Another Day In Gargsville

Calvin- God Damn It

2010-05-12T09:21:00.001-04:00

For the last two centuries, it has been widely believed by Americans that what eventually became the United States was settled and founded on religious freedom. In 1620, the Pilgrims landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts after a long voyage from England, to practice religion according to their beliefs. The basic version of history has been that they were unable to practice their religion freely in their mother country, so they came to a new land in hopes of creating a better world of religious freedom. When Americans hear this, their chests often swell with pride. After all, Americans think of their country as the land of the free and the home of the brave, as sung prior to every sporting event in “The Star Spangled Banner.” It is a popular notion, among Americans, that Americans are indeed the good guys. They are the ones the world turns to when there is a major problem and the one whose country exemplifies the most individual liberties on the planet. At least that’s what most Americans think, or used to.

While the “founding fathers” (whatever that means) who wrote the constitution, were certainly concerned about religious freedom, the premise that America was originally settled on religious liberty is far from being entirely true. Therefore, the idea that the Pilgrims came here for religious freedom will be closely examined in this essay. Moreover, the theory that the early settlers of New England came to America more out of intolerance of the religious practices of others will also be considered. Evidence will be looked at before their trip to the New World, delving into their theosophical belief in Calvinism, as well as after the formation of John Winthrop’s “City on a Hill” and the concomitant intolerances and atrocities that took place. Finally, this essay will follow the vestiges of Calvinistic philosophy up until the present day as a major component as to why there is still religious and lifestyle intolerance, and, dare I say, hate, in the modern day United States.

The “founding fathers” of the United States of America were well aware of the repressive nature of church and state being one. Although, in the Articles of Confederation and later in U.S. Constitution, there is specific religious language bandied about, by the time the Bill of Rights rolled around, such language appears to be conspicuous only by its absence. The “framers” were highly educated men who knew well the history of Henry VIII and the all the metamorphosis that took place in the Church of England since then. They also were well aware of the dangers of church-run states, as was the case in some of the colonies. Therefore, the first of amendment of the United States Constitution specifically addressed the issue:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. - Bill of Rights, Amendment One

James Madison, who wrote the Constitution, along with his co-workers such as Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and John Adams, were all relatively religiously tolerant men for their times, who, although may have attended different religious denominations, were considered Deists to one degree or another. Deism is a “religion,” that takes its inspiration from the natural world and may or may not believe in a God, but does not subscribe to any specific scriptural revelations. The Calvinists of the day, however, left much less room for the lifestyle and beliefs of others.

Calvinism, best known for its doctrine of Predestination, was named after the 16^th century French reformer John Calvin and later developed by other prominent members of the Protestant Reformation movement. According to the doctrine of Predestination, which was a backlash to some of the practices of the Catholic Church of the time, salvation is not awarded to someone due to merit obtained through good works or the blessings of the church in this lifetime, but rather, God has already chosen those who will be saved beforehand. In essence, either you are a chosen one or you are damned to hell. Calvinists believed that your fate would be revealed by your own standard of behavior and example of purity. In short, if you were one of the “chosen ones,” you had it made in the shade, if not, it was “damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” and I do mean “damned,” in the most extreme sense of the word.

In practice, the Church of England in the 16^th and 17^th centuries was a morphed hybrid of Roman Catholicism and the Protestant Reform Movement, which was heavily influenced by Calvinism. While some English Reformers attempted to influence the Church of England from within, others thought of that attempt as a watering down of the real principles of the Reformation Movement and instead elected to become separatists and break away from England all together. These separatists, who were later to become known as Puritans in some circles, attempted to create their idea of the perfect society in Holland in the early 1600s. This experiment only lasted a short while, however, when the Puritans became concerned that their children were becoming too influenced by the local culture and were therefore risking their good spiritual standing. For some, this mentality may be hard to understand because if they were indeed predestined, it didn’t really make a hell of a lot of difference what they chose to do. But, anyway, we can suspend our disbelief, just to humor whatever ghosts are left over hovering around from that wonderful era of human history. Finally, these soon to be “Puritans” decided to set sail for the New World, more specifically Virginia, in order to start their dream society. Yippee! My country ‘tis of thee, and all that other crap! Anyway, from at least one angle of vision, the Puritans were not being religiously prosecuted for their beliefs, but instead the Puritans thought the societies of England and Holland were too contaminated to associate with and consequently did not live up to their spiritual standards.

On the way to Virginia, the Mayflower was diverted north by storms to Plymouth, Massachusetts where they soon settled with help from the Native Americans. Oh, the providenial “acts of God,” are just extraordinary, don’t you think? Later, in 1629, John Winthrop led a more fanatical brand of Puritans to Massachusetts and formed the Massachusetts Bay Colony. It was there, in the region of Boston, that Winthrop delivered his famous “City on a Hill” sermon in 1630. In his speech, he envisioned a city where people lived up to the true Christian ideal and set a shining example for all to see. Reminds me of a George Harrison lyric that quotes Regan quoting Winthrop- “There’s an actor who hopes to fit the bill/ Sees a shining city on a hill/ Step up close and see he’s blind, wined and dined/ All he has is pose/ And that’s the way it goes.” Anyway, before setting sail from Europe, Winthrop was elected Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, a post he would be re-elected to 12 times before his death in 1649. Although the Puritans were said to have come to the New World to practice religious freedom, it appears they showed very little tolerance to anyone who differed in belief even slightly.

While the Puritans came to the New World, in their minds to preserve their freedom of worship, they seemingly had zero forbearance for anyone who preached any idea outside of their line of thinking. Such defectors were generally deemed heretics. When Roger Williams said that the Massachusetts Bay Colony was not a legal charter in God’s eyes because the Puritans had not purchased the land from its rightful owner, the Native Americans, the governmental officials were concerned. When Williams further insisted that punishing people for their religious beliefs was not the colony’s business but God’s business, the magistrates of the government could take any more and banished him from the colony. I find it quite interesting that the Puritans used religious extremism on somebody who was religiously extreme (by today’s standards), only because they were, in fact, even more religiously extreme. Williams, of course, later founded Providence, Rhode Island, by “the will of providence.” There was also an outspoken woman named Anne Hutchinson, who held religious meetings in her home, who concerned the magistrates even more. She claimed that she communed directly with God from time and time and that God told her that most of the preachers in the churches of the Massachusetts Bay Colony were no better than the preachers in the Church of England. Talk about a major insult. She was also duly kicked out of the colony onto her proverbial Puritan ass.

The religious intolerance of the Puritans did not stop there. After all, why stop when you’ve got the hot hand and you’re on a roll? The Wampanoag Tribe, of whom the Puritans increasingly stole more land from as torturous time went on, had members regularly arrested by the Massachusetts Bay Colony for not being married in Christian ceremonies. A little more than 50 years later in 1691, panic had swept through Salem Village, when several young girls claimed they were “victims of witches.” In the first few decades of the colony, about 15 alleged witches had been executed, but never before had such fervor and hysteria affected the Puritan community. By the time the Witch Trials of 1692 were over, 19 women and men had been hanged for being witches and one more was pressed to death for the same alleged “crime.” Man, if I were around during that time, I would have never left my tarot cards out for anyone to see.

Not only did the Calvinistic Puritans come to the New World due to lack of tolerance of other faiths around them in Europe, but they also displayed excessive lack of tolerance to those who did not follow their creed in the New World. Does this sound anything like a certain branch of a certain modern day political party? One may naturally wonder how a community that claims to be religious and God-fearing could commit such abominations against other human beings? I mean, wasn’t it Mr Jesus Christ Almighty H(h)imself that propounded the teaching to love thy neighbor as thyself? Well, apparently they didn’t love themselves very much with all the penances, austerities and self-denial they were involved in.

Today it is often claimed by the religious right that America is a Christian nation and was founded on Christian principles. A stern look at history, however, shows that the picture was a little more complicated than that. While there were zealots, like the early Puritans, who thought that the Church and State should be one, there were also those more of Jefferson, Franklin, and Madison’s ilk, who saw the inherent danger in such a theocracy. Of course, they came after, well aware of how much religious fanatics could fuck a situation up and trample on the rights of others. When the Church and State are one they realized that a person would no longer be allowed to freely practice the religion of his or her choice. Instead, the person becomes subjected to a government with absolute authority over everything one does, says and thinks. The philosophy of Calvinism opens the door to killing in the name of religion because it polarizes the “chosen ones” from the evil “other.” As history shows, killing is quite negotiable when it comes to religious beliefs.

The philosophy of Calvinism also ultimately rules out free will. Therefore, Predestination is often referred to as Double Predestination. Not only are the chosen people destined to go to the Kingdom of God before they are born but those who are not chosen are destined to meet with eternal hell. Such a philosophy cannot possibly be equated with a loving God who is all-good. The problem of evil, in this case, could ultimately be traced to God Himself because it is He who created the individuals who will be destined to suffer without a choice in the matter. It is therefore not a much of a stretch to see how followers of such a supposed God could become callous to other’s suffering. That is because they depict a sadistic God who is omniscient and omnipotent and rather random about who suffers and who doesn’t in this world. When you worship such a “devil,” you eventually become quite a “devil” yourself, just by a matter of logical sequence.

While the philosophy of Calvinism has been reformed to a large extent to include the possession of free will for every individual, one can see vestiges of intolerance in the denominational descendants of the Calvinism to this day. All the major religious denominations in America that have sprung from the Reform Movement have been tinged with this virus of seeing those outside of one’s faith as “the other” and all of its inherently concomitant prejudices. Concepts such as “Jesus is the only way,” and eternal damnation are widespread beliefs of many millions of Americans up to the present day. While such philosophies don’t come right out and say that God has created someone that has no choice but to suffer eternally, they imply it. There are , after all, billions of people around the world who have been born into different religions, some who will have little or no opportunity to become “born again.” Is one to believe that such individuals will suffer hellfire for all eternity? When a person actually believes this, his or her psychology completely changes. Life becomes less sacred. If a normal parent more easily forgives their child than God does, what can be said of worshippers of such a God? Many logicians see the concept of eternal hell to be insulting to an all-good and all-powerful God. If God is the most merciful, than why is He condemning people to eternal suffering?

