so wrong…Edison’s talking doll

We say this prayer with the kids when they’re ready to go to sleep.

I’d tell them to shut up if they sounded like this.

This was early marketing at it’s worst….and one of the first instances where a child was given a toy that set the tone of what the experience was going to be ….and didn’t allow them to use their own imaginations to control the “action”.

These dolls were marketed for about 6 weeks and cost what, in our current money, would be about $200.00.

The recording devices were fragile….and often didn’t survive the shipping to market.

Man.

It’s a spooky thing to hear a doll like this.

It’s not a good thing.

Here’s Mo Rocca talking to someone about these dolls.

Knowing about the history doesn’t make them any less spooky.

Shame on you, Mr. Edison.

Shame on you.

A Day in the Life….Bound for Nowhere

Here’s a young couple vlogging a typical day on the road….living in their Toyota camper.

“Young couple”?!

That’s how you get old….in your head…..talking like that.

That’s profiling, too….they may not be all that young.

And….look at what they’re driving!!

What a rig!

Part of my adventure moving through this life is constantly being aware of the fragility of the various beasts that carry me.

What would it be like to drive something so new and so nice?

Would it allow me to be less of a worrywart?

And….what business do they do that allows them to work on the road and support themselves?

I need to figure some of that stuff out….although I work on the road every day to support us all.

The difference with me is that my chunk of road that I work on never changes.

I could use a good road trip soon.

Like….real soon.

Here’s a link to BOUND FOR NOWHERE.

And….here’s a video of the thing they’re driving.

I’m jealous.

 

too cold…not cold enough

Here’s a Swedish woman named Jonna Jinton taking an ice bath.

That looks cold.

It was so hot on the mail route, riding around for 7 hours without air conditioning, delivering all the mail and packages.

This doesn’t look cold enough to cool me down on a hot day like today.

Maybe a Norwegian/Danish hybrid like me needs a nice fjord to swim around in every once in a while to get my head on straight?

Maybe a sauna… like a mail jeep ride….and then a dip in the icy lake would do me a wonder of good.

I’d like to be cool for once in my life.

Too cool.

rainbow trout vs. a peanut butter sandwich and a banana

Eating a peanut butter sandwich and a banana while delivering the mail can never compete with eating fresh rainbow trout cooked over a campfire.

It can’t compete.

There is no comparing the two experiences.

But, and I was telling Jenny this the other day, I get so hungry on the mail route that a peanut butter sandwich, wolfed down while I move between delivery points, tastes like ambrosia.

Not the ambrosia with the little marshmallows…..I’m talking about the kind of food that tastes like a small chunk of heaven….with a small “h”, of course.

I’m talking about deliciousness…..not little marshmallows.

It’s all about real need.

When you’re really hungry, the most mundane “meal” is delicious.

Still….a rainbow trout, cooked like this, would be memorably better than a peanut butter sandwich.

And…..what restaurant, no matter how many Michelin stars it got, could match this for a wonderful dining experience?

What imitation of majesty could come close to a sky full of stars and a cool mountain top breeze?

Funny the things we measure luxury by.

We’re funny creatures, for sure.

What do we know about luxury?

We’d be the ones complaing about manna.

slide into some peace

There’s a woman with a babe sitting next to me
She rides the crooked train into New York City
She hold that child on her bended knee
Whispers something only he could hear
She said I will always love you no matter what will come
I carried you inside myself the two of us are one
No matter how you fall down or how it comes undone
To me you will always be shining
And he stares into her brown eyes
Into the face of unconditional love
I see a man laying in the street
He left his motorcycle at a high rate of speed
In his eyes there’s a vacancy
But he seems to be, seems to be smiling
Ah maybe he was a Muslim a Christian or a Jew
I hope that he was laughing when off that bike he flew
But he struggled to believe just like me and you
As the ambulance is too late arriving
And he stares at the sky above
Into the face of unconditional love
Unconditional love
Sometimes I’m impossible sometimes a rage arose
Sometimes all the dreams are strewn across the floor
And I see myself reflected in your eyes
All the tragedy, the hope and fear
In my hour of dying the light is clear and clean
If it helps read from the bible don’t hook me up to those machines
Stay by my side as I slide
Into some peace
Give me strength over what I’m afraid of
In the face of unconditional love
Unconditional Love

 

Willy Porter “Unconditional”