Footprint

(a poem)

A chasm, a river,  and  a conquering span,

With truss or wire or wood.

Even beneath, burrowing, digging,

Dying by the dozens, seeking the other side,

Victory over the elements.

A genetic tree forest, straight and true

Soft and hard, for paper or timber

Ten times faster than Nature

In less space.

What Hath God Wrought? Indeed

Ribbons of tar and concrete,

Walls of stone and steel

Lights in the dark, Fire in the hold!

Profligate Porsches and Aston Martins.

Is there life in the universe? Besides us, I mean

Is there life in the universe? Are you serious? The universe abounds with life, teems with life, of such description and diversity as to strain credulity. There are paradise planets, ice planets, swamp planets, desert planets, some the same size as Earth, but most a little smaller, with some no bigger than New Jersey. There are giants, too; Jupiter-sized and bigger. Twin planets, triplet plants, dual suns... think it, it's out there.

Inhabitants? How about Reptile people a hundred times more intelligent than humans? Or Bird people, Cat people, people who design their own bodies! On the vast, encompassing scale of evolution, Earth and homo sapiens are not the bottom of the barrel, but we're definitely in the lower third.

We think we're alone mainly because we've had the misfortune to flame into existence in a butt-fuck section of the universe where almost nothing ever happens. Every planet we've ever known besides ours is dead - stone dead; no relics, no history, nothing. Small wonder we think we may be the only ones here.

Of course, by now you're asking, 'How do I know this? What makes me so all-knowing, and with such specificity, yet? Easy.  Freddy Muller told me, and Freddy's been there.

(a work in progress...)

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That's an unfair beginning. Freddy comes in much later in the story, but I used him here just to pique readers' interest. So forget about him for now, OK?
The story really begins more than 60 years ago, off the coast of Florida, in an area that has come to be known as the Bermuda Triangle.

Five Grumman Avenger torpedo bombers disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle in December,1945. A Martin PBM Mariner dispatched as a rescue plane exploded in mid-flight. There were no survivors of these incidents, and no wreckage was ever recovered until August 2010, when a treasure hunter searching for a sunken Spanish galleon found one almost perfectly preserved Avenger, complete with the skeletal remains of its crew.

Me & My Pal Vladimir Horowitz

  I was working in PR at AT&T when a note crossed my inbox. We were sponsoring a Horowitz concert at Avery Fisher Hall, and the note gave the inclusive M.O. for the event -- a meet and greet luncheon. a strategy session covering acoustics, seating arrangements, etc., an after-concert social -- that sort of stuff. About 3/4ths down the list was a single line: 2pm dress rehearsal.

 That was it. Nothing about any attendance or tickets. I thought, 'Geez, I wonder if I could get into this thing, y'know, flash my AT&T badge, brass it out?'

 And so I did. I got there about ten minutes before two. On stage was the orchestra and Mr. Horowitz. Along each wall were maybe a dozen or so people with clipboards and papers. The hall was darkened, and there was nobody in the seats. Nobody!

Uh-oh. I didn't have the balls to insinuate myself into the clipboard crowd. What should I do? I pretty much decided to exit gracefully, but then I thought, 'Hey, it's dark down here. Who's going to notice me?' I slid into an aisle seat at row 20 and scrooched down so only my head was visible.
 Mr. Horowitz motioned to the near wall, and somebody trotted out and up to the piano. He leaned over to the Maestro, listening to an instruction of some kind, and then came straightaway to me!
 'The maestro would like to know who you are, and what are you doing here?' I gulped blurted out the truth - a nobody AT&T employee who found out about the rehearsal and thought I could sneak in. I was ordered to wait while this information was passed to the piano player. He peered out and waved OK!
 After the concert Mr. Horowitz jumped off - yes, jumped off his chair and came directly to me. He leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder.
'Well?' he said. 'What did you think?'
Really!

Leaning Towards Camus

We just don't know how tiny and insignificant we are. We've got great telescopes spanning the universe, rockets sending messages beyond our solar system, medicine that edges us toward immortality. Doesn't it all make sense?
Maybe we exist on a leaf, caught in an eddy; we rotate slowly, aimlessly. until  one day the current catches us and... ppffft!
Have a cup of coffee!

Here we go again!

Up and running. Check us out from time to time.
FYI -- 'Under the radar' contains hot links that amuse me; 'Links' are more permanent. 'Random Pics' can literally be any photo I've picked up in 10+ years, and the archives are just that.