In All My Available Light

"I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." 

—Neil Peart, Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road

Every time I look back on it, I can't believe I said no to Rush. It was our sophomore year in high school, 1981, and one of my friends, a budding musician himself at the time, came up to me one day and asked me if I wanted to go to Fresno to see the sold out Moving Pictures tour. Which, according to my new fancy-schmancy Rush: Wandering the Face of the Earth: The Official Touring History, was June 7, 1981, and tickets were $9.50 in advance.

$9.50 -- and I told him I couldn't afford to go. That was a lot for a high school kid in 1981, but I'm sure I could've scrounged up the money. The truth was, believe it or not, I wasn't quite the fan then that I eventually came just over one year later when Signals came out. I did already dig all the big hits from Moving Pictures and some of the earlier albums, and knew that Geddy Lee (bass/keyboards), Alex Lifeson (guitar) and Neil Peart (drums/lyricist) were amazing progressive rock musicians, but I wasn't quite the huge fan yet. Plus, I didn't think my parents would let me go to a concert yet either and was afraid to ask them.

"No, his mind is not for rent
To any god or government.
Always hopeful, yet discontent
He knows changes aren’t permanent –
But change is..."

However, something was brewing within me during those formative teenage years, something that would connect me more and more with Rush's music. The stormy angst of lower middle-class white teenage-land, the longing to succeed, to be the best in everything I did, to be liked by everyone no matter what, and to never fail. Ever. At any and all costs. The pressure I put on myself then combined with growing up in a broken family, domestic violence and sexual abuse circled me like a category 5 hurricane.

"Look in
To the eye of the storm
Look out
For the force without form
Look around
At the sight and sound
Look in, Look out, Look around..."

I felt safe in the hurricane's eye for the first two and a half years of high school, until the high winds drove me into the brutal storm. Anxiety and severe panic attacks ensued, my grades suffered (I had been a straight A student until my senior year), and the dreams of going away to college crumbled, at least until a year after high school graduation.

"Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zone..."

I rarely talked about what I experienced at the time with anyone, even my closest of friends, and definitely not my family. I was close to my mom but I couldn't articulate what was happening inside me -- that I didn't want to be what everyone wanted me to be at the time, and in the years after high school. That I desperately needed to heal the scared and broken child inside me, so afraid to become the me I longed to be. My withdrawn anger turned to depression and even further anxiety.

"Anger got bare knuckles
Anger play the fool
Anger wear a crown of thorns
Reverse the golden rule
Then you learn the lesson
That it’s tough to be so cool..."

But no amount of reading (including the Bible, Orwell, Fitzgerald, Conrad, Lee, Ellison, Baldwin, Salinger, Faulkner, Golding, Steinbeck, Swift, Woolf, Hemingway, Huxley, Beckett, Kafka, Lessing, Poe, King -- Martin Luther and Stephen -- and so many more), nor the music and lyrics of Rush, or the unsure but kind words from my family and friends could fully console me. Much anxiety, let downs and failures later, my awakening to being me and living life on my terms would take another 15 years to be fully realized.

"When we lift the covers from our feelings
We expose our insecure spots
Trust is just as rare as devotion —
Forgive us our cynical thoughts..."

The music and lyrics from Rush did help along the way, though. Neil Peart, the drummer and primary lyricist and eventual writer of non-fiction works such as The Masked Rider, Ghost Rider, Traveling Music, Far and Near, Roadshow and many others, inspired me to be a better human, to be independent yet inclusive, pragmatic yet hopeful, loving of self and others, and to be present and always be adventuring and learning, to keep living a full life.

"If I could wave my magic wand
I’d make everything all right..."

I didn't see Rush for the first time until May 24, 1986, in Sacramento, California. General admission then was only $16.50 and it was another sold out show. I was with my best friends from junior high, high school and college. The hot valley sun beat up on us that day, although we were feeling no pain, that's for sure. The show was fabulous and I never in my life have seen musical prowess on stage, then and now, all coming from three individuals. Ever since that first concert, I've seen them many times with the best of friends, and each show has elevated me to new emotional and spiritual heights.

"Against the run of the mill
Static as it seems
We break the surface tension
With our wild kinetic dreams
Curves and lines —
Of grand designs..."