This prejudice (notice the make up of the word which signifies pre-judging others) also extends into the realm of innate lifestyle “choices” as well. If a person is predisposed to be a homosexual or lesbian, then how can you judge them? While many modern day followers of Calvin deny that sexual orientation is a psychological and/or physiological predisposition, the vestiges of their rather hateful philosophy (which is in complete contradiction to the teachings of Jesus), state that even if it were, such people are damned nonetheless.

In a related topic, many young people today are becoming atheists and agnostics because Christianity (in most of its modern day incarnations) cannot reconcile that fact that bad things happen to good people in a world said to be run by an all-good and all-powerful God. They rightly perceive that the world is too complicated and more people in general are too sophisticated to accept the Judea-Christian explanation to what they perceive as the “problem of evil.” In other words, why does “evil” exist in the world if God is both benevolent and omnipotent? Rabbi Harold Kushner understood this philosophical dilemma and attempted to answer it almost 30 years ago with an explanation that sent many followers of the Torah reeling. He said that God was indeed all-good, but His omnipotence must be questioned if bad things continue to happen to the innocent.

In a philosophy class I took a few semesters ago, the rather openly “Calvinistic” professor brought up the problem of evil and said that the cause of suffering in this world is the biblical phenomena of “original sin.” That is, 5000 years ago, or whenever it really was, God got sore at Adam and Eve and decided to blame all of humanity on their transgressions for all time. The only way out of that curse, apparently, was to accept Jesus as the only way, because, as Annie Lennox once sung, “I was born an original sinner/ And I was born in original sin.” When I raised my hand and, in my general meek and humble way, proposed the ideas of the East, which include karma and reincarnation to help aide the problem, this so-called “even-keeled professor, almost gave birth to an unsacred cow. I, however, continued, “If my Dad ever blamed me for something that my brother did, I thought he was out to lunch, or not exactly on the ball and of fair-disposition.” I cannot see how this idea of “representational sin” could be more philosophically sound than each person taking responsibility for their own actions as found in the East, I continued. Such crazy notions, as interpreted out of the Bible, have contributed to an even greater disharmony between science and religion than otherwise would have been there, because religion in this country has not traditionally aligned itself with facts or logic.

Doctrines like eternal damnation fly in the face of a fair and merciful God, no doubt. The basic premise has always been, as is used today by politicians and the media, that fear is a very effective emotion to use in order to control people. The best way to do this, is to paint another group of people, who may be different than you in some rather superfluous way, out to be your enemy and of the “devil,” more or less.

Throughout the history of America, there have been many issues caused by this “othering,” which can arguably be traced back to Calvinistic philosophy. First, the white settlers came and stole land from the Native Americans. “And the unsung western hero killed an Indian or three/ Then he made his name in Hollywood to set the White man free/ now, Jesus save me.” – Ian Andersen. The wars that followed were tantamount to almost complete genocide of a race of people. Next, the settlers imported Africans to work as slaves on their plantations for the purposes of economic development. . “Old pirate, yes, they rob I/ Sold I to the merchant ships.” – Bob Marley. Millions of innocent people were ripped away from their families and put into work-bondage as if they were sub-humans. So many slaves inhabited the United States, that, at one point, 15-percent of the entire population of the nation was owned by white landowners. Later, the term Manifest Destiny became the rationalization to traverse across the North American continent and claim the lands of the Native Americans and Mexicans by any means necessary, as if it were the white man’s inherent birthright. “

Today, gay and lesbian people do not have the right to marry in most states and political candidates are subjected to debates mediated by the head of a Christian church. The Republican Party is highly influenced by the Christian right and a candidate must bend to its agenda if he or she has any hope of nomination. Originally, the Calvinist philosophy left no room for the points of view of others, and that tradition appears to continue to have somewhat of a hold as we enter into the second decade of the 21^st century. Oh Calvinism, how I love thee, and how you love all the peoples of the world!

The Video and the Radio Star

2010-04-25T21:54:00.002-04:00

The first time I watched MTV, I was elated. Finally, a 24-hour a day cable network dedicated exclusively to one of my greatest loves- popular music. When I was younger, growing up in the 1970s, I was always impressed with the rather rudimentary music videos of the day that were often seen on shows like Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert and Bert Sugarmand’s Midnight Special. As with some of the early MTV music videos, many of the promotional music videos that came before it on such shows do not hold up. However, many do, and back then, I was always happy to see my favorite stars either performing live or in one of those videos.

The first time I saw MTV, I was at a friend’s house. As soon as I sat on his living room chair, the video “Sweet Dreams” by the Eurhythmics popped on the screen. By then it was 1983, I believe, and the striking video, which featured philosophical lyrics and mixed sadomasochistic overtones with ideas of Hinduism, blew me away and stimulated my creative juices. This medium had great potential, I thought. I had always been a fan of the fledgling videos from the decade before and imagined myself with the creative medium to produce such videos for the new cutting edge network.

As fate would have it, however, I did not get into filmmaking like I desired, and as part of my newly-found spiritual practices (which coincidentally enough was from the tradition that spawned Hinduism), made a conscious decision to lay off television, which I did for a little more than five years. Then, when I started watching television again in the late 1980s, I was well aware of the popularity that MTV and VH-1 had gained over that period of time, and enthusiastically tuned in to see what was going on. To my initial dismay, I found a medium that not only did not cater so much to the rock ‘n’ roll that was so popular when I grew up, but more to visual music stars like Michael Jackson and Madonna. Although they were certainly talented on the musical level (especially Jackson), I felt that the medium had taken a turn that I had not expected, and in my stubbornness, did not fully appreciate.

Even now up until this day, I lament that video killed the radio star. I also lament, as Stevie Van Zandt put it in a speech this year at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame induction, that the best music out there is no longer the most popular, like it was all those years ago, before the medium of music video took hold and good looks became more important than the music itself. But despite the nostalgia for FM radio not being what it once was, if I really think about it, I wouldn’t want things any other way.

I mean, after all, we live in a Capitalistic Democratic Republic, where the consumer ultimately rules the roost. Who am I to say what someone else should like and not like? I happen to not like what I call the over-production of much of the 1980s music. I happen not to like the fact that if a Joni Mitchell came along today it would be hard for her to get airplay because she can’t shake her ass that way Beyonce can. I was not into the disco music of the late 1970s, did not particularly get the whole grunge thing in the early 1990s, was not into hair bands, and for the most part, abhor the egotistical crude materialism of hip-hop, and never was really moved by contemporary R & B. I also don’t like that there are so few record companies today and they seem to have so much creative control over the modern artist. But if the consumer doesn’t like what is being presented to the public, they can rebel and go underground- which to me, is the original spirit of rock ‘n’ roll in the first place.

Moreover, there are many things about today’s music scene that are great. There are now, for example, with the help of the internet and the computerized music technology that really started in the 1980s, more artists to listen to than ever before. Maybe the cream of the crop are not making the kind of money that they once could have, due partly to, in my estimation, the poor taste of the public, but at least there are artists who are able to sincerely express themselves through music that may have not even had any kind of voice back in the day. There is also internet-based and satellite radio that plays more varieties of music than was ever before possible.

I understand that someone reading this might consider me a music snob. I, rather, see myself, as just like anyone else: I have my own tastes ((and distastes) in music for my own reasons and just happen to use a sometimes strong voice to get my point across.

One thing that has taken me a long time to learn, though, is that my initial distaste to the popular music of the day, often turns into like, years down the road when I revisit the same music. It is as Bob Dylan, a man who has reinvented himself several times but has still followed the beat of his own drum for five decades has said, “The times they are a changin’.” I can also imagine what Madonna’s response might have been if someone would have expressed their concern for the seemingly accidental prophetic statement that “video killed the radio star.” I can see her defiantly staring back and simply saying, “So what?!?”

An Always Hungry Day

2010-04-02T00:48:00.007-04:00

I had one of those all-day hungry days today. Didn't think about it too much, just kept eating. As a matter of fact, it's 1 am and I'm still hungry now. I don't think I really ate before I went out the door, but after my Photographic Journalism class, I had firsts and seconds of Krishna Lunch. Now, I didn't exactly get a heaping plate either time or anything but I certainly got a belly-full of whatever they were serving- rice, cauliflower sabji and some salad. I did say ishq on the halava, though. Today I ate half a bag of chips. First time I've eaten any potato chips in about a month. Kind of made my mouth taste like a sewer but the first bite or two was enjoyable- well, kind of. This evening I made spaghetti and had seconds also. My regimen, which I was doing so good at, got whipped today, boy. I could eat something more now, but that would be kind of insane, wouldn't it?

I'm pretty much psychologically ready to get out of school and travel for the summer. One more month or so to go before I go go go. Govinda is going to Berkeley for graduate school in the fall and Radha may go to Emerson in the Spring semester of 2011. In the meantime, Shyam keeps playing his guitar and schlepping through Santa Fe College. Glani is graduating from the R.N. program and will start working at North Florida in May.

I'm going to have one whole apartment to myself when I get back from my summer travels and have been thinking how I will set it up. Right now my mind is too jumbled to think but I know it's going to be a nice cave that my friends will think is cool. Maybe I'll walk around in a bathrobe and smoke a pipe. It would look cool enough but I'd probably choke from accidental inhalation. I need to think about space and the fitting of my books, cds, records and stereo system. The kitchen should be a nice experience- controlling what goes in what cabinet and drawer. Buying my own set of spices and appliances for streamline-kitchen-Gargs action.

