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I’d found this note in a most unusual place.

Dusty and draped by a cobweb or two, the note obviously hadn’t been read in some time. How long would that be? We’d moved into our house over eighteen years ago and others had enjoyed the house before us-how could it have been in place for so long without being noticed? I think it all a miracle!

It wasn’t even a full piece of paper but just a part of a larger whole. Folded, yellowed and without line, it seemed marked, creased on its outside, by someones’ firm handwriting.

There was no reason to not unfold the paper and read the note; curiosity would clutter my head until I did-I knew. Scanning the words gave me pause.

I fell in love with you at first sight. I knew it then. Nothing was going to keep me from being at your door until you opened it so I might stand by your side. Our faces remained lip-locked for most of that first year, and when we laughed we could feel each others warm breath.

We had no guarantees but for us. Still, that was enough. 

We began our journey into space without boundaries and time no clock could keep. We held hands in super markets-remember? We both loved the beach, the waves, sky and wind in our hair. We ran for miles together almost daily without fail; so much young energy poured from our souls, tingled our fingers and itched our legs that we just had to move. And, all the while, a love for you grew inside me that could never be moved.

You became my home.

Nothing much mattered when it came to things, whether we rented or eventually bought a house remained trappings to the core of us that I held on to so tightly. That soft, core place of love within me burned a fire that warmed each day and night. I worked with you in mind and slept easy with you by my side. 

Years, so many, have passed, and though we’ll eventually leave here and find a new place I wanted to take this moment to thank you for being you. I want to thank you for those smiles you flash, that small laugh you often sport, for that all-seeing way you guide us to better places, and for your touch that means so much. And, I should mention the chocolate-chip cookies. 

I’m so glad I wrote you this note; now, if I can just keep track of it until I give it to you!

There was no signature…

I marveled at the words in this note. Who knows how many years it took this person to finally write them down? Had the other person ever read them? It’s amazing how something this large in meaning might rest for so long inside a person. So much can be buried beneath a life-time of obligation, jobs, bills, some call it progress, beneath all those words that must be said on a daily basis. It seemed I understood it all; life has a way of moving people around their true meaning, the things that really drive them on.

I turned to bring this found treasure to share with my wife but realized that, of course, she was in Japan-a zillion miles away helping and visiting family. I had just me, my dog, and this note.  I began to fold the note for safe keeping to share later but the note had vanished! I looked everywhere! It hadn’t fallen to the floor, slid under the kitchen table or scooted under a nearby tattered chair. No, the note had disappeared.

That’s when I found the note in a most unusual place: the one place I hadn’t thought to look.

Of course, the note was back deep inside of me.

Dale, I’ve loved you for forty-five years.

Happy New Year to all of you. Maybe, write a note this New Year’s Day, and never put it away.

Peace and Love

Franque23

 

 

 

 

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays…this is my seasonal bulletin board and seasonal card to you!

I remember too well the moment I entered my parents Christmas party to sing, Jingle Balls, Jingle balls, to a fit of laughing cocktail holding adults. This was to be my big debut (but why is this spelled like what it was for me?) Anyway, I was too young to take anything to heart, and I left knowing I sang the heck out of that song.

There were so many warm Christmas mornings at the Franquemont household on Long Island. I never lacked for anything; my eyes only looked out with hope, curiosity and with acceptance that I was given by my parents and siblings.  It was an easy breezy life as I ran down the stairs first in line ahead of my brother and sister to race to a present laden Christmas tree. Blocks, coloring books and rocket launchers were the stuff of Christmas. The stockings were stuffed with candy but for that one stupid apple Mom always put in the bottom. Then, I never understood that Mom had been raised on her father’s mission in Recife, Brazil,  and an apple was a treasure to hoard for her. Of course, I’d give anything to find an apple put there by Mom in my stocking now, but she is seven years gone. She’s a smile in the clouds, the rolling waves at any beach, the diamond stars up north at Lake Bonaparte on a clear, crisp night and the warmth of the beach sand that conforms to my body as seagulls call from above. She is so much of every Christmas.

