Rock On!

If you were to say that my youngest boy, George likes to play the guitar. It would be like saying that the desert is a little on the dry side or the sea is a little salty.He is actually very good. In fact, he rocks!The day that we took cousins to the airport we were going to go straight on to the Edinburgh Zoo as it was a rare, free admission day. Sadly the traffic was horrid and we couldn't even get close to the zoo. As we headed back out of the city, we passed a guitar shop. It was open! I didn't have anywhere else we needed to be as the zoo was no longer an option so I parked up and we went in.George had one of those Wayne's World momentsbut for George is is not a 64 Classic White Stratocaster. For my boy it is the Gibson ES-335. The really sweet sales guy in the shop actually got it off the wall for him. After checking that he had no big belt buckles or zips that would harm the finish on this fine instrument, he let him play it! He had to phone is his dad and tell him. "Dad! You will never guess what I am doing right now . . ."Then they let him go into the soundproof room and plug the thing in - WITH EFFECTS PEDALS! He had a wonderful time! Please note the Gibson Les Paul (1952) gold top behind George in the last photo. It costs thousands and thousands. (£11,K) We didn't even dare to touch it!The only thing that would have made him happier would have been for me to say that we could put it on the credit card. That isn't going to happen, but I was happy to stand there and let him admire the fine sound and craftsmanship.

Obama urges 'new black mindset'

Mr Obama said the "pain of discrimination" was still felt in the US US President Barack Obama has told America's oldest civil rights organisation that African Americans should take charge of their own lives.

French Citizenship - Chapter Too Many To Count

One more year to go.That was the official word from the amazingly efficient fonctionnaire (if that isn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is) at the sous-préfecture in Béziers.My dossier has been sent on to the next level for review, to the Minister of the Interior I believe.So I wait. Patiently.Thus far the process has caused a bit of stumbling and a hiccup or two, required a train trip, a lot of check writing, and brought the Gendarmes around for a chat.More than a year has passed since I dropped off my substantial, 50+ page dossier at the Mairie for the first time, only to have it immediately returned due to a disagreement the sous-préfecture had with some dates. It was finally accepted several months later but was then held up by the delay of my Carte de Résident.Now it is complete. And it is out there. Somewhere. Hopefully not lost under a stack of other dossiers or shoved into the depths of someone's desk drawer.One more year.Anyone want to bet that it will take longer than that? I think the odds are pretty good...