What will really be good is having the quiet time to write whenever I want. The TV will only go on when I say so. Sometimes the sound of it annoys me to no end. I have at least 100 projects up my sleeve that I would like to sink my teeth into in the upcoming years. No, I'm not going to grow my hair out ever again. It was getting in my way too much and my brother said I was starting to look like Tommy Chong- although he did think I was starting to look kind of hip- in a disheveled sort of way.

Remembering Padmanabha in New England

2010-03-10T17:27:00.001-05:00

Some Padmanabha New England Remembrances

by Gargamuni das

I cannot possibly put into words the loss I feel with the passing of Padmanbha Prabhu. Before he moved to Germany at the end of 1983, he lived on this side of the Atlantic, in a place called New England. Some 27 years after his move, his departure from this world has sent shock waves to everyone who knew and loved him. And make no mistake about it- to know him was to love him- and there are many devotees here who dearly miss him. My remembrances are just one small account, and not from the very beginning of his Krishna consciousness, but from a period between 1981 – 1983, that have left an indelible mark on my personal life. I hope the devotees in Europe enjoy hearing a little bit about this rare soul before he blessed them with his association in Germany.

Around the time I joined the temple, he used to cook the feast by himself in the Providence temple. He was made the temple president by default because all the other senior devotees had moved to other temples. Although not a managerial type, he had all the other qualifications to run a preaching center- he could cook, perform bhajans and preach very well. He was a bit messy in those days but his feasts were spectacularly big and delicious. So much bigger than what most temples serve out today. Oh my god were they ever delectable. Pakoras, curded sabjis galore, savories, fancy rice pulaos, chutneys, puris and sweet rice were generally the bare minimum.

My brother, Kesisudana and I worked in the kitchen full-time just washing the dirty pots he created. It was hard to keep up with him. He would add the ingredients with his signature horn sounds "ba-doo-boo-boo" (he was a music teacher) without ever following any recipes. Spending time with him in the kitchen for hours everyday, and hearing all his Krishna conscious stories was the consummate bhakta program. Sometimes he spoke to us kindly like a loving uncle, and sometimes joked with us with his great sense of humor like a close friend.

When we cleaned up after the feasts, he would put the leftover prasadam in transfer containers. He made sweet rice so delicious that I still dream of it today. Whatever leftover sweet rice that didn't fit in the container, he would personally eat that night. The next day, Monday, he would always do a grapefruit juice fast, sit on the porch all day, chant japa, and answer all the philosophical questions my brother and I had. He would also preach to whatever guests came, or whatever neighbors happened to walk by. He was so laid back and so self-satisfied. He never seemed to be in anxiety about anything.

This was around 1983. He pretty much taught me to cook. He was about 37 at the time, I was 19 and my brother was 18.

Sometimes, we would chant bhajans for three or four hours at a time. He knew all of Bhaktivinode Thakur's songs on the harmonium. I would close my eyes and be transported into another world. After stopping, he would pause with his eyes closed also- then slowly open them with a smile on his face, look around the room and just say "Awwww Krishna." As one devotee put it, “He was always one of the good guys.” He put bhakti above all considerations.

For me, those days in his association will always be precious.

The first time I ever visited a temple was in Hartford and he was there. First my brother and I talked to the temple president Pyari, and then Padmanabha appeared. He had cooked the feast.

"I want to go to India this year," he said "But I can't." "Just go in your mind then," Pyari said jokingly. "Okay," Padmanabha said in his happy-go-lucky fashion. Since it was my first time, I thought he was serious and speculated they were talking about astral travel. I thought he must be a mystic yogi or something. It turned out he was even better.

I remember once, he, my brother and I all went to Boston to help cook for the Ratha-yatra and the Whole Life Expo, which went on at the same time that year. In addition, I think Janmastami and Vyasa-puja were all about the same time as well. It was madness. We served thousands and thousands of plates of prasadam and were working in the kitchen for 16-hours a day for about four days.

Padmanabha burned his feet straining a gigantic pot of boiling potatoes in the back parking lot but just kept on cooking with blistered feet, unfettered.

When we got back to Providence we were totally dead for the rest of the week. We would rise and Padbanabha would lead kirtan in a very hoarse voice for about 20 minutes and then we would all crash in our various rooms upstairs. Sometimes we would wake up, look at each other, say nothing and then just go back to sleep. Other times, we would come out and chant a few rounds and then just go back in our rooms and crash again. This went on for days until we finally recovered.

We were bramacharis when I knew him. He was older and had read all of Prabhupada's books before he finally joined the temple in his mid-30s. He was very mature compared to the young passionate bucks running around the temple in those days.

After he moved to Germany, he married and had a son.Hanuman. It just dawned on me that it was he who got me saying "Hanuman Ki jaya!" anytime I had to lift something heavy. He was in the military before he was a devotee and was especially attracted to Lord Rama's pastimes.

I recently contacted a friend who had left the movement after living with Padmanabha for several months. He was deprogrammed when he was only 19-years old but he never forgot his older friend. Upon hearing the news, now 44, he wrote, “Is that the devotee the I lived with in Providence ? If so, it is very sad he passed away. He was like a father figure and a great Man.”

I wondered about Padmanabha's next destination as I checked out of my hotel room after hearing the news the night before. As I left, I did the once-over, checking inside the nightstand. To my surprise, there I found Prabhupada's Gita right next to Gidgeon's Bible in the drawer. I picked it up with one hand and the book opened to 12.6 -7. To my delight, I read the following-

"For one who worships Me, giving up all his activities unto Me and being devoted to Me without deviation, engaged in devotional service and always meditating upon Me, who has fixed his mind upon Me, O son of Pritha, for him I am the swift deliverer from the ocean of birth and death."

He left us in New England suddenly at the end of 1983. My brother and I went out for the Christmas marathon and he went to his guru’s Vyasa Puja in Germany. He was requested to be president at one of the temples and he stayed there for good.

Now he has also left this world suddenly, after a brief illness. I guess that’s his style- short and sweet. I also guess Krishna has other plans for him. I feel so fortunate to have known such a great soul.

Political Factions and Progressive Tax

2010-03-05T12:30:00.000-05:00

James Madison was very much concerned with the potential problem of faction due to his perceived fear of the power of the masses to trample upon the rights of the individual as provided in the U.S. constitution and later in the Bill of Rights.

Before we can go further into the discussion, a basic definition of the word faction seems appropriate. According to Webster, one definition of faction is “a party or group (as within a government) that is often contentious or self-seeking.” Another one reads, “party spirit especially when marked by dissension.” Thus a faction, in its basic stripped-down sense, implies a smaller group of people, within a larger group, whose inherent self-interest creates dissension, or some disunity within that larger group of people. In Federalist No. 10, Madison defined it thus, “A number of citizens, whether amounting to a minority or majority of the whole, who are united and actuated by some common impulse of passion, or of interest, adverse to the rights of other citizens, or to the permanent and aggregate interests of the community.” Here, the phrase “adverse to the rights of other citizens” is significant. In its milder and smaller form, Madison saw a faction as harmless and part of the general diversity of a nation. In its larger form, however, Madison saw said factions, as a very real threat to the health, fabric and ultimate survival of a union and the rights of the individual.

In the realm of subject pertaining to faction, Madison felt that such arenas as regime and religion were vulnerable. He was most concerned, however, with “the various and unequal distribution of property.” He thought that according to whether you were a property owner or not, you had distinct and separate interests in the logistics of society. Property owners, in general, have much more of an economic control over a nation, and with such control, are much more able to tilt the playing field of a nation in their favor.

In Madison’s mind, there were two ways to limit the harm caused by faction. The first way towards such limitation would be to remove the very cause of faction from the start; the second way would be to somehow control its effects. In reference to the first way, Madison saw only two real possibilities- to either remove people’s liberties as fought for in the American Revolution (which essentially would result in some sort of dictatorship or monarchy), or, in a sense, create some kind of “utopian” society where people’s interests and opinions create a homogeneous harmony. Seeing the first option as counter-productive to liberty and the second as impractical, Madison concluded that the only practical way to deal with the danger of faction is by controlling its effects.

Towards that end, Madison saw a Republic, or representational Democracy, as a much more viable option than a “pure Democracy.” In an outright Democracy of vox populi, majority rules on all issues including the voting in of specific laws. Because of its concomitant nature, this inherently has the potential to eclipse the rights of the individual that Americans hold so dear. In a small state, or in a nation where states have too much autonomy, such a factional minority can become more of a majority to the point of dominating or downright taking over a state. In a more diverse and larger nation, where representatives are elected from a larger pool and associate with representatives from other states, such a phenomena is much less likely to occur. It is also more likely that such representatives will be more competent. Partly to achieve these goals, Madison took the Federalist stance and saw a strong central government as essential to the preservation of the union and more specifically, the rights of the individual.

It just seems to me that factions can certainly be a hindrance to society when they get out of control, but a society devoid of them, would also essentially be a telltale sign of a lack of diversity. Therefore, a balance must be struck between the rights of the individual and the rights of groups of people that form and create special interests. There is nothing inherently wrong with “special interests” as long as they don’t gain special privileges that trample on the rights of the individual. This is, of course, especially pertinent today where lobbyists wine, dine and influence representatives towards their aims, often not in the best interest of individuals who wield less influence. Citizens have a right to form groups and parties to make their voices more strong, but the unequal distribution of wealth which goes hand in hand with a capitalistic economic system, can extend its hand into the political arena and sometimes do harm to the individual.