I remember Dad torturing me by making my ten-year old hands shovel three feet deep to start a new garden. It seemed so wrong to be digging around Christmas, but now I’ve had gardens here in Florida for the past 40 years. And when I dig dad’s eyes are looking through mine and his voice rings my ears with, “That a boy.” I hear the eagle call from high above and I know he is there gliding, swooping, free.

Part of getting older is hording a ton of memories. Thoughts of years gone by and the people who stayed with them and left as well are a treasure chest buried deep within, one locked for safety by the heart. I’ve still journeys ahead, and so many behind. I’d like to think that I’ve grown wiser with the passing years–certainly I know Jingle Bells now. But, for whatever reason this Christmas day, I found myself walking through our garden and thinking about all the division the world over is experiencing today.

It may surprise you to know that I am several things beyond a library worker, a neighbor, a father, grandfather,gardener, writer of this glob and books on Kindle,a fisherman, builder, but also a minister who was lucky enough to marry my niece.  I have a favorite passage in the Bible I try to follow,

Proverbs 3:6 Living Bible (TLB)

In everything you do, put God first, and he will direct you and crown your efforts with success.

If all of humanity were to take this message to heart the world would change. I’m certain it is in every  kind religious teachings; if only we could listen. I try to never forget these words as I thank God for every little thing I take time to notice as I go about my day.* Of course, I’ve fallen as short of this instruction as any could many times, but I try.

So this Christmas, the fertile garden, Mom’s gentle smile and Father’s certain voice led me to consider what my personal message might be this Christmas.

Here it is:

Being whatever gender or preference you are is a part of the natural passage of humans throughout our existence. We need to stop this fight of exclusion. This is Christmas, and it’s a great time for everyone to come to this realization. The stars remind us that the light is within us-if we’d only let it shine. Acceptance feels good; expressing hate or rejection is bad for the soul. We need to let people be.

Sometimes I think the worst word in our language is, ‘No.’ Using no is quick and sometimes needed, but often it is used when taking the time to teach proactively why whatever is being asked or done is not a good idea would otherwise move the mind forward. The best word in our language is, ‘Yes.’ I’m going to try to use it more in 2019. I hope you join me. Cast aside hate. Raise hope and acceptance.

Cheers… hugs, and Merry Christmas!

Franque23

  • I most concur with the, ‘God however known,’ concept.

Caring for people enriches our living experience.

Universal Heath care is one way Americans can ensure we care for one another. It is also a fundamental building block when it comes to creating a happy, productive work force.

Don’t be fooled by claims that state how much Universal Health care will cost Americans. These claims side-swipe the truth by listing costs of Universal health care without mentioning that these figures are FAR below the cost of the privately  run health care system we have now.*

Don’t be fooled by the jabbering of politicians or the rich who live inside the pockets of the healthcare industry—The truth is, Universal Health care will save American’s billions of dollars when compared to the projected cost of our current health care system—-BILLIONS. 

Universal health eliminates the constant worry about the cost of aging.  Universal Health care will stop estates being lost due to increasing costs of health care as people who have worked to save all their lives lose their savings to health care providers.

Only the top 1 to 3% of Americans need not worry about the cost of health care as they age. Thing is, those rich enough to pay for health care or those involved in providing healthcare from pharmaceuticals, some doctors, clinic and hospitals on up play a heavy hand in keeping Universal health care boxed out of America.

Barring Universal health care to Americans is a political, money-making scheme that needs to end.

The next time you get sick and have to see a doctor think about Universal Health Care.

The next time you think your savings are growing, think about the cost of aging and how you will feel when you turn your savings over to a health care provider. This is a real situation for just every one of us who are lucky enough to survive to a ripe old age.

Basically, like it or not, America is in for a huge, social upheaval.