Monkey See Monkey Do

I remember vividly going over to Bec’s house as a youngin' wanting to:a) Dress up in wigs and wear the patent leather high heels with red polka dotsb) Go out into her play shed and find salamanders, many of which looked like those high heeled shoesc) Play Paper Boy on her Nintendo consoleThere were various other games we played (Zing, “how many chews does it take to swallow a Dorito,” "girls with boyfriends"—in the half developed new homes on Stratton Dr, and don’t even get me started on the school bus ridiculousness that we created…why did we try to convince that one girl we spoke Chinese? And what were we thinking with that robot/rubber girl game?)I was not blessed (cursed?) with Nintendo as a child, so I resorted to coaxing my friends into playing when I had a playdate. And then there was the double bonus friends who had junk food AND Nintendo…Sarah at the end of our street was a warehouse for Twix. While I would never consider myself a “gamer” as a child, I do have memories of getting to steal a few moments to play video games. Why I bring this up is two-fold. First, my status of novice game player was quite evident if you ever watched me play Nintendo. Let’s take Excite Bike.For every jump, or dodging of an oil slick, I would use my hands to “jump” or “dodge.” And I am pretty certain I did a lot of tongue chewing. I think I believed if I "jumped" my hands hard enough, the bike would go higher. It was as though I thought I was playing a Wii. (Not that I have even played one before.) The only time my physicality worked was if I had a friend who had that track and field Nintendo game. Although--let's be honest. You would just jump off the mat for an extended period of time with the long jump, and jump back on. Anyway, I am someone who tends to mimic things with my body. It is diagnosed as UMR: uncontrollable mimicking reaction.I keep thinking of this when I, say, feed Miles. As he opens his mouth, I immediately open my mouth in tandem subconsciously thinking that the wider I open my mouth, the wider Miles will open his. Eric called me on this the other day and I began to realize how much of his life his mom has been playing a game of copy cat. If he screeches, I screech. When he crawls, I am compelled to get on the floor and crawl with him. I find myself playing monkey see, monkey do. It’s an innate primal urge that I have become acutely aware of recently. It started in infancy..Baby: cooMom: cooBaby: YawnMom: (faux) YawnBaby: stick tongue outMom: stick tongue outBaby: poopMom: po…wait. I am going too far.Eric and I both converse with Miles through his new screeches. Our house is full of wild yells as we echo his bursts of noise. Miles may not use words to mean much (his one friend at childcare only says "ball" and "clue." Clue?!?! That one has me), but he is so loud now. He sort of hums when he crawls and has started to explore yelling to get your attention. I am not sure if it is cute or grating. Hmmm...perhaps both.Second (yes, I did have a twofold intention to this post—see above). I attended a great talk by Richard Louv, the author of Last Child in the Woods. (READ IT) Providing ambiance, the talk was given during one heck of a thunderstorm that incited some electrical trickery as the power went out at a number of strategically positioned times. It added some much needed light to his sentiments. He is a wonderful author, but I am a stickler for engaging presenters. I must give him credit because he did toss in the word perfunctory and that won points with me. He actually acknowledged that he is not a good public speaker, and I have to agree. But the message was clear and passionate—our children need to spend more time outside! Interestingly, he did not blame video games for the problem—it’s not that they are not A problem, but the problem is more insidious and dangerous. He spoke a lot of that special place in nature we all had as a kid that we retreated to—a wooded area where leaves, sticks and dirt became ingredients for imaginary pie, or a park where boulders served as “home” for a made-up family with a baby named Tabitha (I loved that name). While I did have great times at my friends’ houses playing video games on occasion and don't think that my exposure caused irreparable damage, so much of my childhood was spent outside playing all sorts of games both with friends and family as well as all by myself. And yet, children today do not have that connection with nature in the same way. The tag line that kept coming up in the talk was "no child left inside." What’s changed? Well, what hasn’t changed? I really do suggest reading the book as the elements of the problem are multifactorial, and too vast for me to go into.What I did reflect on during my car ride home as thunder shook my poor Subaru is that it is obvious that Miles loves being outside, but even inside Miles’s favorite place to be (besides with his two feet pushed up against my chest and with a handful of my hair in our bed from 5am-6:30am) is standing on our couch, looking outside of the big picture window. He loves to see the runners, dog walkers, dump trucks, cars, and don’t get me started if Pappi comes to the door. I can just see him absorbing nature even from the confines of inside. He looks up at the sky when he hears a helicopter or darts his eyes down the road when a car approaches. It's like his version of a big screen TV.This weekend we got to spend the majority of the days outside (with a good smattering of sun tan lotion). Although Miles cannot help us with the lawn mowing (he does try to trim the scragglers by eating them) or planting, I think his senses being inundated with nature at this early age has to make a difference. It is also times like these I am glad we opted for the push mower. Miles chilled on the blanket with his grass clippings, puffs and toys while I mowed the yard right next to him. No gas going in his face, no noise pollution and I got some much needed grass cutting done! Now, planting in pots was a different story as he tried to crawl all over the pots and eat the begonias. Miles goes for walks every day at the ELC, and sometimes more than 1 time. We also try to take him for 45 minute walks or runs every day after work. Even tonight as he was having a meltdown, we committed to going out as a family to walk around the 'hood. Miles immediately calmed down and was lounging in his umbrella stroller, kicking his feet, and pulling his toes to his mouth enjoying life.In honor of a belated Earth Day I challenge you all to spend at least 45 minutes cumulatively of your day outside—weather permitting. I am not suggesting that we all don't have days where we become a part of the furniture, nor am I suggesting that no one should ever play video games (heck, someone needs to have them for Miles to play as a treat--ha ha), but I believe we owe it to ourselves to get outside and use our senses again--unplugged; and that means no iPods, no cell phone conversations. You'd be surprised what nature has to say.And for added interest, I suggest watching Frontline's Poisoned Waters online. I have somehow acquired restless leg syndrome and cannot for the life of me get to sleep these days, so I watched this late last night. It really makes you think...especially about chicken poop (and I thought I was obsessed with baby poop). On a completely unrelated note, here are some of the newest pictures of Miles in action at the ELC. You'll notice his older buddy S is pushing him in the wagon, and in the very bottom one, Miles is finally getting to act in a psuedo "big brother" role. Though, I think he was really just eyeing one of M's hanging toys to chew.