Neil's words definitely contributed to my spiritual therapy over the years and solidified my fandom for sure. Especially from the albums Signals, Grace Under Pressure, Power Windows, Hold Your Fire, Presto, Roll the Bones, Counterparts and Test for Echo. However, all the albums now are important to me today pre- and post-Signals (yes, I keep saying albums, because I'm old school that way), each of them inextricably linked to so many moments in my life.

"I believe in what I see
I believe in what I hear
I believe that what I’m feeling
Changes how the world appears..."

And then in 1997/98, Neil's daughter and wife passed away within 10 months of each other, and for many of us devastated fans, that was the end of Rush. Even his bandmates Geddy and Alex thought it was over. But it wasn't, and after reading Ghost Rider, Neil's healing road that included riding 55,000 miles on his motorcycle throughout North America, Mexico and South America, helped to bring him back to life. He remarried, had another daughter, and Rush played once again, giving us all another four albums, many live shows and a few more books. Plus, there are these fantastic documentaries available as well: Beyond the Lighted Stage and Time Stand Still (a true love letter from fans).

"Surge of energy, spark of inspiration
The breath of love is electricity
Maybe Time is bird in flight
Endlessly mocking
Here we come out of the cradle
Endlessly rocking
Endlessly rocking..."

I never got to meet Neil; he was wary of the public eye and not comfortable around fans. I did get to meet Geddy, though. That was quite a treat. Last year one of my work trips to Toronto aligned with Geddy Lee's book tour promoting his collection of electric basses (titled Big Beautiful Book of Bass). He interviewed on stage and then did a book signing. I even got to fist-bump him after he signed my book! Maybe one of these days I'll get to meet Alex.

"He's a rebel and a runner
He's a signal turning green
He's a restless young romantic
Wants to run the big machine..."

My last show was with my best friend from college in San Jose on July 23, 2015, where tickets started at $49 each (although ours were a lot more than that). My friend was sure he saw Neil riding his motorcycle outside of the arena earlier in the day, although I'm not sure it was him (but we can still wish it was).

Shortly after that last tour, Neil said he was done and the band officially retired. And that was it.

Years pass and then I'm on my way to see my dear friends of 30-40+ years in early January, 2020, when my nephew texts me:

I’m sorry to hear about Neil Peart.

What? I thought. That led to me calling my wife and asking her to look up this news online.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Yes, he passed away. It says he had brain cancer."

"Suddenly —
You were gone
From all the lives
You left your mark upon..."

I tried to voice text my friends to tell them the news that Neil Peart was dead as I was driving, but Siri couldn't get the words right, so it kept coming out:

Which, in a strange fandom way for many, he was. I hope other fans find humorous solace in that. As I wrote recently, listening to favorite old songs (and albums) is just like looking at faded cherished photographs -- the visceral memories attached to each are forever bound to our hearts. We relive them through our ears of today, the past pleasures and the pain, one song at a time.

"Run to light from shadow
Sun gives me no rest
Promise offered in the east
Broken in the west
Chase the sun around the world
I want to look at life – 
In the available light..."

This morning we were up early, as my family always is, and we drove down to the ocean just before sunrise to catch the birth of a new day. Glorious in rich burning colors, the glowing sliver moon basked in its birth along with us. We held each other, because every day we live our best lives, my wife and daughters, a loving promise we make to each other without compromise.

Neil Peart's life and work has always inspired me to chase the sun around the world and look at life in the available light. To not waste my days just existing, but instead, to use my time well.  Sometimes I can still feel broken, and darkness can creep in, and yet, I keep working on living my best life in all my available light, ample with love and respect for myself, my family and for others. Amen.

Thank you, Neil. 

"The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect

The way you live, the gifts that you give

In the fullness of time

It’s the only return that you expect..."

Daddy K solves our energy problems

Who needs Uncle T. Boone Pickens and Proposition 10? Just plug these guys into every power grid around the world and we're covered (no outlet converters needed).

And there's plenty of energy diversification as well:

Happy Anniversary Daddy K and Mama A

Time stand still -- I'm not looking back

But I want to look around me now

See more of the people and the places that surround me now

Freeze this moment a little bit longer

Make each sensation a little bit stronger

Experience slips away...