America is approaching huge societal change driven by minorities and by those mostly under the age of forty who demand social justice. The time has come to cast off old ways of thinking and the back room deals lobbyists place on American society; the two-step shuffle of lies politicians use to belabor our lives and posterity is over.

We didn’t have a blue wave in 2018—we had a voter’s tsunami.

2020 will bring more of the same voting trends we experienced in 2018. Those involved in old ways of thinking and those entrenched in America’s poor way of providing health care to all of us are in for a shock. It’s all over; change is here.

It’s just a matter of time until America provides its workers and all of its citizens Universal Health care. Those opposed to this change can keep on dancing their two-step lying dance, but the music has stopped.

Voters! Vote for what is healthy for you and yours in 2020.

Cheers

Franque23

*https://www.businessinsider.com/bernie-sanders-medicare-for-all-plan-cost-save-money-2018-7

“According to the Mercatus model, total health spending would actually come in about $303 billion lower in 2031 than under current projections, with $7.35 trillion going to healthcare that year versus $7.65 trillion expected now. Total national health spending would be $2 trillion lower from 2022 to 2031 under the plan, the report found.”


They next few minutes will amaze your mind.

The next few minutes will make you question your hearing.

The next few minutes will warm your heart.

How’s this for starting off the season right?

Just listen….

Thanks to Barbara for sharing this with me…

Season’s Greetings

Franque23 oh wait….now I see they have another and several more…this one’s neat

 

 

 


(Click the pic to enlarge.)

A thread on Face book today got this going. The points went back and forth about whether or not American’s should be off work on Election day. Would this help bring out voters? Is it necessary to close businesses when we have early voting or mail-in with even prepaid postage in some states?

You know what? Screw work on election day.

Either call-in on Election Day, take the day off or have it off as a National Holiday. It doesn’t matter if being off on Election Day would increase voting tun-out.  We have to stop the madness in America; we have to throw off this, ‘work until you drop,’ yoke American Big business has used to harness American workers.

American companies and big business have come to value profit more than life, and it’s wrong.

American’s should be off on Election Day–it shows and teaches respect for the process; the same for President’s Day. Businesses should close and Americans should use President’s Day to remember the leaders that have helped shape our country and World. Someone once said that actions speak louder than words. It’s true, our children watch what we do at least as much as they listen to what we say. Look both ways; it’s bed time; eat your veggies: how’s all that jabbering working for you as a parent? No, leaders, parents, teachers, workers and politicians should show the way, walk the walk as well as talk the talk. We all need to stop making work the point.

The work ethic in America is bonkers, and we should keep all our Holidays and add Election Day and President’s day to them. We should also throw in four, ‘ the weather is too nice to work,’ days to boot. Farmer’s knew their horses needed to rest; American workers need a rest, too.

What’s nuts about having election Day off? Here’s what’s nuts: we used to not have just President’s Day off when I was young, but Jefferson’s, Washington’s and Lincoln’s birthdays off! It’s true! These three days used to be school holidays and many businesses closed as well. More, every business, but for a very few, closed EVERY Sunday! That’s right—just about no one worked on any Sunday—not ever.

The sky will not fall if America stops the madness and gives workers more time off during each work year.

The workers will drop if we don’t give them more rest, not the sky.

Think! Our American society used to give workers more days off than it does now and what happened? America boomed; that’s what happened. American workers were happier, they were better educated and they enjoyed our society.

Sixty years of decreased earnings (when adjusted for inflation), multitasking nightmares, skinnier staffs with additional work to do, the loss of pensions and less time off has reduced American workers to what we are now: an over worked under paid discontented work force.

The rulers, owners and greedy big businesses have been flushing American workers down the toilet for over sixty years now and it needs to stop.

Let’s turn things and us around.

Let’s take Election Day off so we can elect the right people to office. It’s often said that change comes slowly. You know what? Maybe not.  Maybe change is right around the corner; maybe the sun will come up on America. Maybe American voters can stop the madness.

I hope so.