I don’t think there are any easy answers to these questions. Ultimately, in a Democracy or a Republic, the individuals who vote or choose not to, only have themselves to blame for the state of the union and the protection of their individual rights- providing, of course, the elections are actually fair and free. I think that Madison was right in terms of the need for a strong central government to not only protect the individual rights of its citizens and the diversity of a nation, but also to make it more powerful and safe from the economic and defensive points of view. But no matter what system you have, let’s say a Republic, for example, if the hearts of the people are selfish and corrupt, they can ultimately expect nothing but corruption and self-interest on a wider scale from their elected leaders.

In Thomas Paine’s The Rights of Man, Paine proposed a representational government combined with social programs to lift the common person out of the grip of poverty through the methods of progressive taxation. Paine was appalled by the glaring extreme between poverty and wealth in monarchies and wanted to ensure the colonies and soon the fledgling nation did not denigrate into what he viewed as an unjust state. He opined that progressive taxation be applied to “excess wealth” in order to level the playing field for all people. He felt that without such a progressive tax, no form of democracy could ultimately be maintained. In Paine’s later work, Agrarian Justice, he applied such an idea to the propertied paying a tax for the ultimate benefit of those who had no property.

Paine thought that property originally belonged to no man and since many who owned property inherited it or obtained it by special favors through an unjust monarchy, those who owned property should contribute to a fund for the common good of those who did not. He felt that those who had property had an unfair advantage over those who did not.

Both James Madison and Thomas Jefferson discussed these notions at length- and Paine came up with the view that such a progressive tax was needed to ensure basic human rights to those who did not have property.

Whether you believe that no man originally owned all property, or all humanity originally has a right to all property, or God owns all property, Paine’s treatise in Agrarian Justice certainly must have some appeal on some level. It would seem to me that only those who are in possession of a large amount of land or hope to be some day might object. Even among those individuals, some may still agree on principle, based on utilitarian or humanity reasons. That principle being that no individual in a nation, despite his or her ambition, or lack thereof, should sink below a certain level of sustenance and maintenance is born of a collective consciousness that we are all ultimately in the same boat together. Even many of the wealthy who honor this principle agree with some form of progressive taxation.

Now, while one can easily understand how self-interest can make a wealthy person and property owner be against progressive taxation, it is a little more of a stretch to understand why someone who is not so economically endowed would be against it. But, there are also those who in principle, be they Libertarians (who may have some compassion for others but believe in individual charity) or simply envious self-interested people who may have some hopes of some day being wealthy, who are against the notion of progressive taxation on principle alone. They obviously believe in smaller government and are much more in favor of the rights of the individual, at least in the way that they perceive it.

It is, however, ironic that Paine’s whole idea of progressive taxation is spurned on by his sense of justice in defense of the rights of the individual as well. It appears that from an ideological point of view, both groups of political philosophies and factions, namely those that support some sort of progressive taxation and those who are vehemently against it, are acting out of the sense of the rights of the individual. So the question begs- is there more than one way to achieve the same goal or is one system inherently better than the other for achieving the same means? From Paine’s pragmatic point of view, there was really only one solution.

Paine was expert at explaining complex ideas in such a way to reach the hearts of common people. And as such, he was very much able to do something of lasting value for the common people- whom he felt got the short end of the stick. Particularly when he went to France- he saw first hand the dichotic disparity between the wealthy property owners and the common people and saw it as an abomination upon the very spirit of humanity. He wasn’t interested in big government getting its dirty paws on the wealth that the people worked hard for. Rather, he was concerned with those who monopolized wealth and property and used it to their unfair advantage to fuck everyone else over. He saw first-hand what it could do- so while he believed in Capitalism, he also believed that some sort of socialism must be there in order to ensure that the dream of Capitalism be preserved for all people into the future. In a sense, he was not a man prone to fanatical extremes, although it may seem that way because his views garnered so much controversy in Europe that he was just narrowly able to escape execution.

A person with extraordinary vision is often not very much appreciated when he or she is alive. They may be dismissed as a crackpot or even worse- seen as a dangerous radical. Or they may be honored all over the world in time, while contemporaries from the same town or village will see that person as ordinary. Sometimes they come from humble backgrounds and are people of modest means for most of their lives. But despite the shortage of accolades and remuneration they may receive for the service they do for society, they ultimately go down in history as great individuals. Thomas Paine, although he certainly did strike a chord in pre-revolution America and gained some prestige and honor for that, died pretty much in obscurity compared to the great wealth of writing and influence he left for the betterment of others in the sphere of political philosophy. Whatever your political philosophical beliefs and methods to achieve and preserve liberty may be, although you may not agree with everything Thomas Paine said, you almost have to acknowledge his place in American history in helping to achieve a freer life for all individuals.

Rock 'n' Roll is Rock 'n' Roll

2010-03-03T12:24:00.000-05:00

I was born in 1964, the year the Beatles came to America, and as they really were the most influential band going into the 1970s, in so many ways they shaped my life. I was a bit precocious as a kid and as a result, most of the friends that I hung out with after school were often four or five years older than me. Imagine, if you will, being 8-years-old in 1972 in northeastern Connecticut and having friends who were just becoming teenagers. What kind of music do you think I listened to?

I remember hanging out in Wayne Sperry’s basement. All the kids in the neighborhood did. While they smoked pot and made out with their girlfriends, I was allowed to stay there if I was quiet. As a result, I just sat there silently and listened intently to the music they blasted. At the time, I think, Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” and “Deep Purple’s “Machine Head” got a lot of spins.

One friend, named Joe, used to take me to his house and play me what he called “the real good stuff.” He turned me onto Dylan, Chuck Berry, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, and the Beatles. I poured over the albums and memorized all the lyrics. By the time I was 10, my younger brother Kevin and I started collecting our own records.

Now, I don’t know why, but I have always gravitated towards the past. I think it is partly because I like to see where things come from, partly because I have certain since of gratitude, and partly because I always disdained the “unenlightened masses” swarming around the latest trends, even if it happened to be what I would later concede as good music. In short, I became a bit of a music snob, albeit, with pretty good taste.

Sure, I liked some of the newer groups that were hitting it big by the mid-1970s, like Boston and Queen, but if I had my way, I would have been much happier to turn the clock back to the 1960s.. By the time I was a teenager and my friends were listening to Blondie, Devo, and the Talking Heads, I was smoking reefer and listening to Steppenwolf, the Youngbloods and the Beatles’ “Revolver” over and over again.

Many of the popular artists of the late 1970s, who I love now, like Billy Joel, the Bee Gees, the Clash, the Ramones, or the Police, I resisted then. It wasn’t until I heard the song “Refugee” from Tom Petty’s “Damn the Torpedoes” album on a Saturday Night Live episode in 1979 that my attitude started to change.

When he hit the stage, I was startled. The energy was raw, rebellious, and electrifying. The hooks were magnetic and the lyrics were clever. And that voice- like a modern Dylan and Roger McGuinn, but with a fucking attitude. Not as angry as Elvis Costello per se, but a presence not to be denied. And not clueless and stupid like a Johnny Rotten or a Sid Vicious. “Who the hell is he?” I thought. Later, I heard the story of determination and defiance against the record industry behind “Damn the Torpedoes” and it dawned on me how Petty was carrying the torch of the truly thoughtful yet irreverent attitude of rock ‘n’ roll from his idols, like the Beatles, Dylan and the Byrds onto the next generation, while flipping the bird to the proverbial “man.”

It was Petty who opened up the floodgates of my mind for me and allowed me to accept new music as viable and not reject something simply because the crowd was into it. While that’s harder now, considering the sorry state of mainstream music, I have continued to keep an open mind because of Petty, who himself has continued to make great relevant music and sell out arenas and amphitheatres around the country as he pushes towards the age of 60.

That raw, defiant, and thoughtful music is what to me, rock ‘n’ roll is all about, no matter what era it is from. It is a music that honors the past and stays fresh and relevant into the future, whenever and wherever it is recorded. To me, that is the real spirit of rock ‘n’ roll, no matter what sub-genre you may want to classify it as. It is as Jerry Lee Lewis said in the film “History of Rock & Roll, as shown in class, “Rock ‘n’ roll is rock ‘n’ roll.” How could it be put any better?

This New Year, This New Decade

2009-12-22T07:34:00.006-05:00

With the new year fast approaching I recently told my son that I am enthusiastic to get my life together with the help of some good old fashioned new year's resolutions. "You say that every year," he said. "And then you just revert back to your usual self within a few days."

"But this year will be different," I said. "This year I'm extra focused."

"That's what you always say," he said.

Maybe so, but I still think this year will really be different.

You see, January 1, 2010 will not only be the first day of the new year but also the first day of the new decade. Woohoo! Sounds exciting, heh? But seriously thinking about it, I have to ask myself why? With that day fast approaching, I have to honestly ponder, why does it give me a shot of anticipatory enthusiasm?

Is it because I will not only be able to make new year's resolutions but new decade's resolutions as well? I mean, I want to change my life for the better and get closer to my true potential for sure, but why is it that the start of the calendar year always gives me added hope to do so? Why couldn't I get the inspiration to better my life and turn over a new leaf at any arbitrary time? How about Tuesday, December 22, for example?

Perhaps it's because we live our lives according to how we divide and measure time incrementally through the use of a calendar. Or perhaps it's because all living beings are innately programmed to have a dose of energy for everything that resembles a new start. Sayings like, "Start with a clean slate in the morning" always had a special appeal to me for some reason, like the dawn of a new day always brought me hope after a decent night's sleep.

This coming new decade has certainly made me think about how fast time is truly passing by in my life. When the decade of the "ots," or whatever people will finally figure out to call it, started in the year 2000, I was 35-years-old. No spring chicken no doubt, but as the decade ends and I stand at 45-years-old, it now sounds mighty young to me. When this next decade ends and I clock in at 55 (if I'm still around by then), 45 will also sound whipper-snapper-ish for sure. That being the case, I want to take full-advantage of my "youth" while I still can. And no, I am not having a mid-life crisis. I don't even know when mid-life will really is because I have no real idea how long I will actually live in this current body.

