but for more money.

Canon A490 – Amazing for what it does at its very low price.

Canon A495 – Almost a clone of the A490 with almost the same bells and whistles.

Sony T99  – I really wanted this camera, but it was mentioned in a few places that the low light ability left a lot to be desired.

Samsung HZ30W – One heck of a camera if everything works. Very mixed reviews out there on this camera.

Panasonic Lumix FP1 – Another great pocket camera with a lot in common with the Sony T line, only for less $$. It also suffers from low light problems.

Nikon S80 – Very nice camera competes well with the FH20, for more money.

Panasonic Lumix FH20 – I ended up purchasing this make and model. This camera edged out all others within $100.00 price range in a number of reviews.

low light, no flash

That was the line up in the low end price range that I seriously considered. There may be other models out there that compete as well, but I did not have access to play with them. All in all I was really impressed with Sony’s touch screen menu. It was easy to use I thought, though others did not seem to care for it. That means the menu designers and I think alike.

One thought to keep in mind is the megapixels of these cameras are now hitting fourteen. That is a huge picture allowing you to cut down the size of the picture removing the edges where most of the flaws are.

All of these models have the same basic flaws in their picture quality. In general, if you are shopping in this price range, you probably won’t notice the flaws inherent to the cameras, or they won’t be important as long as you don’t expect professional results and flawless large prints.

These cameras are so close in function and quality that any of them would make a great small camera. Try out the option and menus system of each one and decide what menu works best for you. That is the biggest deciding factors in this price range.

In closing, one thing I think is getting crazy is the megapixel numbers. I thought my now dead five megapixel camera took all the picture I really needed. Now I have a camera capable of taking great pictures of almost 2.5 times the size of my old camera. I don’t really need more megapixels next time out. What I would really like to see better built and thought out cameras with better menus instead of cramming in more megapixels.

“I talk to them from the bushes. They can’t see me hiding. At first they think it is funny, someone they know, then they get scared and their voices start to shake. They always run away, sometimes whimpering! It is lots of fun, but it is over much too quickly. I can’t do it often, because they might catch me if I do it too much.”

Over too quickly? How long will it take before I am over too quickly? THINK I screamed inside my head. “How would you like to talk to someone, who no matter how scared they become will not let you stop talking to them?” After a short pause it said, “That never happens.” I noticed it’s breath did not smell good and my shoulder was hurting. “What if I show you how it can be done?”

“How?” I had only one chance to do this, or I was going to be dead. “With a cell phone”, I squeaked got out between waves of panic. “What is a cell phone?”, it asked. “This is a cell phone, you use it to talk to people. You can talk to them and scare them as much as you want.” I pulled out my cell phone and opened it. “See it works like this”, I said as I held it against my ear. “I have seen them on my food; they are no use to me”, It said.

“But they are useful, you see, you can talk to someone who won’t get away, no matter how scared they get.” Slowing down slightly and then stopping it said, “I don’t believe you.”

“Look, here, you press these places and the person answers who will keep talking no matter what you tell them.” With eyes that looked more interested in playing with a toy, than being hungry it said, “Let me see it work.”

I dialed a number and waited for the ring. When they started speaking I said, “Hurry please, wait, someone else wants to talk with you”, and I held out my cell phone. It took the phone and after a few seconds learned how to hold the phone so it could both talk and hear as it held on to me.

It started talking innocently enough, almost a friendly voice. After twenty seconds or so, its conversation started to change. Its voice undulated between silky and sinister. I did not like listening to it talk, and I was terrified of hearing what it was saying.

After what seemed to be forever it took its hand off my shoulder. It became fixated with the conversation it was having. I stood like a statue, too scared to move. Another moment or two went by. It was becoming excited by having someone listen to it for so long, hearing what it was going to do to the person it was speaking to. Another time space went by, and it was so engrossed in the conversation, it turned slightly away from me releasing its hold from my shoulder. It wasn’t interested in food at the moment.

I moved so slowly at first, it felt like I was not really moving. It felt like minutes were flying by and I had moved maybe a foot. I took a little step. It ears flicked but it did not turn to face me, focused on the conversation.

Another little step, and another, and before I knew it I was running like I had never ran before. I didn’t know it was possible to move that fast! I was running so hard, I was scared I was going to fall face first in the road!

I was running back towards the center of town into the light. I was too scared to look back. The mess in my pants was starting to chaff, but I didn’t care. I did not care that I stunk, I ran as fast as I could looking for a house with lights on.