Franque23


My wife recently told  a news story on T.V. to “Go Fund Yourself.” It broke me out in fits of laughter….as my wife often does. She’s smart, a wit-full companion that keeps me thinkin’. Thing is, my first editor of everything you’ve ever read from me is also sharp, and more helpful than you know…. Barbara sent me this tonight,, and I thought in our time of strife it might do us all good to take a look at the,’Will  to Survive’. It’s in all of us, to fight for existence, and that we shall prevail…just look at the trees: they lead the way.

Enjoy, and thanks again to Barbara for the link.

Peace, Franque23

Trees have been around for about 370 million years, and as you can see from these incredible pictures, there’s a good reason why they’ve survived for so long.  Whether they’re growing in the middle of gale-force winds, on the tops of rocky platforms, inside concrete tunnels, or even growing out of each other, trees know how to survive in places that few living organisms can, which explains why the planet is host to around 3 trillion adult trees that cover an estimated 30% of the earth’s land.  Considering that plants produce the vast majority of the oxygen that we breathe, we should all think ourselves very fortunate that trees are as resilient as they are.  We wouldn’t even be here if they weren’t.

#1  A Place Of Enchantment
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#2  This Palm Tree Fell Over And Curved Right Back Up
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#3  This Tree Fell Over And Grew 4 More Trees Out Of Itself
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#4  The Only Tree That Survived The Tsunami In Japan Between 70,000 Trees. Now Protected And Restored.
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#5  Tree Of Life – Olympic National Park, Washington
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#6   A Tree’s Root Spill Over The Sidewalk
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#7   Nature FTW
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#8   A Tree Growing Through Speed Limit Sign
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#9  This Tree That Refuses To Die
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#10  This Tree Still Has Its Leaves Because Of The Light Shining On It
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#11  Life Finds A Way
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#12  Tree Roots Extend Across A Gap To The Mainland For Nutrients
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#13  Life Finds A Way
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#14  Ta Promh Temple In Cambodia
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#15  Striving
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#16  Someone Hung His Skates On A Small Tree When He Was Younger. He Forgot He Had Left Them There And Found Them Years Later

#17  A Tree Growing On Another Tree
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#18 This Tree Is Growing Out Of Another Tree
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#19 This Tree Grew Out Of The Stump Of A Dead Tree And Then The Stump Rotted Away
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#20 A Tree Grows From Third Floor Window
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#21 Life Finds A Way
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#22 I Spent Ages Staring At This Tree Before Taking This Pic. I Hope You Find It As Fascinating As I Did
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#23 This Floating Island That Grew At The End Of A Partially Sunken Tree
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#24 This Wooden Chair My Parents Bought Started Sprouting Leaves
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#25 The Old Piano Tree
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#27 One Tree On My Street Refused To Accept Winter
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#28 My Sister’s Tree Is Eating Her Fence
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#29 This Tree Growing Through A Fence
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#30 Life,Uh… Finds A Way
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I’ve always loved seeing movie footage of the past. It makes this short film below that more special in that I was born and raised just outside of The Big Apple and considered it my stompin’ grounds during my High School days.

More, I’ve had a couple of odd coincidencedinks in life that revolve around my early years spent in New York City. I’d often spent time in  New York City, The Village,  roaming the walk down shops after munching on a seventy-five cent pizza slice. By far, the Leather shops were my favorite to visit. I was immediately attracted to the smell of finished leather goods, their shine, polished to deep warm browns or beige and tan colors.  One shop owner in particular was a bit more out going than most, and that was wrapped by a quick sense of humor all tied together by tremendous wit. His name was, Byan. He stood tall with penetrating dark eyes that glowed above the flash of  his smile. Our conversations were never long but they played in my head usually throughout the following days. Mysterious, that was the word for this fellow.