Anyway, no matter how I analyze it, I am stoked about this new decade and really really really want to get my proverbial shit together in every possible way. No need to get into the details, other than to say this pertains to every category of my life. Will I be able to get it together? Will my new found enthusiasm waver as it does every year- at least according to my son? Or will this new year and new decade finally be the catalyst for lasting and positive change?

Hopefully, I won't be performing this same old song and dance when I'm 55. Hopefully, I will really have some good momentum by then and feeling even better than I did when I was 35, or even 25 for that matter. What I mean to say is, time will really be running out by then to make any major improvements. Of course, when and if I get there, there will be somebody older telling me how young I really am. Whatever the case, there's no better time to realize that the time is now.

It's Very Safe Riding With Me- Even When I Multi-Task

2009-10-26T10:11:00.012-04:00

As I was driving home last night from Miami at rather high speeds, I was thinking. You know, I'm one of those guys who is against texting and driving for other people but think it is okay for myself. Call me arrogant, puffed-up, overly sure of myself or whatever, but I just can't help myself. My mind is way too restless and I am very confident that I am quite capable of doing it without any ill results. I also Facebook, eat, talk on the phone, floss my teeth (not really) and even occasionally read (really, but very very carefully). Sometimes I drive with my knees, so my hands are free for other important tasks, like air guitar or some other such imperative activity while listening to music at very high volumes. Sometimes, I may close my eyes (for the shortest amount of time) to get into the lyrics more. The lyrics are very important to me.

Once in a while, I even sleep with one eye shut and the other one as much as half-opened. I only do this because I've heard how rest is so important for your health and I'm all about that. I'd say I've easily driven at least one million miles in my life and still have not caused even one incident, what to speak of an accident. Don't say that there's always a first time because that is one of the most inaccurate cliches of all time. Is there always a first time to get Aids? How about skiing through a revolving door? No. You know why? Because not everyone gets Aids or skis through a revolving door in their lifetime- that's why. Besides, for me, driving for five hours or more at a time just seems like a big waste of time if I am not allowed to multi-task.

Now that we have that out of the way, I don't want to see you doing any of the things that I do. And I sternly warn you, if I see you doing it, I'll probably call the police on you. You know why? Because I don't trust that you're capable of it, and I'm very concerned with other people's safety. Sure, I myself may wander off the road once in a while, but I have the reflexes of a cat and probably twice as many lives as one. I have absolutely no proof that you do, though. So don't ever say that you are willing to take over the driving while I get rest. Do you really think I would be able to sleep with you at the wheel? You, who are so lacking in confidence to multi-task while you're driving? No way Jose. I feel much safer with myself at the controls, thank you very much.

In fact, it's really so safe riding with me at the wheel, that I don't think there's any need to ever wear your seatbelt. I would advise you to, though, just in case there's a blue moon out that night and six or seven cars simultaneously make a mistake, and I'm only able to dodge all but one of them. But don't worry, as you have probably surmised by now, I'm also a prudent guy and safety is definitely a serious issue for me.

The Serenity Prayer, Being Here Now, and Wading in the Cesspool

2009-10-25T09:16:00.008-04:00

Yesterday, I ran over some glass and noticed a couple chunks of rubber missing from the side of my front passenger tire. The tire is only a month or so old. The one it replaced exploded while I was driving down I-75 a month ago. I'm going to leave Miami around 4 pm today and hope everything will be okay during my long return back to Gainesville.

I haven't written any blogs for some time now. My writing has mostly been feeble attempts at poetry. I guess people live their lives in cycles, and now that I have a little time, I would like to express myself in more of a diary form.

I don't even know what to say to describe the way I have been feeling lately. I think one's emotional life is important enough to dedicate some words to because it is directly connected to the quality of one's overall life. I think my basic problem is not accepting what I have to accept. In other words, everyone has things to do in routine life that they have to do. Not accepting doesn't just mean refusing to do it, but can also mean not putting forth one's best effort or being lethargic or unenthusiastic about it. It can mean failing to focus and thus doing a shoddy job. It could mean one's mind is in another place. That one is mentally rewinding or fast-forwarding too much because they don't want to be there.

There are a lot of causes for this phenomena, and it kind of smacks in the face of the famous serenity prayer, which of course requests god to grant the petitioner the strength to change the things one can, accept the things one can't and the wisdom to know the difference. Sometimes we have the knowledge, but out of stubborn foolishness we don't concede. Sometimes, we don't know what we can or cannot change and we sit in a stupor of limbo, not appreciating the life around us at the moment. Other times, we mistake what we can change for what we cannot and surrender to the inertia as real opportunities pass us by. Still, at other times, we have a "never say die attitude" for a lost cause and never move on with our lives.

I don't know which of the above negative stances has been affecting me more lately, but I suspect they are all acting on me to one degree or another. The result is probably that I lack appreciation and gratitude for the situations I am being given and thus am failing to "be here now," as the saying goes. If I was honest, I would have to admit that in nearly every category of my life, I feel like I am barely getting by and doing a sub-par job in the process, I might add. How can you do your best job at anything if your mind is always somewhere else?

Procrastination has shown it's ugly face more than ever in my life this last month. As the beginning of a new month is just about here, I feel it is imperative that I get my proverbial act together and start focusing on the things that I can to make my life better, as well as all the people who I have some peripheral influence on, in at least some small way.

Without getting into the details that make a piece of writing so much more interesting (sorry readers), I want to get the hell out of this current rut and start living my life again the way I am used to living it. If it takes clawing my way out of whatever hole I'm in, then I am committed to doing it. I have a number of ambitious plans on the agenda and I'm not going to get anywhere with them while wading in the cesspool. Details and positive updates to hopefully follow...

Changing Times

2009-07-01T01:00:00.006-04:00

I've got a lot of different accounts that are protected by various user names and passwords. There is my ATM card, my credit cards, online banking accounts, my cable company, my Facebook and MySpace accounts, several email accounts, school accounts, etc, etc. As it has been said so many times before (my way for apologizing for the cliche´that I'm about to write), the list goes on and on. Despite all of the above, and I could list many more, I somehow can remember all my different user names and passwords off the top of my head, although sometimes it takes a little while if I have not utilized them for some time. It's really a crazy world that we live in. It's got me spinning around a little.

When I was growing up, life was not that complicated. We didn't have all these various accounts that could be accessed online with all these secret codes. Nor, of course, did we have all of the technology of today. Let's see, if I drifted back to when I was about eight-years-old, to the year 1972, for example, what could I remember about then? I may be exaggerating but I swear that simple calculators were the size of toaster ovens and cost about $500. There were no video games- not even in the arcades. Pinball machines were the thing. Cable TV did not really exist until a few years later. Goal posts in the NFL were at the goal line and there was no such thing as overtime. There were no fax machines, or mobile phones. No VCRs or DVD players. No cruise control or even micro wave ovens. We didn't get ours until around 1976 and it was considered newfangled and space-age, man. Still, somehow we thought things were really advanced with trash compacters and window air conditioning and whatever other new thing someone had recently obtained on the block.

I remember when it was a big thing to get a hotel room with a phone and a color TV in it. Or should I say motel room?

As kids, it seemed we had more freedom also. Before I turned ten, I would regularly disappear with my brother and friends all day and come back around nine at night with not even a phone call in between. My parents had no idea where we were but that seemed to be the norm back then. If some kid's parents expected them to call, we thought they were very strict. Sometimes we would drive for miles on our bikes and no one would bat an eye.

These days, either it has become a more dangerous world or there is just more media attention in that regard. Whatever the case, parents are far more protective of their children than they used to be. While I think there's good reason for that, I also think that kids growing up today do not experience that same sort of adventure and freedom that kids of my generation experienced.

Back to how life has become so complicated. Sometimes I think I should write all the login information down but experts warn you not to do that. I could give every account the same user name and password but experts warn you not to do that too. In essence, they expect you do have all these different letters and numbers in your head without writing them down. As you get older, I suspect it will be a little harder, although I have not experienced that yet...I think.

Anyway, I haven't written for awhile and in my return I'm rambling but I think there is a point to all of this. Life is different than it used to be. It didn't happen overnight but it kind of gradually just crept up on me. I'm okay with it. I'm not a super-fast texter or computer aficionado or anything but I don't really care how much society changes. I like the way things used to be to a large extent and I like the way things are now to a large extent as well. There are certain things I could do without in both eras but I don't really care that much to tell you the truth.

The main thing is that I understand through all these changes I have essentially stayed the same person. My viewpoint may be a little different and the cells of my body have completely changed several times over but I'm still me. Just recently, I was thinking of my many childhood memories before I turned five and not just thinking about the events but what my consciousness was like then. I didn't think about things like sex or death like I do now but the person inside that little body was still me, somewhere in there. And I guess I will go on being me even with the changes that are to come. For example, vinyl records were the thing back then, but then came 8-tracks, cassettes and cds. Now it's pretty much digital music. But it's still music.

I suspect I'll see some more changes in the upcoming years, in fact I'm sure I will. They will be so gradual that I won't notice so much but when I look back, it will be like, whew, remember that? Time really has passed! Yes, time passes and things change but I have remained the same, essentially. Logically, I also conclude that I will somehow exist after the big change for me, the death of my current body. Don't know where I will be after this lifetime but I'm pretty sure I'll be somewhere, in some land where changes are still taking place. Of course, I'd like to go to a place with a little more security and continuity but that discussion is for another place and another time. I hear you have to gradually qualify yourself to go to a place like that.