--Neil Peart

This weekend we celebrated our anniversary – 5 years of marriage and 11 years since the day we met. As we do every year we read our vows to each other again, but this time we couldn't quite make it down to the lighthouse where we met on October 11 because we've got a little Bea in a our bonnet. So we stayed home, read our vows, and then played Scrabble. Good times.

Early Friday morning was even sweeter for me because Beatrice and I hung out and listened to B Notes, the songs we put together that sing the very essence of having a love child. Yep, love child. What else would it B?

The little bugger brought tears to my eyes. I cradled her in my arms and she studied me intently as each song played. I played the drums lightly on her behind and just as the tears pooled in my eyes, she pooped.

And then smiled and yawned.

Our friends Nancy and Mickey stopped by to visit on Saturday and then Dani and Nathan and their children Kevin and Kelly came by today (I always say Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, Kelly - from the old Cheers episode).

Tonight we went to one of our favorite haunts, La Mission, to celebrate our anniversary, 'cause you can never have enough Mexican food. Beatrice was a sweet as a little angel, sleeping away while we ate and talked.

Freeze these moments a little bit longer…

The K files: In remembrance

This time last year we took a trip to New England with Amy's Uncle and wife. We stayed in New Hampshire and took day trips to Boston, Salem, Cape Cod, and other surrounding areas. Although the fall foliage hadn't fully arrived yet (a few leaves changing here and there), it was still gorgeous countryside – especially when getting lost on rural New England roads to nowhere.

Two days after we arrived I received a phone call from my office. One of my colleagues' daughters was in a horrible motorcycle accident that had put her into a coma, and then on September 11 she passed away. She had just started college in the Boston area two weeks before that. Since we were there on our trip, we were all happy to offer our support to her family.

Most of us are in the habit to respond gingerly to such tragedy, listening, offering prays and support, nodding our heads saying we understand and we know how they feel.

But we really don't know. We do our best to be there for those who have lost loved ones, but we have no idea unless we've lost a child or family member ourselves.

We really don't know.

Amy and I were still trying to get pregnant this time last year. We couldn't even imagine the depth of loss they experienced. For the past year the family has struggled and grieved and done their best to rise up on the healing road. (Two recommended books on loss from differing perspectives include Neil Peart's Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road and Jerry Sittser's A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows through Loss)

Their faith in God's will is strong, but still…

Remembering my friend and colleague's daughter this week puts our baby's life and our own in perspective. It's a cherished gift this life. Embrace it and don't let go.

Live, love and B.

When China sang to Daddy K, Mama A and Baby B

We're still catching up with the 2008 Beijing Olympic opening ceremony, and watching some of the events when we can, but what we've seen so far is spectacular and beyond words. Watching the 2008 drummers play the lighted faux drums was enough to make this aspiring drummer's hands go numb.

The Olympic creed "it's not the triumph, it's the struggle" falls right in line with Neil's "the point of a journey is not to arrive" – and makes perfect sense to be mindful and present in each and every moment.

That's what labor's going to be like for Amy; everything we've learned and prepared for to date will be hogwash when it comes to pushing Baby B out the mama door. The guests we had over at our birth planning meeting validated that statement. It'll be the most natural, physical and spiritually primal act we'll ever experience. No attaching ropes to my man parts, though. That experience isn't necessary.

Anyway, with the spotlight on China for the next couple of weeks, I reminisced about our trip back in late February – Baby B's first International trip! I've included some highlights of my travel ramblings below.

Enjoy!

***

"I stood at the top of the mountain

And China sang to me.

In the peaceful haze of harvest time

A song of eternity --

I heard the hope and the hunger

When China sang to me."

