Happy New Year....Seriously!

In a tarot deck, the Death card is surely the most misunderstood. When one draws this card, there is a tendency on the part of most folks to freak out a little, based simply upon the way they conceptualize death.

This morning, when I did my morning drawing of the cards, this was the card I drew. And you know what? I was excited! This is why…

“Here we see the face of our deepest fear - our greatest unknown. We recoil from Death because we think of it as annihilation. In the tarot (and in life I would suggest) Death is not a permanent end, but a transition into a new state. Life is eternal in its essence, if not in its form. To grow, to move, to live - we must "die" to the old to give birth to the new.

It is a truism in tarot work that Card 13 rarely has anything to do with physical death. A responsible card reader never interprets Card 13 in this way because this view is too limiting. Death is not something that happens once to our bodies. It happens continually, at many levels and not just in the physical. Each moment we die to the present so the future can unfold.

In readings, Death often represents an important ending that will initiate great change. It signals the end of an era; a moment when a door is closing. At such times, there may be sadness and reluctance, but also relief and a sense of completion. Death also suggests getting down to basics. Dying has a way of making you concentrate on what's important. This card reminds you to cut out the unnecessary. Death can also mean you will experience an inexorable force. Death is inevitable, and sometimes there are events that are inescapable as well. When these moments occur, the best approach is to ride your fate and see where it takes you.”

I don’t know about you, but this has been a year to remind of constant reminders that I am not driving this bus; a year of daily reminders of the things that are most important. This past year has been a bitch for virtually everyone I know. It’s been a time of systematic “tearing down” for friends and family; for the whole country and the world at large. But the great thing is that we get to rebuild, and when our old structure no longer works, it's nice to think about considering a radical new set of blueprints.

My New Year's wish 2009 is this: Let this be the year you meet each challenge with your chin up and your eyes on the horizon, and hope rather than fear. That you were take each bit of adversity thrown at you, turn it over in your heart and in your mind, absorb the lesson(s) presented to you; and then you pass it on. Perhaps in doing so, you’ll smooth the path for someone else.

Me? Think this will be a good year. I am embracing the image of the scythe and the rose.

The Christmas Truce of 1914

It's Christmas Eve; we are safe and warm in our homes, hopefully in the embrace of loved ones. My prayer for today is that somewhere on our troubled planet, someone's heart will be made lighter by a gesture of peace by another.

"Friday, January 8th, 1915: A Christmas Day Scene

Rifleman J. Reading, writing to his wife, Mrs. Reading, of Germain Street, (Chesham) refers to the fact that the English and Germans fraternised on Christmas day.

Referring to the Christmas fraternising he says: "I hope you all had a merry Christmas; let me tell you how I spent mine. My company happened to be in the firing line on Christmas eve, and it was my turn - with a non-commissioned officer and four others - to go into a ruined house and remain there until 6.30 on Christmas morning. During the early part of the morning the Germans started singing and shouting, all in good English. They shouted out: "Are you the Rifle Brigade; have you a spare bottle; if so we will come half way and you come the other half." At 4 a.m part of their Band played some Christmas carols and "God save the King", and "Home Sweet Home." You could guess our feelings. Later on in the day they came towards us, and our chaps went out to meet them. Of course neither of us had any rifles. I shook hands with some of them, and they gave us cigarettes and cigars. We did not fire that day, and everything was so quiet that it seemed like a dream. We took advantage of the quiet day and brought our dead in."

As far as I know, nothing like the Christmas Truce of 1914 has taken place since. And there is a wonderful group in the UK who has put out the call for letters, some of which can be found here. The most spectacular is what is known as the Heath Letter; it tells an amazing story, and serves as a reminder that we all want the same things in life, we just have to remind ourselves that the other guy does too.

I first became aware of the Christmas Truce via Garth Brooks "Belleau Wood", and I weep every time I hear it. Given that we're still firmly entrenched in Iraq and Afghanistan, I think it's appropriate here. So when you wish friends and family a Merry Christmas, maybe you'll whisper a silent holiday wish for those far from home.

Take it away Garth!

Last Time I Checked, This Was Illegal

The last thing I need is to get all riled up and cranky first thing in the morning...but this nonsense just about made my hair catch fire. Naturally, I have to rant.

Dennis Prager, radio talk show host, columnist, author, ethicist, and public speaker; in his recent Town Hall publication set out to remind the fellas just how powerful their "package" can be - and just how foolish we ladies are for not falling to our knees and worshiping said package "When A Woman Isn't In The Mood." And yes, that really is the title of the article. But I'm not going to turn this into a "marital rape is illegal" rant. We're all smart enough to know that no means no, even when the parties are bound to each other legally.

"A husband knows that his wife loves him first and foremost by her willingness to give her body to him. This is rarely the case for women. Few women know their husband loves them because he gives her his body (the idea sounds almost funny). This is, therefore, usually a revelation to a woman. Many women think men's natures are similar to theirs, and this is so different from a woman's nature, that few women know this about men unless told about it."

I must say, that was all a revelation to me.

Now I will be the first person to admit that men and women have communication issues. I have often said that it's a wonder that humans have been able to continue as a species, as it's like mating cats and dogs. We barely speak the same language and yet we're driven by the desire to mate, and if Mr. Prager is to be interpreted correctly, mate often. Oh...wait...I have that wrong. Only the MEN get to mate often. Apparently we ladies are just too delicate to comprehend how difficult it must be to walk around with a Ford 427 Cammer engine tucked in their pants, and if we know what's good for us, we won't upset the delicate balance of that fine tuned machine.

There are several instances in the article in which Mr. Prager reminds the reader that more often than not, a woman is clueless about her man. He's such a mystery; such a mass of complexity, that we're really not equipped to handle it. The only solution is to submit. Just give in.
You know you want to.

Well...here's the thing. I'll happily "submit"; hell I'll willingly throw down... when the fellas understand that our engines are built for comfort, for long, lazy road tips. We don't need horsepower and torque. We just need someone who knows how to shift our gears, when to let it idle, and when to let it rev.

Stereotypes...

Stereotypes are funny things. They (hopefully) inspire dialogue in some cases, hide ill will in others; often they are shrouded in humor. What makes them interesting is when the private perpetuation of a stereotype is suddenly thrust in our faces in a loud and public way.

In every subculture we have our own private way of parodying our identity, and I believe that those who would deny that are fooling themselves. My beloved Psycho Mike at The World Famous KROQ, the master of parody, has gifted us with yet another topic of discussion. You will either be mightily offended....or you will nearly wet your pants laughing, as I did.

Grape Soda.wav

Happy Holidays...and let me borrow that top!

This Christmas feels a little different. I don't know about you, but I'm just not feeling it. Times are tough for everyone I know, the country is reeling from any number of blows; the world is wary.

The next few years are going to be even tougher; but maybe this will teach us that we need to be gentle with each other. Perhaps in doing so, we will learn to be gentle with ourselves.

So to the people I love, and the folks who may be reading this that I don't know (and love anyway)...Merry ChristmaHannuKwaanzakah...though I think the fabulous "Kelly" says it best.

Dissecting a layoff...

The fine folks at Gawker.com are masters at dissecting the obvious. I may or may not work at one of the studios mentioned in this piece. I am fortunate to only have been a recipient of the warning emails, but not of the resulting pink-slip. As you can imagine, folks around here don't have their usual freakishly cheerful groove on.

My neighbors at the hit television show (which was just cancelled last week...wtf?) are packing up to leave, and now so are a slew of others.

Ho...Ho...Ho....