I saw a car pulling into a driveway, and ran towards it, praying that Thing was not behind me ready to crush my skull with its paw. The Man and Woman in the car were scared, both from my story and my looks and smell. I begged them to let me in the house with them. Once inside I asked where their phone was because I wanted to call 911. As I was explaining to them I had an emergency, I heard a gun shot, then another.

I received a summons in the mail to appear in court back in that Little Town, or pay a hefty fine. My Cell Phone Company sent me a final bill and cut off my service on the grounds I was abused their service. The State Police and 911 Emergency Services sent me a certified letter containing a large bill for misuse of the 911 emergency system, and threatened severe legal action if I did not pay immediately. The letter never mentioned what had happened.

When I called the State Police and the 911 Systems Manager, they both agreed I was a public nuisance and I should go to jail. They finished stating the fines could become more serious if I did not pay them immediately, and legal action would follow, meaning jail time.

I know the 911 operator who took that call from my cell phone feels a shiver of fear every time their phone rings whether they are working or not. I know I am lucky to be alive. I sold some things as fast as I could, took out a loan, and quickly payed off my new bills all in the same day.

My cell phone and 911 saved my life! I never want to go within five-hundred miles of that Town again. I tried to get another cell phone from another company, but it seems I am banned from all area providers without any real explanation or recourse. I try hard not to think about that night.

After driving all day, I stopped for the night in a smallish midwest town. I had been driving for longer than I wanted to think about, and all I wanted was a bed and a pillow. Or so I thought. I stopped on the edge of what appeared to be the older (cheaper) part of an old town. The part of town where the homes and businesses were decayed a little more than the rest of the uneventful looking town. Did I mention it was Halloween Eve?

I got what seemed to be a very good price for the night, a little under $25.00, and they promised a soft bed with clean sheets and towels, hot water, and  a continental breakfast in the morning, if I were up no later than nine o’clock. I was happy with the soft bed, clean sheets and towels, and hot water. They could keep their watered down coffee and stale donut.

I carried in my small bag and backpack which holds my laptop and a few books in it. I locked the door behind me, opened my bag took out my tooth brush and tooth paste and went to try out the shower. The water was hot, the shampoo was okay, and the towels worked as advertised.

Now I was hungry. I dressed and headed out the door to see what was open. I walked heading to where the newer part of town was, or where I thought it should be from the lights and sounds of cars in the distance. I figured there had to be a little coffee shop, or diner in the town, as it was still almost light out, they should be open for at least another hour.

Dinner was uneventful, roast chicken, potatoes, corn, coffee, and water. Too much coffee it turned out. By the time I was ready to leave, I was feeling the caffeine kicking in. So much for a long days drive. I decided to walk around and see what the town offered.

It was pretty much like any small town, a few streets, and small open city center turned into a day park. I walked around the outside of the little park, looking in the windows of the closed stores, seeing what they may have in the windows that was unique. Turns out there was not much I could see that I wanted. Most of the stores had displays of items people use on a regular basis. There was no undiscovered bevy of interesting trinkets in any of the windows.

I decided it was time to head back to the hotel, so I turned down the street towards the edge of town. As I walked I noticed the town did not spend a lot of money on street lights. That was okay as the walk over was level and uneventful. About the time I thought I was almost to the hotel, the town ended and turned into a county road heading somewhere.

I realized I turned the wrong way when I left the diner. I decided I could hook a left and come out around the street where the hotel was. There was tired tarred street with abandoned houses on the left side, and woods on the right, but no street lights. The good thing was there was no traffic either. I headed down the road, liberally taking up my fair share of the pavement as I walked.

About fifty yards down the road, I thought I heard walking behind me. I slowed down and it slowed down. I sped up and it did too. I was about to turn and see who was following behind me when what looked and felt like a large furry paw came to rest on my left shoulder.  “Keep walking”, a voice said. Adrenaline kicked in almost immediately and I started to walk faster in spite of myself.

The paw like hand had claws at the end. “A little slower if you please”, it said. I almost filled my pants as I made myself slow down and partially turned to see who ever thought they were being funny. What I saw in the darkness was not funny at all. It looked like a large dark cat walking on two legs. Only it was in the shape of a very strong person.

As I tried to comprehend what I was looking at, it said in that voice it had, “Trick or Treat,  a Fool to eat!” That was it, whatever muscle I had used a few seconds earlier holding back my pants from being filled gave way, and I was a soggy mess from my waste down. “They always do that”, it said in that same disquieting voice.