--Neil Peart

***

The flight took off on time and after 13 hours (actually 29 if you count the time difference) of reading, napping, eating airplane food, watching movies and shows on our iPod and iPhone, doing crosswords, getting up and down, going to the bathroom, helping one of our fellow tour travelers get her Nintendo DS up and running to play "brain teasers" (or something like that), listening to two other tour ladies discuss the year of the rat (and the dragon and the snake and the dog...) because they just watched "Rattatoille" on the plane (spelling?) and what wonderful pets they make (the domesticated ones), and the one tour woman who needed to speak in fluctuating decibels to a Chinese native (man) about Manhattan and whether or not chop suey would be readily available in Beijing, and the mother with her cute little boy who sat in our seats on top of our headphones because they were trapped by the duty free cart while we stood in line for the bathroom (they thankfully did not break them), and half-watching without sound some stylistic Chinese cop show where the characters dress cool and it looks like there's lots of action but nothing really is happening (like "Waiting For Godot" but with Budha instead - but not waiting for - now I'm confused), and after gazing out over the snow-covered wonderland of Alaska and string of Aleution pearls and the badlands of Northeastern China, and finally participating in a little plane yoga following along with the young Chinese woman on the TV screen--

We landed in Beijing. Safely.

***

On our way to lunch, we noticed a lot of "urban renewal" going on outside of Beijing. One of tour folks commented Santa Cruz should be doing that with the beach boardwalk. Those of familiar will understand. We also passed a new amusement park being built called Wonderland. I said it looked like Disneyland (there is one in Hong Kong). Our tour guide Angela said no, Wonderland. Go figure.

While we were driving in and around Bejing, Angela gave us a lot of imformaton about Beijing and China (sometimes too much, especially when we were all very tired). She talked about how dragons, magpies ( which were eveywhere), peaches and dozens of other things all meant longevity in Chinese culture! She also talked about how the Chinese government has opened their arms to business, foreign investment and trade, and private ownership of almost anything except property (the buildings can be owned but not the land). She said the Communist Party was no longer communist, and although she didn't use the word democratic she did say capitalistic with certain personal freedoms. I joked with her about putting that in writing and she said no, but they do talk among friends.

***

The highlight of the had to be the Great Wall. Stunning in the mountains and over 3,000 years in the making. The section we were at included a vertical climb up 1,000 uneven steps to a spectacular view (the weather is sunny and warm like Santa Cruz now). And we did it! Baby B's first International hike!

***

Our visit to Tian'a Men Square was quite pleasant and non-eventful by comparison. It was a sunny yet smoggy day (pollution is very bad in Beijing), but thankfully breezy too. The weather has been warmer than we anticipated, almost equivalent to Santa Cruz this time of year. Lots of people walking around the square. In fact, imagine lots of people and then multiply that by 10. It was pretty amazing to be walking around Tian'an Men after only seeing the images and footage in the media for so many years (and the fact that China has only been open to the west again in our lifetime.

***

The color red is everywhere, but not because of communism. No, the color red is good luck and is supposed to bring prosperity. A civilization over 40 centuries old, China is a mystical place with a rich cultural history and sense of pride. They are also a very warm people; even the aggressive street vendors and store vendors are polite about their pitches. They love to barter, and the more you get into it the more fun it is. They'll hand you a calculator (store folk, not street) and say, "Best price." (pronounced plice, seriously) They want you to type in your price.

***

I have to tell you, driving is nuts over here (wait until I recount our little side trip from yesterday). The thousand-year-old roads were made for walking and bicycles, not cars. And even though there are about 1,000 new drivers a day on the roads, there are also still almost 1.3 billion folks walking and riding bicycles. On the streets. On the expressways. On the highways.

Everywhere.

But there's an orchestrated fluidity and symbiosis to the thousands of perpetually honking cars, motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles and pedestrians (yes, the people honk too). It's like every object moving on the street knows where it should be each and every moment. Except us. Oh, there are plenty of accidents, but it's mesmerizing to watch the traffic flow.

***

By the way, there are over 40 million black market decoded iPhones in China, and I'm the only one who can't get the wireless Internet to work (Apple and China Mobile haven't struck a deal yet, but based on this, it doesn't matter.)

***

The sun was going down fast and I wanted to see the leaning pagoda. We walked and walked but couldn't find it. The bike rickshaw drivers swarmed like bees and there were people everywhere - a Friday night in the city.