My Continuing Edumacation

2009-06-17T10:47:00.006-04:00

I've been on the road now for a little over a month and have gained three pounds. When I started on my diet/exercise regimen in February, I weighed in at a whopping 249 pounds. Looking at the pictures now, I don't know how people could even stand being around me. I was Gargantuant. I certainly cringe to look at those photos now. I guess they liked my personality or something. In just three months, I was able, through diligence and hard work, to shed 43 pounds and get down to a more respectable 206. Admittedly, the rigors of the road and traveling with an even more enthusiastic eater, have been a bad influence on my regimen. It seems almost every time I want to eat more healthy, the man is stressing cheese. Despite that fact, I'm happy traveling with Dhrits because he's such an easy-going, interesting and entertaining person. I just need to be more personally willful. Weighing in at 209 pounds is all right for now but it is not something I am happy with long-term.

Now, if you have looked at my daily pictures, with all the restaurants documented that we have visited as posted on Facebook, you would probably be surprised that I have only gained three pounds. I certainly was when I stepped on the scale this morning. I seriously thought that perhaps I had gained somewhere in the vicinity of 15 or 20. But considering the fact that I was hitting the treadmill semi-regularly in the first two weeks and I still do my fair share of walking, I have been able to slow my growth-poundage-rate down. Also, I think my metabolism has sped up from all the regular running and weight-lifting I was doing before this trip commenced.

I am now determined to get more serious again. All is not lost and I am a man who has been always able to bounce back from adversity. Double Garga-Power!

This coming Monday, I will finish my Meteorology online class and be only one more class away from being able to graduate from Santa Fe College. Hopefully, by August I will be done with my Genetics class and clear the way to enter Journalism College at UF in the fall. I was not able to register for classes in time to take a Photo Journalism class this coming fall but I'll be sure to be on my toes to get into one in the Spring of 2010. I love carrying the camera with me and plan to buy a digital SLR before I go to L.A. in late July for Kuli Mela and Ratha Yatra. All work and no play makes Gargs a bored boy so I have decided to go to the West Coast for a week's vacation or so. You know, see some old friends, good for the soul. I'll be traveling with Glani, Govinda, Shyam, Radha and Vrn at various times during the trip. Shyam, Radha and Vrn have never been there before so it will be fun to see their happy faces taking in new places. To take a few days off and hang out at the Ratha Yatra after-party and walk around Manhattan was also good for my soul. I have to say, I'm much more of a city person than a country person. I mean, I appreciate the country but I really like social and cultural stimulation.

I'm trying to strike a balance between work and play. Actually, I'm one of those guys who shoots for work being a pleasure. In mu mind I'm always pulling for pleasure. After all, that's the natural state of the soul. Hopefully, that will become a reality for me more and more in the upcoming chapters of my life. I think my continuing edumacation is key.

Temple Gargectdotes Part 1

2009-06-04T10:31:00.006-04:00

Once in the mid-80's, I was reading synonyms for the word stupid out loud from a thesaurus to Dheera and Rom Roy while sitting in the temple president's office. We were in a giddy mood and my friends started laughing hysterically. For some reason, words like lame-brain, imbecilic, out-to-lunch, nincompoop and moron seemed particularly funny that day, I don't know why. Anyway, as I kept reading, they kept laughing louder and louder. Finally, Dheera fell off his chair, and rolled on the floor holding his side and screaming with water coming out of his eyes. It was therefore sobering when Vijitatma appeared at the threshold, Bhagatavatam volume in hand and a grave look in his eyes. "What's all the noise about?" he asked. "Gargs is reading from the thesaurus for the word stupid," Dheera said, his laugh petering off. "You should hear some of these." "Do you Prabhus realize that I'm trying to read the Bhagavatam in there?" Vijitatma said pointing to the guest room, "And you guys are in here making nonsense noise like frogs simply attracting the snake of death." Surprised, Rom Roy meekly responded "I thought we were just having some good clean fun."

Bhakta Steve Pitts was frequently seen around the Boston temple in the early 80's. Steve was a nice enough guy from Derry, New Hampshire who had a bit of a hunch back and talked out of the side of his mouth. People thought he looked a lot like Popeye. He had been around ISKCON since the mid-seventies and regularly reminded the new devotees about it. "Prabhu, I've been around this movement a lonnggg time," he often said. "Way back to the days of Nityananda in New Talavan." Then he would look into your eyes quite seriously, pause and say, "I've got some free advice for guys just starting out like yourself: You keep your mouth closed and your ears open and you'll find out who your friends are." On another occasion, I heard him giving some similar advice to week-long member Bhakta Breton after his usual New Talavan preamble, "Don't do any service for the senior devotees. You're in this for yourself."

Steve, in case you haven't figured it out by now, wasn't exactly all there. He had drank paint-thinner recreationally before he joined, albeit in low doses. "I knew what I was doing," he said.

Once, during japa period, my brother Kesi and I were sitting against the temple wall chanting as Steve paced by us, walking around the temple room floor again and again. When he was almost in front of us, he stopped and shook his head violently, vibrating his lips and making a high-pitched wailing noise. Kesi and I looked at each other and tried our best to contain our laughter. When he came around again and did it for the second time my brother asked him. "What was that, Steve?" "Symptoms of ecstasy, Prabhu," he answered in a most serious manner. "Symp-toms of ecs-tasy."

My Current Funk

2009-05-26T10:30:00.007-04:00

The road has the potential of making an animal out of you. Long distance driving, followed by work and then figuring out the basic necessities of life. Solving the food problem everyday, for example, is one such dilemma. Where should we go today? Not pizza again. Chinese sounds okay. Italian would be cool but all that bread at night. It gets Garg-xhausting. Life has also been an endless stream of checking in and out of hotels, packing and unpacking, and missing my life lately. I have school work to do and I'm often so tired that I put it off to the last minute. It takes me a while to wind down at night and my brain is not functioning properly enough to do any real challenging thinking. In the morning, I vegetate in bed for some time until I finally get the ball rolling and do something productive. The most disappointing thing for me has been my lack of hitting the gym out here. I've only done it about four times in ten days. I have to get back on the ball and not let things spiral out of control. I do get exercise when I'm working but all the stopping and going is not the same. I've been only out here for ten days, man but it feels like it's been months.

As I eluded to before, one problem is, after I work hard all day, I want some kind of reward in the form of eating. It is not easy to not eat at night out here. There are a lot of good veggie-restaurants for sure. The formula is one for potential disaster. A possible reversal of all these months that I've worked hard to attain- namely my loss of 43 pounds prior to this trip looms in the precarious future. So far, I haven't gained any weight out here but I know I am losing my momentum a little. I can't let an occasional fall off the wagon make me discouraged and give up my goals in this connection, though. Intermittent lack of strictness has to be factored into my life and I have to allow myself failure sometimes. Two steps forward and one step back is perfectly acceptable. Even one step forward and one step back is passable when you are trying to survive out on the road.

Today, we are in the Philadelphia area. Sunday we were in Hartford. Before that we were in Baltimore, D.C. , Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Baltimore and D.C., in that order. Dhrits and I get along fine. I do the driving because I feel comfortable with it. I know my way around up here and I've driven a few million miles in my life. I'm very good at it. Dhrits is older. He'll be 58 in a few days but he still has a lot of energy, considering his age and girth. He is pretty funny too. For the most part he is easy-going and laid back. He is content if he gets the remote in the hotel room. I'm not interested in it. I will be interested when the new episodes of True Blood start in mid-June, though. He watches the NBA playoffs, which I am happy with on in the background while I write. I would be just as happy with classic movies but I don't care so much what's on. I adjust myself according to who I'm with. He makes a lot of political commentary. He is very anti-Republican, which is a-okay with me. Every time he starts watching Fox News for a second he says, "I'm not going to watch this and increase their ratings," and then suddenly changes the channel. When I told him we have to be part of the Nielson ratings to matter, he just shrugs it off. By the way, I am in love with the Democratic party by any means, but hey, nothing is perfect in the material world.

Right now I have a B-average in Genetics and an A-average in Meteorology. I've fallen behind a little in Meteorology but the professor understands and has cut me a little slack. It is a Summer-A course, so it is jammed packed with work considering it only lasts six weeks. Each exercise lasts several hours. I'm not a science guy, so it is not something I look forward to doing several times a week. As I said, I'm often very tired after the activities of the day, so surrendering to science exercises is not something I get ramped up about. I have to catch up on that stuff today, as some papers are due in a day and it looks like we'll either be traveling to the Buffalo area or Saratoga Springs tomorrow. Either way, it's a long haul. It's suppose to rain for the next few days, so we bought about 120 ponchos each to sell in case of that eventuality.

When I was regularly writing this blog, I think it was more interesting because it was filled more with daily anecdotes. I fear it is becoming a bit of a boring cursory overview about how I feel at any particular moment concerning the last week of activities. In short, devoid of details, I dread that I'm losing my edge. I need to re-sharpen myself and shake things up a bit. I must snap out of my current funk.

Summer Trip Begins

2009-05-18T20:31:00.004-04:00

Dhrits and I have been on the road since Friday. For three nights in a row I only was able to get three hours sleep or so. On Friday, I drove for about twelve hours and we stayed in Richmond. On Saturday morning, we arrived at RKF Stadium in Washington D.C. and was able to work about three hours or so. That day, we ate at one of my favorite vegetarian restaurants located in Rockville, Maryland called the Vegetable Garden. I got the "Chicken" Curry, some "Chicken" Drumsticks, wonton soup and a spring roll. Later that day, we rolled into West Chester, Pennsylvania, where we stayed at a Holiday Inn for two nights. We almost always stay at Holiday Inn's because we get half-off the normal rates with my iata card. For example, in Richmond we paid $49, in West Chester we paid $57 and in Pittsburgh we are paying $44 a night.