Fast forward eight or so years and I’m attending a bluegrass festival in Hog Town Creek, just outside Gainesville, Florida. I was singing lead for an agent at that time, traveling to gigs with one of the three bands he managed. I’m thinking my pay was about a flat 75 dollars per week. The music drew me to the festival and there the smell of leather goods at a nearby booth attracted my attention. Sure enough, it was, Byan, running a leather stand. It turned out his parents owned a ranch nearby and he’d left NYC to return to his family’s home. He wanted to learn how to play guitar and I was intrigued with leather work… We traded skills and I ended up being a leather worker running three shops for the next 14 years.

Of course, there’s more. I got to know my wife of 38 years while  learning the leather trade from, Byan. We made items for the local leather shops in Gainesville—there were about four of them in town. I often worked on sewing leather hats of all shapes and sizes. A few years later found my wife and I working into all hours of the night sewing wallets and visors as we started our first leather business. It was years later when all of this came to circle.

Thirty years later, my wife and I visited Denton, England, along with her Brother and his wife. It was there that my wife’s family were once hatters. It turns out they started in Denton and finally made it to New York City and I suspect made ,’a killing,’ as they say in retail. Why? Well just look at what everyone is wearing in the film below. Wow. The story of my wife’s ,’Hatters,’ family is also amazing, but that’s for another time.

Enjoy this glimpse into another era; a time gone by.

One more thing: the air seems much more polluted in this film than it appears to be in New York City now. Maybe too much,’Clean,’ coal back then?

Franque23


(Please note the book recommendation below this post.)

Of course, the President’s so-called tax breaks are simply theft from the American workers to give more money to the already super wealthy—everyone knows this. And dropping controls on pollution dumping into our streams and rivers is completely stupid. Everyone knows this as well, even if they drink the, “Kool-aid.” But,  why do some people support agenda’s that they know are wrong?

Definition of brainwashing 

1: a forcible indoctrination to induce someone to give up basic political, social, or religious beliefs and attitudes and to accept contrasting regimented ideas(Merriam-webster)

That’s right. People support ideas and practices that they know are wrong because they have been brainwashed to think differently about what they know is true. This is what has happened to the Trump supporters. And, really, I don’t blame Trump’s supporters for their beliefs as much as I want them to understand what has happened to them.  We need Trump’s supporters to, ‘Snap out of it.’ We need our republican counterparts in this society to  wake up and smell the coffee; we need to understand that many of us have been indoctrinated to vote against our own well-being.

The GOP regime has relentlessly assaulted the American voters with a barrage of fear-loaded slogans that aren’t true, (Immigrants are taking your jobs—not true.)slide-of- mouth motto’s (America, love it or leave it—against all American principles!) Make America great again!—ha!, and the famously flawed,’Trickle Down theory’.) It’s all a lie told over and over again,.

The verbose reiterated barrage against pollution controls, banking regulation, the U.N, the Gay, the Woman and less fortunate are all lies propelled into the minds of so many. And all of them by means of one simply truth: say anything well enough, long enough and often enough and it doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not—people will believe what they have been taught to believe through repetition.

But is Trump a fool? Many point to his mid-range popularity and say, “It ain’t so.” But here’s the thing: Trump’s standings, polling, none of that changes what he is: wrong in just about everything.

Trump’s poor vision with regard to pursuing fossil fuel development verses renewable exploration and expansion, his disregard for increasing pollution, human rights, specifically women’s rights and minorities, his attack on EAP standards and lack of support for science advancement are a few hot spots to focus on when it comes to thinking Trump a fool.

So much about this man is wrong and stupid, yet so many cheer him on??? I’m thinking a fool can win at cards, but not at life. I hope I’m right. Right now, we’re in the mists of a Russian(and others) financed brain-washing campaign of the American people. The results aren’t pretty.

Like it or not, our population has been worked on by powerful interests so that we’ve become divided from one another. We’ve been told that the under educated cannot reason or fend for themselves(not true); we’ve been told that ‘Southerner’s,’ are racists and that blacks and minorities are somehow inferior(not true). And to what gain? Remember, United we stand; divided we fall. This is why some American’s have been taught to hate and disregard reason. The powerful want to control us, use us, and all to their own gain at our cost.