Then we tried to hail a cab, which was an exercise in futility. No empty cab would stop for us and most had fares. Daylight waned and I was worried, not so much because it was dangerous where we were. It wasn't. But we certainly didn't want to be stranded at night a long way from where we were supposes to meet the group for dinner. We might as well have been on Mars; we were Heinlein's strangers in a strange land. I don't even think we could've navigated the buses. A nice young man tried to help us but he spoke about as much English as I spoke Chinese.

Then a cab pulled up in front of the restaurant behind us but the driver waved us off as he was going in to eat.

I kept trying to hail on the main street and Amy on the side street. Rickshaw drivers bugged us, street vendors tried to sell, and the locals stared at the lost Americans. Dusk was upon us and all the while Amy was also keeping an eye on the cabbie in the restaurant. He finished, came outside and stood on the corner not far from us, smiling. I wasn't sure it was him but Amy was. She stood right next to his cab and when he came over he finally asked where we were going. We showed him the name of the restaurant written in Chinese by our tour guide Frank.

The cabbie smiled again and waved us into his cab. Thank you.

***

Beautiful and sometimes bizarre, Chinese contemporary architecture is a fusion of tradition, pragmatism and retro-western flair. Even the interiors can be strange -- space-age-Ikea-sparseness like the Ramada we're at now in Hangzhou, a medium-sized city of about 6.5 million. The first thing that came to mind was "2001: A Space Odyssey" -- clean but stark white walls, squat red and orange vinyl chairs, and round white cocktail tables all in the lobby. The rooms are like that too. (Was Ikea around and did Stanley Kubrick shop there?)

"What are you doing, Dave? And why do you and all your friends look alike?"

***

After lunch, instead of following the primary itinerary of going with the rest of group (we are one of four groups) to a place called Tiger Hill, we decided to break out on our own for the afternoon and go to the Humble Administrator Garden. We took a cab to the north end of old town, and mercy was that crazy like Mr. Toad's wild ride. Not only is there a completely indecipherable language of honking, if someone is going too slow (and to a cabbie, everyone is going too slow) you pass them - with other trucks, buses, bikes and pedestrians coming right at you.

Thrilling to say the least. We also thought that the driver had gone too far, but once we got there he had three local passerbys confirm we were in the right place (and we had another American confirm).

The gardens were lovely and you could see spring just starting to emerge from its winter cocoon. The peonies and other flowers weren't blooming yet, but the verdant trees, bamboo and other shrubberies were thriving in the hazy spring sun. Lots of granite-colored volcanic-looking rocks were everywhere. Chinese gardens are extremely important symbolically and are intricately designed and planned -- the rocks symbolize mountains where there are no mountains. Lots of relaxing ponds, little bridges and ornate structures where high-ranking officials used to live.

***

Billions are being poured into China's infrastructure - power plants, roads, buildings - construction is going everywhere we went. The hi-tech electronic and component industries are booming. Foreign investment is huge. The middle-class is growing and spending and consuming (and there's still a one child per family law). According to what we're being told the crime rate is very low (many policemen don't carry guns) and lifespans are increasing because of improved health care (although it seems to be manditory for all men to smoke, like it's the 1950's in the U.S. And although there is no true democracy like we experience, it certainly ain't communism. The almost free market is thriving and only time will tell if it can be sustained.

However, we're not seeing the poorer farming communities (still the majority of China), where the horrid industrial machine's wake the world hasn't seem the likes of since the last industrial revolution occurs (India's part of this package too in there own right). We are seeing the smog though, and it makes places like Los Angeles pale by comparison. Our noses are dried out industrial wastelands.

***

Our trek continued in Hangzhou by traveling to the nearby mountains and a beautiful lake called West Lake (it's actually a large natural lagoon only six feet deep). It was a glorious day. Sunny and warm and the air quality was much better in the mountains.

We took cruise on an electric boat (no motorboats allowed and no fishing or swimming. Around us willows and sycamores stood proud in blankets of monkey grass while ancient pagodas rose high above the trees like graceful gods. We learned why the Long Bridge wasn't long and why the Broken Bridge wasn't broken and other tales of old. Chinese literature and storytelling go way back and are rich in myth and lore like the Native Americans and other ancient cultures around the world. We also saw the three large stone lanterns in the middle of the lake that are lit up with candles during the full moon festival in October.

