Wisdom from 6062 miles away…

The Girl has settled into her university gig in Beirut.  It is beyond awe-inspiring to read her words as she shares details of her days getting acclimated to the people, culture and program.  From her earliest teen years, she has exhibited a quiet grace, and a “beyond her years” wisdom that has left me speechless on more than one occasion.

Tonight’s “update”?  Brought tears to my eyes as she shared unexpected insight.  Could not be more proud than when she brought the following possibility into my frame of reference – perhaps forever altering my perspective on that remarkable and gifted creature that shares my daily existence…

She’d read my last post – including the reference to the mess created by the random neural firings of Mr. Pickles, my canine life partner functionally retarded dog.  Because the dog has destroyed the rug where i was planning to install the billiards table, i had to regroup, adjusting plans for full “move in”.  Rather than get the pool table, i now have to address the underlying problem* and install ceramic tile.  To continue with the planned condo modifications, i moved forward with the purchase and installation of the home theater/audio system throughout my domain…

Sorry to hear about Pickles acting upon his dog signals and digging up the rug. Bastard. Gotta love him though, he just ain’t that smart. Or maybe he is and just wanted you to build up the home-theater/man-trap/man-cave first**? He knows that the theater guy he was cracker-dogging*** for would be the one to install it and that The Boy would become a constant fixture afterwards, and he just wants a buddy. The more I think about it, the more I think that Pickles is smarter than us all.

Perhaps i’ve completely misjudged the large, brown, and frequently aromatic, creature that shares my daily existence?  In an idiot savant way, perhaps the dog serves as a guiding force in my life?  Maybe he is my protector and “yoda”, teaching me the ways of life in his slow, slobbery and “get the fuck out from under my feet when i’m going down the stairs, you numb-nutted bastard” way?

So much to be gained from a fresh perspective…  Primary beneficiary?  The fur-encrusted destruction machine… who will live to see at least another week…


* Cheap and easy… yeah, i know.  But if i don’t take the occasional verbal bunny shot, then i’m losing points.  At least that’s how it works on the basketball court.

** “home-theater/man-trap/man-cave” perhaps requires some explanation.  The new condo is truly going to be my “bubble”.  Barbie Dream House for middle-aged party girl.  Several years ago, i decided i wanted a pool table – i enjoy billiards, but suck at it due to lack of practice.  i also decided i wanted an integrated whole-house audio system, multi-zone, all digital, remote controlled.  Oh, and ya just gotta get wall-mount HDTV, Blu-Ray and all the fixins if you’re going to do that!  The Boy has begun referring to the new place as “Mom’s Man Trap”.  At the same time, he refers to the theater room as his future “Man Cave” as there are no windows, no clock, and he will be able to cocoon there with no interaction with the outside world…  All i know?  i ain’t building this for anybody but me… but if it tends to collect boy toys?  Who am i to complain?

*** “Cracker-dogging” – ummm, perhaps that also requires explanation.  i believe the term can be attributed to James Herriot, from “All Creatures Great and Small” fame… To anyone who has ever seen it, you will know what it means… Sometimes, when playing, a dog will simply go bonkers, racing wildly around a room, doing banked turns off furniture, demonstrating great “tires” through abrupt directional changes at high speed.  Mr. Pickles – for reasons only known to him – had a powerful response to the gentleman who came to do the site assessment for home theater/audio installation.  For quite a while.  The Boy and i (not to mention the salesman) were laughing our asses off as 100 lbs of smokin’ fast dogmeat tore around the room demonstrating banked turns, frantic bursts of speed, ferrari-like ground-hugging maneuvers…and a big ol’ tongue flapping along beside him…

Calling Uncle Walt…

When i was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, i asked my sister, S – a 6 year breast cancer survivor – to help break the news to Mom.  Her reaction set the world record for self-absorption.  In fact, i wondered if she would simply implode*….

Earlier this week, i encountered it again.  This time, because i was pretty sure she was jacked up on anti-anxiety drugs**, and because i’ve simply crossed my tolerance threshold, i decided to be a bit more direct with her about this behavior…

Stepping out of the cath lab to allow the nursing staff to do icky medical things to Mom’s incisions, she and i sat in a waiting area.  We’d just learned that Mom will need double bypass.

S (shaking, on the verge of tears):  I can’t take this.  I don’t know what I’m going to do without her!  I’m not ready to let her go!

daisyfae: You really need to think about what Mom needs.  This isn’t about you right now.

S (working up some angry tears): You just don’t understand.  I need her.  None of you need her as much as I do.  You’ll never understand.

daisyfae: Look, we’re all circling the drain!  We can’t change the outcome, we can only affect the path.  Freaking out is not doing anything good for the path…

S: I don’t want to talk about this!  She’s not going to die!

daisyfae: Do me a favor.  Rent The Lion King.  Study the part about “the circle of life”.  Let me know what you think.


* oh, if it could only happen this way!

** clearly, an insufficient dosage….

yoda speaks…



“Annoying are you, daisyfae.  Out of my car you shall get…”

I’ve had a delightful opportunity to hang with yoda this week.  At the workshop, i’ve enjoyed watching the reaction of the attendees whenever he speaks… from the back of the room, i would see people talking, getting up for coffee, surfing the web* while presentations were underway.  Yet as soon as the unmistakable voice of yoda was heard commenting, or raising a question?  Silence.  No fingers clicking away on keyboards, conversations cease.  All heads turn to hear the soft, yet poignant words of the master.  This was almost always followed by some groupie saying loudly “Great comment – i couldn’t agree more.  And furthermore…” at which point, heads again nod in Blackberry prayer and people resume their surfing, e-mail and conversations. 

After another round of ridiculous quantities of alcohol, joining the band as guest artist, and other stupid behavior networking late last night, i was up at the festive hour of 5 am.  Prior to my late night excursion into the underbelly of Retired, Over-Cooked Yuppie Central, i had agreed to join yoda on a sunrise excursion with a small gaggle of loyal followers into the Joshua Tree National Park.   With just 3 hours of shut eye, i dutifully reported to the lobby for our jedi adventure. 

He and i are known for our arguments.  Not real disagreements, but debates executed as forensics training.  Neither one of us may believe firmly in our position du jour, but we joust for the sport of it.  After one particularly viscious bout, he attempted to leave me at a seedy truck stop, 2 hours from our destination**.   I had annoyed him beyond his ability to drive.  As he paid the tab, i mentioned that i was going to the counter – populated by large, gruff gentlemen – and would start to cry.  I further informed him that i would explain my circumstances to the nice, sympathetic truck drivers, and hitch a ride.  Wisely, yoda allowed me to return to the car, and all was resolved.

This morning?  Not a hint of disagreement.  The sunrise was breathtaking, and worth the lost sleep.  I think yoda was delighted that he could provide an experience so overwhelming that i was left speechless.  This time?  I was not banished from the car.

And the lesson learned by this young warrior?  Drinkin’ and whorin’ brings tranquility to young jedi – and a tranquil young jedi brings tranquility to the master.


*how rude!  can you believe that?

**my version of events.  his version is quite different.  both are amusing.  neither are particularly accurate…