Gayle Muhs And Sheila Muhs

These two beauties are Gayle and Sheila Muhs. Gayle, 45, and Sheila, 45, are VERY protective of their privacy. They put up a sign in front of their property in Liberty County, Texas that reads Trespassers will be shot. Survivers (sic) will be reshot!! Smile I will.” They mean it, too - They once took a shot at their next door neighbor.
Nice people, the Muhs.
The Coffeys are nice people too. Donald, 36, his wife Becky, and their two children Donald Jr., 7, and Destiny, 5, are described by their neighbors as nice, simple country folk who never bothered anybody and were always there to lend a helping hand. They enjoyed taking their vehicles off road in the woods near their Westlake, TX subdivision.
Friday night, were at the end of a daylong excursion on off-road vehicles through wooded paths along the Trinity River. Donald Coffey Drove a Jeep with his son Donald Jr., a family friend, Patrick Cammack, and Cammacks son. Patrick Cammacks wife, Cindy Nelton, drove an SUV along with Becky and Destiny Coffey. An unidentified 11-year-old boy was also with the group.
Around 9:00PM the men stopped to use the bathroom and got out of the Jeep near the Muhses’ home when a woman’s voice boomed through the darkness, Nelton said. Sheila Muhs cussed out the group and told them to get off their property, even though they were on a public road. A shot rang out immediately afterwards as Sheila opened up on them with a 12 gauge shotgun.
“And then I heard a shot and our windows were blown out,” Nelton said.
Nelton, who never saw a shooter, said she immediately stomped on the gas and screamed, “We’ve got kids in this vehicle! Y’all need to stop shooting!”
A second shot, and possibly others, came as Sheila Muhs handed the shotgun to her husband Gayle. Nelton said she sped to safety near a bridge, unaware of the Jeep’s location.
Becky Coffey opened the door to the SUV to go look for her husband and son. When the inside light came on, Destiny was in the back seat screaming.
“She said, ‘Mama, they shot me. Mommy, they shot me.’ There was blood all over her,” Nelton said.
Nelton rushed the girl to a nearby fire station while Becky Coffey frantically searched on foot for her other family members. The victims were taken to Memorial Hermann Hospital via air ambulance.
Meanwhile, Sheila Muhs had called 911. Bishop said the woman told a dispatcher: “They’re running over our levee in big-wheel vehicles, and I shot them.” FYI, The Levee belongs to the Westlake subdivision, not the Muhses. Neither does the road that the victims were shot on.
Donald Coffey Jr. was shot in the head and face, and died at the hospital Sunday afternoon. Destiny Coffey and her father, Donald Sr., who were both hit in the shoulder by shotgun pellets, were treated and released.
The Muhses are charged with aggravated assault and are being held in the Liberty County Jail in lieu of $25,000 bail each. The couple is expected to appear in state district court in the coming week.
Authorities are expected to upgrade the charge to capital murder, Liberty County Sheriff’s Cpl. Hugh Bishop said.
Liberty County Sheriffs Department Chief Deputy Ken DeFoor told reporters that the shooting was the most violent reaction to something so blatantly, blatantly minor hes ever seen. He said the families in the two cars had done nothing illegal and they never set foot on the Muhs property.
I almost forgot to thank Electra for tipping me off to this story. This is the kind of thing that really get my blood boiling - theres nothing worse than people who are so selfish and self centered that theyve lost all compassion for others. I wonder if they realize the gravity of what theyve done, or if they even care. Somehow I have the feeling that if Gayle and Sheila Muhls are upset, its because theyre sitting in a jail cell for shooting some damned trespassers.
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Hail in July

We had a craving for American style pizza - our first since returning from China, so we went to one of the local pizza places. It was a long wait for our pizza but well worth it when it came! Here's Sophie trying to be patient. Peter and Jack's 15 year old cousin, Alex is here visiting us for a week. The boys LOVE having him around and they rarely let him out of their room! Sue, also getting hungry as we wait for our pizza to be delivered. OK, Chinese friends, here's an authentic American pizza restaurant for you... and it smells so GOOD inside! Gosh, we live in a small town! We ran into one of our old friends, Scott Simmons who was also coming in for lunch. The monsoon started in the afternoon as it usually does this time of year, and we got not only rain, but HAIL! Jack had to go out and stand in it to see how it felt. The courthouse across the street, looking through all of the hail! The streets are so deserted compared to China! This is about 1pm on a Thursday... where are all of the bicycles carrying people rushing around under their rain ponchos??Alex, outside, checking out the storm... The next stop was the local ice cream store - actually frozen yogurt, at the TCBY... The boys enjoyed their ice cream... ... and I saw this old cowboy "chewing the fat" with some other customers... you wouldn't see someone like him in China!