***

Then we were off to the Lingyin Buddhist Temple. On the into the temple grounds we passed a handful of horridly deformed beggars. We were shocked because we hadn't seen folks like this on our trip up to that point. Our tour guide Frank told us that there really weren't homeless in China. Everyone was taken care of by their families and there were many government programs too. These "beggars" could take home more money than police officers.

The cliff Buddha carvings were amazing and over 1,000 years old. The temples themselves were very well kept and ornate and extended all the way up the mountain. Throngs of worshippers lit pungent incense sticks in flaming cauldrons and bowed repeatedly in silent prayer to multiple iterations of Buddha. The 64-foot wood carved Buddha glistened with color and reverence.

***

The next day was our final day and we were going to make the most of it! First stop was the Bund - the waterfront park along the Hangpu River. The view of the city on both sides of the river was spectacular even with the smog. We walked along the waterfront attacked on all sides by vendors, but it was a pleasant walk nonetheless. Amy bought a small panda kite (a series of cheap kites strung together) and wanted to fly it. As soon as we took it out of its bag, it immediately became an entangled mess. While I flew the three kites that weren't tangled up, Amy worked at untangling them. Within minutes a sweet teenage girl came over to help Amy. Then an old, practically toothless beggar women came over to help unsolicited, the same one who we did not give any money to just a few minutes before that. We didn't get the kite fixed, but we were thankful of their help and gave the old woman some help in return!

***

Daddy K’s Behind the Art of Peace

One of my staff members, Dawn, and my man, Troy (Dog), brought to my attention that Rush will be on The Colbert Report tomorrow night (Wednesday, July 16, at 11:30 p.m. PT). It'll be the first time they've played on U.S. television in three decades.

OMG! (That's Oh My God in young hipster lingo.)

That prompted me to catch up on one of my blogs, Rush Is A Band, to then find out that Rush and many other artists will be featured on Songs for Tibet - The Art of Peace (from the The Art of Peace Foundation):

...The project is the artists' expression of peace and support for Tibet and the Dalai Lama.

The album features acoustic songs recorded by the artists that are proactive celebrations of our shared humanity and common search for happiness. The songs themselves reflect the sublime beauty and vulnerabilities experienced in pursuit of happiness, peace and freedom.

The album will release August 5th, three days before the opening of the Summer Olympics...

I'm behind this one for sure and will be making that purchase.

If we burn our wings

Flying too close to the sun

If the moment of glory

Is over before it's begun

If the dream is won --

Though everything is lost

We will pay the price,

But we will not count the cost

--Neil Peart

The B file: We can get back on

It's a far cry from the world we thought we'd inherit

It's a far cry from the way we thought we'd share it

You can almost feel the current flowing

You can almost see the circuits blowing

One day I feel I'm on top of the world

And the next it's falling in on me

I can get back on

I can get back on

One day I feel I'm ahead of the wheel,

And the next it's rolling over me

I can get back on

I can get back on…

--Neil Peart

Yes, we can get back on, we can get back on. No matter what happens growing up, I finally learned years ago that the alternative isn't one. That goes in the B file.

But what's the real ulterior motive of this post? As Mama A and Baby B roll their eyes, kick and squirm, I revel in my unadulterated plug for my boys in Rush who were finally given their just deserts in the latest issue of Rolling Stone (that includes a great article on Senator Obama as well).

Living in the limelight the universal dream…

The letter B: Our dichotomous democracy and the alien shore

Dear Baby B,

Yesterday was our country's birthday – Independence Day – the 4^th of July. Mama A and I had a great day together kicking it all off with a mind-clearing and life-affirming hike in Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park.

We're proud Americans, B, and although we've been labeled Gen Xers and the "me" generation (are we really any more selfish than other generations?), we embrace our rights, freedoms and civil liberties as personally responsible Americans and are grateful.

Sadly those civil liberties have been put to the test in the 21^st century in the endless wake of 9/11 (and as can only be explained in cartoons). It's important to understand how America came to be, where it's gone and where we're going.

I'm in the middle of reading 1776 and I hope someday for you to read it, to understand the origins of our country without Disneyfication or censorship. Some of the same tyrannous elements our founding fathers (and mothers and children) declared independence from the British, we've dealt with of late from our own government.