We arrived in Camden, N.J. on Sunday morning and got to the show early. Although we arrived at 9 a.m., people didn't start getting to the concert until around 11. The good thing about it was we were able to sneak into the lot and park for free. The bad thing is we had to wait around for a few hours. It was cold outside, in the 40's early on with a stiff chilly wind from the North. Reminded me of my childhood in Connecticut. I dozed off in the car and tried to catch up with my sleep for an hour or so. I woke up and changed into long pants so I didn't chill right to my bones.

With the weight loss has come less cushion on my butt which now starts to hurt after long rides. I especially felt it on the first day. One of the few pitfalls of losing weight, I guess. The first couple of nights I hit the treadmill. I was so tired Saturday night that I actually dozed off while running five mph, albeit for a split second. Another split second and I may have been thrown across the room. Maintaining my exercise regimen is important to me, so I have to keep it up no matter how tired I am. The problem is so much driving, working and online schooling can keep me from getting into the ambitious mood that is neccessary to amintain my regimen. I watched the Celtics lose game seven yesterday when I could have been running. Now that they're out of it, I don't think the television will occupy my time very much anymore. I generally just let Dhrits have the remote in the hotels and occupy myself with other things, the computer among them. He seems perfectly content with the remote in his hands.

We rented a full size car at $32 a day. It's a Hynudai Sonanta. I didn't want to put so much wear and tear on my car anyway. It works out for Radha because now she has my Yaris to drive during the summer. It has good pickup and more room but of course not as good gas mileage. My Yaris gets almost 40 miles per gallon.

Today we drove to Pittsburgh. I always liked the look of this working-class city. It is very hilly with three rivers going through it. It looks old and industrial but not overly dirty, with brick and stone buildings interspersed with sky scrapers from decades past. The streets are narrow downtown. One section of the area that I like and remember from about five years ago is an area called Shady Side, which has some half-way decent restaurants and historic buildings. Glani, Vinode, Mahananada and I ate at a nice Thai, Indian and Middle Eastern restaurants when we were there then. Dhrits and I are going to the Bruce Springsteen concert tomorrow and then driving to D.C. on Wednesday for the Coldplay concert on Thursday. The drive is about 250 miles.

I have some interesting, and in my mind humorous stories to tell in my upcoming blogs but am too tired now to relate them sufficiently now. Stay tuned.

Northeast Here I Come, Diving Through Glass, and Peter Parker and Mary Jane

2009-05-11T00:28:00.008-04:00

I leave for the Northeast on Friday. That leaves me basically four days to get my act together. I signed up for my fall classes at UF last night and tweaked it this morning. Because I didn't get notice of my acceptance until late in the game, there were many classes I wanted to take that I couldn't due to them being all filled up. Oh, well. I'll be on the ball next time. I chose core classes for Journalism plus a mandatory Economics class. I'm pondering the idea of going for a double major. I'm interested in English but may go for Political Science or History along with Journalism so I will not be perceived as a one-trick pony when I go looking for a decent job.

I'm now down to 206 pounds, which means I lost another pound in the last four or five days. I want to keep the weight loss going throughout the summer even if it is at a slightly slower pace. I plan to drive to D.C. all day on Friday and then hit Philadelphia on Saturday. After that, I may go to Pittsburgh, then back to the Baltimore-D.C. area and then on up to my home state of Connecticut. And so the zig-zagging will go on for the better part of three months. Dhrits told me today he's pumped. I don't want to go but in life you have to do what you have to do and you might as well make the best of it while you do it.

I'm starting two summer online classes to finish up my AA degree at Santa Fe tomorrow. Animal Behavior and Meteorology- it should be a blast to study in-between long hours of driving and hard work in the summer sun. Every day, I try to smile and laugh at least once every waking hour. Otherwise, I'm wasting my time. No matter what I must go through in life, I have found that one gesture to myself makes life inexorably better than it would be otherwise. Generally, I also find that things I dread are unfailingly never as bad as my mind makes them out to be. That's why I find Nike's motto of "Just do it," not only corny but incredibly true. I have a scar on my arm in the shape of the Nike symbol. Once, when my brother was seven and I was eight, he ran out in the rain to get something from our Dad's truck in his underwear. "That was really fast," our father said. "Oh yeah," I said, also in my white briefs, "I'm faster." "Why don't you guys race?" our father said. And so we did, to the stone wall across the lawn and back to the door. The race was tight, so I dove head first through the glass window at the end in an attempt to win. The dive didn't win it for me but it was a tie and that's when I cut my arm into the Nike symbol. In my mind, I wanted a rematch but I was bleeding too much.

I just got sucked into watching Spiderman while flipping around the channels. I have to admit, it's a good movie. I always hated when girls like Mary Jane went out with losers like Harry Osborn instead of someone like Peter Parker, who is so much the better man. Similarly, in school as a teenager, it never ceased to amaze me when girls I liked were interested in certain other boys instead of me. I knew who the boys they were interested in really were and felt like Joe Jackson in the song, "Is she really going out with him?" Then I would think, well if they're that stupid, then maybe I don't want to go out with them anyway. Perhaps, I thought, girls wanted boys to compete for them. For me, that was a big turn-off. I had an ego and felt if I wasn't recognized as being obviously superior, then the prospective girl wasn't worth my time. "You never made a move," Harry later said to Peter. Peter felt bad but accepted his fate of a lost opportunity. Whatever the case, I like Peter's attitude when he finds out about Mary Jane and Harry in the first Spiderman movie- he's a little sad but keeps his head up with a positive attitude. Neither does he judge her like I probably would have at his age.

Shyam went to New Vrndavana for the Festival of Inspiration. Radha is not staying over here for the first time in months. She visited her mother for Mother's Day. I watched the Celtics win on a last second shot by Big baby Glenn Davis with Govinda while he typed his resume for an internship in architecture. The house now seems empty now but soon I'll be out on the road and miss even the luxury of this emptiness.

No More Science and Math... At Least Relatively Soon

2009-05-06T09:49:00.003-04:00

It's Wednesday but it feels like Sunday. Such is life during vacation. Vacation, what vacation? I can't relate very much. But hey, I got into UF Journalism College. Ho-rah! I just found out yesterday. It felt good for a few minutes. I yelled rather loudly when I saw it online. My daughter came in annoyed as usual but then actually smiled when she heard the news. I have orientation on Friday. I still have to pass my CLAST test for Math in order to get my AA, as well as take two online Science classes over the summer. I'm taking Animal Behavior and Meteorology. They sound interesting enough. One of the classes I know the teacher but the other, God help me. It's all a crap shoot. He didn't get very good ratemyprofessor.com ratings but I didn't have much choice. It's all academic now, though... at least I hope. Imagine if I had failed one of my classes. I came pretty close on two of them. Still, my GPA remains at a respectable 3.61 and I am in. After this CLAST test, no more Math in this lifetime except for the only thing I'll ever need anyway- day to day arithmetic. You know, like how many seconds do I have before this avalanche buries me or will I have enough cash to pay for this stuff when I get to the cash register and shit like that. After these two science classes, no more science this lifetime either. Thank the good Lord of everything that is holy, unholy, in-between, attractive and repulsive. No more Science and Math. Good bye, good riddance and good luck.

Yeah, what vacation? I've got to study for this CLAST test and I set sail for the green pastures of the Northeast on May 13th. I'll be working my ass off and I won't be back until school starts on my birthday- August 24th. I've got some more things to do in-between-time like a ton of paperwork. I'm going to have to work for two days also during this upcoming weeklong "vacation." Yippe.

Shyam is showing me his poems every day and voraciously reading astrology books. Sounds like he takes after someone I know, at least a little bit. His poems are pretty good. Very thoughtful.

I am still at 207 pounds. Keep hitting the gym but have ate at night a couple of times. My body doesn't like this eating at night stuff. It feels dysfunctional when it does. Must curb this habit before it's too late.

Turning Another Transitional Corner

2009-05-02T09:51:00.004-04:00

Over the last nine days or so, I have only managed to lose one or two pounds. My weight is now down to 207. As I have been lifting weights right along, though, I think more muscle has been gained and more fat has fallen. It's going slow right now but I think I'm doing all right, even if is at a slower pace. Forty-two pounds lost altogether is not too shabby. Playing basketball with Kesi at the gym has certainly made my exercise more interesting. Now, I'm getting a lot of comments from people that I look better. It feels good but I must forge ahead. I'm going to buy some eight-pound weights to take with me on the road. I will just have to do many more repetitions in the hotel rooms in order to keep the muscle mass from decreasing. I hope I don't make the places smell like a gymnasium. Although, I don't think Dhrits will mind that much. He's pretty easy-going, especially if I let him have the remote control. Hitting the treadmills will be no problem but what I'm really afraid of is the calling of the veggie restaurants at night after a long day's work. I'm going to bring a scale with me and keep my eyes on my weight like a boxer in training.

It now appears I will be leaving for the summer on the morning of May 13th. I talked to Dhrits yesterday and he says he will be ready by then. I think Nrshmadeva's appearance is on May 7th, and he really wants to stay for that. He predicts a big feast. That will give me time to get my books for the two classes I'm taking online during the summer and tie up whatever loose ends are still left dangling. I have always become a little sentimental during this time, especially when the kids were younger. A few tears would fall and then when the wheels started to roll I would adjust my consciousness. I've had so many crazy adventures out on the road but hope that things will be relatively calm this time. Either way, I will be blogging about my experiences.