The first thing to teach an indoctrinated, brainwashed person is that they have been. This is the first step back to reason.

Marching, yelling and sign holding might help identify our difference of opinion, but teaching and informing our populace about the tools being used in our society to cause us to work against our own interest is of utmost importance. We need to identify those mechanisms present in America that work to divide us and cause us to not protect our own welfare and root them out.

Now is a great time to understand we have been brainwashed as a people. Now is a great time for us to trump this brainwashing and get back together.

 

Franque23

History can teach us a lot and, Revolution is not a dinner Party, by Compesti, gives good insight into China’s Mao zedong revolution..maybe at your local library…too.

https://www.amazon.com/Revolution-Dinner-Party-Chang-Compestine/dp/0312581491


Okay so I’m not talkin’ about the boob-heads in Congress, but, to be thoroughly transparent, the ones that go walking by—not that I’ve ever noticed.

So, let’s get this straight, or straighter.(yes-I’m a guy)

It is all about what we know and hope to learn. Otherwise, we might as well live inside a brown bag and bang about in it for the time we live. Either we look out and try to learn from history  as well as the present or we live like a snail clinging to the side of a Grand Canyon wall without a clue.

But, what does this have to do with boobs?

I’m not sure when we all started to notice…

(1957- Sophia Loren glimpses an eye-full of Jane Mansfield.)

Back in my day (and on another planet) the expressions we used to endear ourselves to our friends as we corrected their thinking often didn’t sound so friendly. Thing is, they were. When we called someone a,’boob,’ what we meant was,’Hey-you’re wrong, but you’re part of our group so get it right.’ My world of friends moved along with a crap load of expressions that somehow cheered us up! “Hey, brain dent,” was a nice way of saying hello. “You’re a mistake looking to happen,” could ring loud and clear at any moment along with, jerk, dope, bozo, buffoon, schmuck, doofus, klutz, nincompoop, nimrod(predecessor of dick-head if you ask me) and, of course, boob-head. Yep, the lingo connected us all through a barrage of slander and smiles. And thank goodness I was born when pillock and snollygoster had gone out of fashion-that would’ve been embarrassing.

“You boob!” first bounced its way into our visceral in the book, Tropic of Cancer, in 1930. My time meant Play Boy was propping up large Boobs. That lit a racy fire laced by a litany of terms: twins, headlights, leaders, points, jugs was common, hangers never made sense in my young crowd, sweater puppies worked but, strawberry cream? No, I don’t think so… Hooters, yes, and way before the chain so call us all psychic.

It’s not just men that celebrate the boob.

This is a picture of a young Marilyn  Monroe. Is there anything missing?

I’m really not sure;

I am sure she had to bare all to make the movie scene.

And Dolly,( ‘I have not had surgery’) yeah, she seemed to grow.

Notice any difference?

Just asking?

Yep. I do think it was when I was young that the preference for large breast took hold in our society…and I have to wonder, no, I know, how that made/makes a large percentage of girls and women feel about themselves.

It’s all completely wrong, almost an obscene blight in our society that how one aspect of a women can define their over all appeal. But, it may have always been this way. Way back in the day—like 250 years ago or so—large (we call them voluptuous) women were all the rage. The skinny women of today would be outcast, shamed, no matter the size of their breast. So, it’s all odd…

No, these breasts aren’t natural……

Thing is, this entire post is about breast, and what their size has done to us as a society, and the people it’s hurt…

Okay-here’s the point.

According to a report released by the American Association of Plastic Surgeons, 279,143 breast augmentations were performed in 2015. For those who are keeping track, that’s a 31% increase from the number performed back in 2000. Yes, the American obsession with abundance has officially gone ‘breastal’.

http://www.alternet.org/sex-amp-relationships/big-boob-love-what-life-large-breasts”

According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, breast implants are now the number one cosmetic procedure in the United States. How ironic is it then that a procedure that is undertaken to supposedly enhance a woman’s self-esteem has resulted in a finding that women who get breast implants are at least three times more likely to commit suicide.

http://www.salon.com/2013/08/17/9_weird_facts_about_breasts/”>http://www.salon.com/2013/08/17/9_weird_facts_about_breasts

See? This breast thing is a mess. I’m thinking this whole ‘MeToo’ movement will get us out of this dumb, fascination with breast and help us guys, at least, focus on the female’s being. That would be nice, enlightening, a step in the right direction.

