Just a Second.

Time is a dimension, but it’s a lot weirder than that. It’s relative, too. And, from our human perspective, really confusing. It doesn’t matter whether one considers it in a grand geologic sense, as in, was it the Big Bang that made the dinosaurs deaf, or in a more immediate context, like, is the toast burning.

They’re always telling us that time is elusive. I mention this, not just because last week it was my birthday, though that doesn’t help, but, because every time you try to pin it down, it has moved ahead.

Memory doesn’t help. Remember that time you fell in love and everything got complicated? That may seem like only yesterday, but it was twenty years ago. No, twenty-three! Those prescriptive drugs in the cabinet aren’t from last summer, they’re four and a half years old. Your kids really don’t live with you any more. And, you really are more mature, more responsible, and older than you think.

When middle age occurs, it’s easy to lose track. There are so many memories, so much experience, so many important things you have to do, that living in the moment seems not just a spiritual imperative, but a huge relief.

At my house, time and its mechanical representatives are everywhere. The DVD player is always blinking 12:00 am. The cable box. The oven. Up in the corner of the computer. My alarm clock. Even, the phone! I have to say, upon consideration, there’s another, deeper meaning to that alarm clock, than I once thought.

The real problem is that each of these timepieces tells a different story. My bedside clock is ten minutes fast. The one in the bathroom, twenty minutes. The oven clock runs slow. The DVD never changes and, without making a phone call, the only one I can really trust is in the car. There are reasons for these variations, but, right now, I can’t remember what they are. I don’t wear a watch, because they make me nervous. It would probably be inaccurate, anyway.

It seems as if all these clocks are trying to tell me something. As if, Time had a message. But it’s a lot more impersonal that that. It’s a force we must reckon with. It moves in only one direction. The great sages of the ages have always advocated living in the present and only the present. That’s good enough for me. I’m going to join them, before it’s too late.

Roses Are Red

Oh, Sweetheart, be mine.

It’s hard to argue with that. Each February, in the midst of the desolate, the cold, the long wait for spring, I start thinking about Valentine’s Day. Or, as it used to be known, St. Valentine’s Day.

St. Valentine. What a guy. He was a martyr for love. That’s about the limit for a romantic. Valentine’s Day is celebrated around the world.

One billion cards are sent each year, with all kinds of messages. Some are eloquent, some plainspoken. Many simply say, ‘I love you.’ Or, as we say it in Danish, ‘Jeg elsker dig?’

I also like the way these guys say it:

Hawaiians – “Aloha wau ia oi”
Italians – “Ti amo.”
Portuguese – “Eu amo te.” (Pronounced, eiu amu chee.)
And Zulus – “Mena tanda wena.”

However you say it, the meaning is clear, direct, and simple. As a great philosopher, Wayne Fontana, once told his buddies, The Mindbenders, It started long ago In the Garden of Eden When Adam said to Eve Baby, you’re for me!

For the sake of fairness, I will mention that there exists an anti-Valentine movement. Antivalentinism. That’s harsh. It’s populated by a bunch of curmudgeons who, because of all sorts of misunderstandings, have closed themselves off from love and, in an effort to fend off loneliness (and, perhaps, madness), have banded together and are thoroughly grouchy.

In yesterday’s news, I read that the Saudi’s Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice (CPVPV) had forbidden the color red throughout the country. Those guys don’t get it. A rose in any other color would be as sweet and all they’ve done is to create a black market for red roses.

It’s a measure of our true inclinations that we have a holiday that celebrates love. No matter how many cards there are or how many flowers are sent, it’s impossible to commercialize love.

The beloved poet, Willie Bryant, once said,

Love is beautiful
So gorgeous and divine
Feels like a thousand Mickey Mouses
Running up and down your spine

So, Baby, my Sweetie, my Dear, my One and Only Love, let it be me.

Tonight, We Caucus.

Tonight, we caucus. That doesn’t sound very romantic, but if, by romantic, we mean striving against the odds, acting on love, and taking a chance, I think it will be a fine romance.

Things are a bit bleak. You know what I mean. I don’t need to make a list and I don’t want to, because I know it would be longer than I want to imagine and it would just be depressing.

I can’t even vote at this gathering. Being a slow, unorganized, uninformed citizen has its costs. This is a minor one, but I regret that I didn’t declare a party affiliation. I flattered myself by assigning Independent to my name, as if declaring one way or another would seal my fate.

In school auditoriums and in meeting places of all sorts, those of us living in caucus states get to exercise our rights and discuss and, ultimately, endorse a potential candidate for President. It isn’t voting in November, but it could be just as important. And, most importantly, this is something we do as a community.

Yes, it’s politics and that word and activity has connotations that make us crazy, but, by actually participating in this process, we can begin to change all that and combine our energies to move it beyond where it is at the moment.

That’s what I think is romantic about it – we’ll be together and each citizen will have a voice. We won’t be muttering to ourselves as we exit the voting booth; we’ll be talking to each other. Our involvement will make us part of something bigger than we are as individuals. Each of us will be hoping that maybe this someone we endorse will bring us closer to who we want to be as a country. It doesn’t hurt to have a leader, as long as he is someone who supports your freedoms.

Even though I can’t vote tonight (my fault), I can be there, take part, and feel proud and grateful for a process that should never be abandoned. So, let’s get out there and let the caucuses begin!