Personal Growth from the Inside Out

Lu Ting ate at a Greek restaurant because Papadopoulos, the owner, made really good fried rice. Each evening he would come in and order “flied lice”. This always caused Papadopoulos to fall down with laughter. Sometimes he would have two or three friends standing nearby just to hear Lu Ting order his “flied lice.” Eventually the Chinese’s pride was so hurt that he took a special diction lesson just to be able to say “fried rice” correctly. The next time he went to the restaurant he said very plainly, “Fried rice, please.” Unable to believe his ears, Papadopoulos asked, “What did you say?” Lu Ting shouted, “You heard what I said, you Gleek plick!” ~ A story from Joy: The Happiness That Comes from Within Why Inner Work? A reader asked me once – why is this entire blog about inner work? What about changing from the outside? Even the series on changing behaviours focused on inner meditations, and nothing external. In my experience, true change begins from within, from the consciousness that underlies everything else. There is a time for external work – for example, when one needs fast results – but otherwise, we are just covering up the real problem. Who You Are Speaks Too Loudly Perhaps an example would make it easier to see. Many popular books and workshops on social and dating skills teach external change. Touch creates bonding, they say, so strategically touch your target on the elbow as you speak. They teach structures of conversation, ways of listening, how to project your voice, proper body language, and on and on it goes. Sometimes, this fools those around you long enough to “work”. But at best, the eager student has merely learnt to be a carbon copy of someone who has really “got it”. I remember meeting a woman once. Her perfectly practiced words and gestures told me she cared; her eyes revealed something else. She seemed cold, selfish, and manipulative, and that was all that mattered. Most around her saw right through her facade after a few days. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said – Who you are speaks so loudly I cant hear what youre saying. One Door Closes, Another Opens I began personal development in a similar way. I was shy and lacked self-respect, and I was sick of it. So I tried developing confidence from the outside in. I tried a thousand and one things. I took on a teaching role in a small institution, I forced myself to meet strangers in a bar, and I forced myself to try public speaking. The first few times I was so nervous I nearly fell over. But eventually I became comfortable and was even having fun. Many of my new friends called me a social butterfly, impressed with how comfortable I made them feel, how easy I struck up a conversation. Did that mean I was genuinely confident and secure? No. I had only changed superficially – I had learnt to say “fried rice”. I felt surprised and even a little confused at the compliments I received, for they were aimed at the facade I was hiding behind, not me, never for me. Underneath it all, I was still the same little boy, playing dress-up in a superhero costume. Instead of becoming happier, I became stiffer, and more on guard. I was deathly afraid my mask will fall off, that my secret identity –together with all my fear, my bitterness, and my jealousy – would be exposed. And so no real change occurred. These unresolved issues manifested in many ways, an irrational fear of intimacy, for example. So what if I was now charming and smooth? When a woman got close enough, this fear arose subconsciously and without even knowing why, I would immediately sabotage the relationship, sometimes just cutting it off without a word. As Osho said – this is not the way of transformation. One door closes, another opens. Changing the outer is easy, but the real work consists in changing the underpinning of everything else – our inner consciousness. Another Perspective Nothing can change permanently without a corresponding shift in our consciousness. There was a point in time I used to smoke heavily, and this habit was driven by the same insecurities and fears I had struggled with for most of my adult life. Before I realised this, I applied the usual quitting techniques. I forced myself to quit through sheer willpower, and succeeded – for a while. However, each time I was stressed, whenever I was reminded of my insecurities, I found myself reaching for another cigarette. Sometimes I used a substitute; in fact the cigarette habit was itself a replacement for something else. It took a lot of work, but when I finally freed myself of those insecurities, these habits fell away on their own, with no need for replacements. And surprisingly, so did most of my other vices. This is why I dont agree with what many people shout about learning to love ourselves. Book a massage; treat yourself to a bubble bath; spend a day lounging in the sun. Find a new lover. Get more money, more possessions. Perhaps we are satisfied, relaxed, rejuvenated – but only for a while. But soon, very soon, everything comes rushing back, for who you are has not changed. The Transformation of Consciousness For some people, consciousness can change overnight. For most others, it is long, hard work. But it is the only work worth doing, for everything else falls into place. With a flowering consciousness, we develop courage to face the obstacles in any part of our life; we find a willingness to do what has to be done. We overcome the downwards pull of our pride, our anger, and our fears. Our consciousness determines our subjective experience of life – to a large extent, our very joy. A Newcomer’s Guide So how, exactly, do we do this? There are many approaches to inner work, and this blog covers my explorations of the best I’ve discovered, so go to the archives and start looking around! I’m also preparing a newcomer’s guide to UrbanMonk.Net, so look for that next. Stay tuned! Link Love In the personal development blog niche, there are a few up-and-comers, written with a lot of heart, that I’m proud to highlight here. The first is Seeking Mind by Sunny Jamiel. A mix of “standard” personal development and consciousness-oriented spirituality, with lots of free motivational wallpapers for his readers. A recent post you might like: 18 Truths about Life. Next is Quest for Balance by Lisis. Written with a lot of honesty and heart, and a lot of humour mixed in too. A recent post: The Beginner’s Guide to EXTREME Candle Meditation. Copyright UrbanMonk.Net