Heck, we might even drop one hundred terms men use for breasts and call them, well, breasts. Men are sometimes called, ‘dick-head,’ for a reason.

A gown for the awards..okay?

But, can man ever learn not to afflict a physical attribute on to a woman and attached it to what she is worth? This is the question and trial for the next generation…..good luck. I’m on your side but, for now, boobs R us.

Franque23

 

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There’s a morning wind.

Today, from where I sit, the breeze will reach the sea some sixty miles off as it blows east. There, the translucent waves of green and blue roll beneath the calling gulls as the cooling, wet shore line comforts the feet of those strolling by. The shell white sand of the beach waits to be renewed or reclaimed by the pounding surf, and beyond it rises beige, wispy sea oats and dark green sea grapes that root in the dunes. A transforming landscape of sand and grass rises and falls to form a panorama that seems a dried mirror image of the ocean’s undulating surface. The oats will sway in the breeze much like sea weed moves with the ocean current. Here, two realms so different remain joined as one. The wind will touch it all.

It’s a peaceful thought as my coffee scents the air.

There was a time I thought I’d end up living along the shore, in the wind, with the sun, with the sounds and smells of the sea. Mom did as a child in, Recife’, Brazil, and somehow I dreamed I’d be as lucky. She took me to the shore often and taught me the ways of the sea, the surf, the hot sand and how the tiniest shell could sometimes be the most spectacular of the lot found that day. There were those sand crabs to dig after as they burrowed only to be caught so they might wiggle in my palm. We went to the ocean as a family and soon that vast, blue lined horizon became as much a part of ours as dad’s backyard apple blossoms.

Mom by the sea.

Sometimes I wonder if our dreams die like we do, or if they exist forever.

I’ve a good cup of coffee, but the memories are so much better. The wind entices me to wonder. When did I give up on that dream to live by the sea? I should have written the date somewhere.

But, I think I came to Florida in 1971 , in part, to be by the sea.

My wife and I have always visited the sea—our hearts beat with the waves, the light, the clouds and all those rolling, crashing waves.

A unique understanding comes when a person interacts with something as large as a mountain range, a desert, an expansive ocean or anything so vast as the diamond night sky. There’s a sense of oneness with the pebble, sand or shell at your feet, or single star overhead——they are so much like the size of us when compared to the entirety of life.

Ask a mountain climber, a diver or those who love to walk the desert why they do what they do. They will think, ‘Because I do’, and then they will offer words about this or that, words that can never fully explain the gut of the matter. Perhaps, the best way to answer is to say, “The majestic helps clear the clutter.”

Lake Bonaparte has a beauty each day, though different from one day to the next.  The views allow the heart to rest.

We all need to clear the clutter in our heads—the majestic world is our best reflection, our best chance to right the wrongs in our thinking. Our environment is us; say hello.

We need to make peace with ourselves.

Do you remember being ten and testing out a new pair of sneakers? How fast you ran; how you seemed to fly: you’d never be undone!

I’m the 8ish year old with his hand on his hip….and black speed-o

Growing up is fascinating and maybe we never stop owning that same self amazement throughout our lives. Maybe, internally, we all hunger for the truth, a correction in our way of thinking that sets us in place, a certain notion that helps identity our true sense of being in the universe.

My sister and I still meet at the ocean whenever we can…this is Roatan.

Maybe, this understanding is why we yearn to face the magnificent spectrum of life as it appears before us from place to place. It’s more than humbling; it’s being united.

Let’s get together. Let’s listen to the morning wind; it whispers the truth. Good morning.

Franque23.

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