I didn’t know what to do as the hand-paw grip tightened ever so slightly. Think, think, I told myself. Yah, think when I could hardly keep from collapsing in a quivering stinky, soggy mess on the ground. Think I commanded myself!

“Trick or Treat”, ha, ho, how do you know about “Trick or Treat”? It was the best I could do in the middle of a panicked terror. “I have been doing this a long, long time”, the voice echoed. Oh no! I thought to myself, it has been doing this a long time. I am dead! Any second will be my last.

“What do you like to do when you are not doing this”, I asked? “Scaring people”, came the reply, “I like to scare people”. Think! I shouted inside my head. “How do you scare them”, I asked?

“I talk to them from the bushes. They can’t see me hiding. At first they think it is funny, someone they know, then they get scared and their voices start to shake. They always run away, sometimes whimpering! It is lots of fun, but it is over much too quickly. I don’t do it often, because they might catch me if I do it too much.”

To be continued….

The theme song for “Mash” is a song I rarely heard anywhere until after the Cast and Crew retired and all that was left were reruns. The song never caught on, but it still received some air time. The Mash theme song was named, Suicide is Painless. Unless you are paying attention you will not really notice the lyrics to the song. Some songs are like that. Songs like this one flow so smoothly, they float through us, and we never hear the words.

I want to get to the point of this post now, and there seems to be no easy way to do it. This is a post about suicide. I don’t know if because there are so many more people, suicide gets more publicity, or nothing has changed; but suicide comes and goes like the flu. It is especially prevalent among Teens these days.

I understand the reasons why Teens are especially vulnerable to the idea of Suicide. Peer pressure, feelings of not belonging, feeling distant, pressure to get good grades, and pressure to always be a winner, and other forms of pressure are constant when you are a Teen.

While these are serious matters, and very painful at the time, none of them are so serious that suicide is a good fix for them. We all have felt the pressure of surviving our teen years, and we all know how bad they can be.

The problem with suicide is the thought process. It is akin to Plato’s Cave. If you are not familiar with Plato’s Cave, here is a short explanation. A number of people are seated in a dark cave watching a play in front of them. The cave is so dark that you can not see the people seated behind you. Nor can you really make out the people in front of you other than there are people sitting in front of you.

The play is unfolding in front of you. You watch the actors and follow the story line. The story line is the story line of pain. When the pain becomes too much thoughts of suicide enter into the play. We get so involved in our pain, we forget there is a whole world outside of the cave. We become so fixated on our pain we forget about the rest of our life.

Our pain is intensified by external sources. People create or contribute to our pain. They may not intend to cause pain. They may want to be rid of their pain, or make someone else hurt like they do.

Somehow the idea creeps in to our thoughts that the only control we have over the drama on the stage is to stop the pain by stopping us. If we no longer exist the pain can no longer hurt. If we cease to exist, everything will be better.

Few people, especially Teens ever admit to feeling this way. I believe it is a lot more prevalent than we would like to think it is. I am of the opinion some of us try to pass our pain to others in the hope one day we will start to feel the pain going away.

We become so focused on stopping our pain, we do not see it will be the end end for us. The pain of life will go away, period. It is vital to understand the pain we feel is something in a state of passing. It will go away if we only move slowly and wait for it to move on.

This pain which hits many Teens, like everything else in life is only short term, even though it may feel like it will go on forever. Your Parents, Aunts, and Uncles, any adult you know has either gone through the same pain and feelings, or knows someone who did.

It is hard to think about before or after this all started, but you need to think about both before and after. Never before in your life has anything affected you like what you are feeling now. Don’t give up, you will be happy again. Wait for happier times to return.

There is an old saying, “It is always the darkest before the Dawn”.

If you can not see a way out of your pain or see a future, it is a sure sign the worst is over and Dawn is just around the corner. Dawn is worth waiting for, because with the Dawn is a reawakening of all that is good about life, and why life is worth living.

I promise you, if you can wait a day, week, month, even a year, the pain will go away and life will become what it is meant to be for you. All you have to do is know that life can not get any worse, you have hit the bottom, it will only get better. Dawn will be here soon, if you will only believe it will. If you can not allow yourself to believe the worst is over, take a minute or two to think about this:

There are an untold number of people waiting for you in your future who need you in their life. The reasons why they will need you in their lives will all be different.  If you never enter their lives they will never receive the gifts you have to give them. They will never be able to do for themselves what you are going to do for them. Please do not let these people down, they are counting on you being there for them.