However, that's why will live in democracy; this is a presidential election year and we have the power to elect one another president. I hope the next administration can put the "we" back in we the people. And that as "we the people" – we have a responsibility as well to ensure we remain thriving and free democracy. We may not always get along, and we don't, but we are the power behind the curtain; we can be the unifiers and the healers. No matter who reviles us around the world, there are just as many who look to America with hope and clamor for our alien shore.

Along those lines I read a great piece in our local Santa Cruz Sentinel yesterday by Wallace Baine about the importance Independence Day and the values of our founding fathers:

Still, as far as 18th-century elites go, these were pretty enlightened dudes. And that means all of us "from the treasurer of the Daughters of the American Revolution to the newly green-carded Korean business owner" benefit every day from the audacious gamble these cats made back in 1776. By throwing off monarchy, declaring religious freedom and enshrining that phrase "All men are created equal" in the new nation's first charter, these dead white guys on your money set in motion a dynamic that would, in time, destroy their own privilege. And they knew that's what they were doing.

Though the Founders were united in their determination for independence, that was about all that united them. They were a volatile lot, those Founders. They all nursed their resentments of each other. Hamilton and Jefferson detested each other. The priggish Adams looked down on the licentious Ben Franklin. They were not diverse in a demographic sense, but as personalities and ideologues, they were as different as they could be. They brawled and argued and pursued political dirty tricks against each other with zest. They were bound by their American-ness, and almost nothing more.

That presents the rest of us with a pretty good model on how to live together, don't you think? We too often lament how divided this country is, but the Founders showed us the paradoxical nature of a functioning democracy, united and divided at the same time.

Good advice, don't you think, B?

You and I, we reject these narrow attitudes

We add to each other, like a coral reef

Building bridges on the ocean floor

Reaching for the alien shore

For you and me -- We hold these truths to be self-evident

For you and me -- We'd elect each other president

For you and me -- We might agree

But that's just us

Reaching for the alien shore…

Just wanted to leave you with a little Rush ditty written by Neil. You'll understand the importance of that influence soon enough!

Love you,

Daddy K

A little Daddy-related flotsam and jetsam

Happy Father's Day!

***

My father never gave me, by fire or water, a baptism into publishing; he wasn't a baptising type. He adopted the sink-or-swim method, so the first few weeks I was at Scribners, in 1946, my assignment was to deal with Ernest Hemingway.

--Charles Scribner, Jr.

***

I once said to my father when I was a boy, "Dad, we need a third political party." He said, "I'll settle for a second."

--Ralph Nader

***

My Dad's idea of a good time is to go to Sears and walk around.

--Jay Leno

***

From "Men and Birth: The Unexplainable" by Haki R. Madhubuti

this is the drama, birth the maturing force that can transform males, making them men of conscious, making them bringers of life and partners in the fight to guarantee better better futures.

birth

unlocks cultural strangulation allowing

men to feel & touch & experience

a source of love that springs in

smiles occasional tears and undying commitment

***

From the song "Out of the Cradle" by Neil Peart and Rush

Surge of energy, spark of inspiration
The breath of love is electricity
Maybe time is bird in flight
Endlessly mocking
Here we come out of the cradle
Endlessly rocking
Endlessly rocking

It's a hand
That rocks the cradle
It's a motion
That swings the sky
It's method on the edge of madness
It's a balance on the edge of a knife
It's a smile on the edge of sadness
It's a dance on the edge of life

Here we come out of the cradle
Endlessly rocking
Endlessly rocking

***

In time for Father's Day, Monster announced findings from its second annual poll of working fathers, which reveals a work/life struggle among today's dads. Despite a common belief among those surveyed that bringing work home is not healthy for family life, seven percent more dads are bringing work home on a weekly basis compared to last year.

Notable highlights include:

1. Fewer dads are taking advantage of paternity leave benefits because they feel they cannot financially afford it (38 percent, down eight percent over last year) or because they feel too busy at work (27 percent, up 13 percent over last year).

2. Seventy-three percent of dads would be a stay-at-home parent if money were not an issue, a seven percent increase over last year.

3. Above all other work/life related benefits, working fathers most appreciate a flexible work schedule (52 percent).