My son Shyam wants me to leave the guitar so he can play during the summer, therefore I plan to buy another one to take with me out on the road. Maybe I'll write enough songs to record an album worth of demos and have AV on vocals when I get back. I think Shyam plans to visit Connecticut in the summer and I hope to see him there. He played so great in the helping Alachua Real win the Division I Gainesville Adult Soccer League Final last week. His skills are so refined, that when he has the ball, it is almost impossible to take it away from him. He has such ease and confidence in his eyes when he plays and excels against grown men. He likes soccer but I don't think he loves it. If he loved it, then he could very well make a stab at the pros but that would take a ton of dedication. Right now, he's too absorbed in reading all Prabhupada's books and getting at the meaning of life. Also, he is writing poems everyday and showing them to me for feedback.

Govinda finished his semester at UF architecture school and I haven't seen that much of him lately as he's been spending a lot of time with his girl friend. He plans to continue his studies in Italy in the Fall of 2010.

Before I go out on the road, I have piles of paperwork to get through that I have been neglecting during the last semester. Hridayananda Maharaja was kind enough to give us a few things from his house before he left, including a fax machine and bookshelves, which I now have in my office. I bought a really cool-looking painting from Vrn that she finished only in half-an-hour and had in a school art show and hung it in the office also. She's multi-talented at art, design, acting and singing. She's moving to the Big Apple in June to go to school and I think the painting will help me to remember all the good times we had with her over the years. It's sad but life goes on and I'm sure she will do well in New York. Radha is probably flying up with her for Ratha Yatra. Radha is blossoming into such an awesome young woman. She has a lot in common with me but would be hard pressed to admit it. I love her attitude of fly-in-the -face rebellious attitude toward injustice and hypocrisy. We generally go out somewhere together every day. I have bonded with her more than ever these past couple of years. She's also a talented artist but won't let me have any of her stuff. I hope I can catch the Rath this year. There will be a big show to work on that day, so it will be a tough decision. Kavi just flew up to Boston for a week. That kid is always going somewhere.

Glani is taking Summer A classes through most of June. She has two more semesters before she officially becomes a R.N. She has completely recovered from the endometrial cancer of two years ago and has forged on with her aspirations.

This last semester has been the hardest one yet for me. I started out the semester with a 3.85 g.p.a. but know that will take a dip. My main mistake was taking six classes. I took them all so I could graduate after this semester but I splayed myself out in all of them and only managed one A, in American National Government. For a guy used to getting straight A's, this semester has given my false ego a big hit. I dropped Geology and Geology Lab because it was just way too much work. More work than all my other classes combined. That's why I'm taking two science classes online during the summer. My College Algebra professor, Shelly Russell, told me I needed a 70 on my Final just to pass the course. I was really slacking in that class and didn't study at all for the exam until about 10 p.m. the night before. Radha, Vrn, Shyam and I all sat in the living room until about 3 a.m. cramming for our various tests the next day. All of us were ramped up on caffeine except Shyam, who would study a little and then play guitar intermittently. There was so much caffeine flowing that there was almost more talking than studying going on. Fortunately, I was able to study the next day and somehow pulled off a 75 on the Final for a C in the class. It was the most joyous C I have ever received in my life. I was hootin' and hollering and bouncing off the walls when Radha read the email with the results to me. No more Algebra ever again, at least in this lifetime! Radha got a 79 on the same Final and was able to pull off a B overall in the class. I am still unaware as to what my final grades will be in Topics of Math and International Relations. I will find out on Tuesday, supposedly. I am on the border of passing or failing each of them as well. I'm not proud of my procrastination this last semester but I guess it's an opportunity to live and learn.

A Brand New Waitress

2009-05-01T10:33:00.004-04:00

I want to tell you a funny story. Wednesday night we went out to eat at Bahn Thai, a restaurant we used to frequent on 13th Street when they served a massive vegetarian lunch buffet. They didn't only serve veggie-fare but because the husband-wife-owner-tandem were vegetarian, they were very careful about separation of church and state, if you know what I mean. The husband was the only cook and very meticulous about whoever helped him, therefore he generally cooked solo. Some years ago, they stopped the lunch program and became an evening-only establishment. They were becoming too old, the wife said, to keep up with the hard work. Over time, Chop Stix became the oriental fare of choice for us and Bahn Thai was all but forgotten. Anyway a funny thing happened to me there Wednesday night. Not hilarious but I got a kick out of it.

Now, Gainesville is not a big place and if you go out to eat enough, you quickly run out of options. Philadelphia, for example, has at least a dozen pure vegetarian restaurants, Atlanta has a good handful also, and New York, forget about it. Gainesville has got a couple that are pure veggie and several that are veggie-friendly. Still, if you live in this town and go to school and work like I do, sometimes you don't want to cook when you're under the gun. And this semester with six classes and all, it always seemed like I was under the gun. For it's population, though, there is a decent list of places you can find vegetarian meals. The only pure vegetarian places that I know of are The Book Lover's Cafe (next to Mother Earth on 13th Street) and The Green Mango (an Indian place run by a Hare Krishna Indian couple). Other than that, you have to sort through the meat-also places and hope nothing dead ends up on your plate. I'm okay with both Chop Stix and Bahn Thai because they are very conscious. Chop Stix claims they have a separate veggie-only kitchen and Bahn Thai's owners are vegetarian. Merlion, next to Chop Stix also serves vegan oriental fare. In fact, they not only have a separate section in their menu for vegetarian meals but a whole separate vegetarian menu that you can get by request. On University Avenue, there is Suci-To-Go, which used to be called Saigon Cafe, which serves some vegan Vietnamese dishes.

As far as pizza goes, there are a few places that are veggie-friendly. Leonardo's has a vegan pizza and multiple forms of veggie pies. The Original Pizza Palace has a tempeh pizza. Satchel's has many options and is an experience in and of itself with it's strong 1970's feel. You can eat of the back of a vintage van or visit their Lightning Salvage store in the back, drink Coke out of a glass bottle and listen to a live band. New York-Pizza Plus on 23rd Ave. and Main Street has got me dreaming of a white pizza, just like the ones I used to know.

Right across the street from Satchel's, is The Jones. The Jones is a breakfasty-coffee diner with many veggie and vegan options, including scrambled tofu, fried potatoes and a plethora of veggie soups and sandwiches. Topp, a block north of University Ave on Main Street, has long been a favorite of vegetarians in this town. They feature sandwiches, fries, pasta and vegan desserts that are likely to knock your natural-fiber socks off. There are also always the usual array of gyro and burrito places that will fill you up with their veggie fodder if you are in the right mood. If you want italian, Carrabba's is okay, as is Fresco's in the same plaza. Don't order the marinara in Carrabba's, though, it's got anchovies in it, unless of course, you don't mind the possibility of becoming a processed fish in your next life.

Anyway, there are more places to go, no doubt, but the purpose of this blog was not not make an exhaustive list of all the vegetarian places in this youthful college town. The purpose, don't worry I remember, was to tell a funny story about Bahn Thai. There was this girl named Elizabeth who served us there Wednesday. It was her first day and her anxious demeanor was cute. I ordered a baked tempeh preparation with broccoli. When she came to check on us, she asked, "How is that broccoli, it looks good?" "Try one," I said. "Really?" she asked hesitatingly. "C'mon," I said, pushing the plate toward her. "I haven't touched this side of it and I won't tell anybody." "Okay, but please don't tell because I'll lose my job." I couldn't believe she was actually going to do it. She looked over her shoulder and then reached down and grasped a piece of my broccoli with three of her fingers and quickly brought it to her mouth. "Mmmm, pretty good," she said. We all started laughing. I couldn't believe I got a waitress to eat from my plate. It was awesome.

Garg the Groper?

2009-04-23T09:22:00.008-04:00

A couple of days ago, I was glancing at the front page of the Independent Alligator and noticed an article about the UF groper being apprehended and charged with 31 counts of groping. Each count, it said, could carry a maximum one-year sentence and $1,000 fine. Apparently, the 22-year-old Indian student was telling women they had a bug on them of some kind and when they started freaking out about it, acting like he was going to brush it away, he groped them instead. You can imagine my surprise when I looked at the caption under his picture and it read "Garg." The student's name is Robin Garg. My friends have had a big kick out of it the last couple of days.

My weight has remained at 209 pounds for almost a week. It's frustrating but I have continued to hit the gym and know that muscle is still being added and fat is still being subtracted from the equation. Yesterday, I played basketball with Kesi, Kavi and Radha. I am amazed how my energy is up. We played two games of Kesi and Kavi against Radha and I. The first game they won but the second game, I hit nine three-point range shots in a row and we went up 9-2. They closed it to within 9-8 and then I was able to will the last two baskets in through sheer hustle for the win. This was an accomplishment considering Kavi and Kesi are both taller than me and Radha never plays basketball. Kesi has three inches on me and considerable stronger than I but I was able to block one of his charts and I frequently won the rebound battle, battling in the middle with the two of them. In the process, someone kneed me in the calf and I am still a little sore from it. After two games, they all quit but I wanted to play more. As they stood around and talked, I jumped on the treadmill for another 15 minutes and continued to work up a sweat.

I believe I am leaving for the summer around May 7th or so. I have to concentrate on finals for now. This has been the worst semester of my life, grade-wise. Taking six classes really back-fired. I came into this semester with a 3.85 grade point average. As of now, I have one A and am tottering with 3 C's. I had to drop two of my classes and will make them up online during the summer. What a mistake I made taking on such a work load! At some point, my mind shut off and I could not get beyond the mental barrier. I was burnt out and half-dead but still tottering on academic life-support. I am a little annoyed with UF because they requested to know where I was between 1982 and 1983. That was 27-years-ago for God's sake. I hand-delivered a letter saying I was traveling the country after I graduated from High School. After I found out that a girl I know from my Journalism class last semester got into to the Journalism college already, I became a little concerned for myself, having not heard from them yet. THe kicker is that she got a C in that class, whereas I got an A. When I checked my status online, I found out that they never processed the hand-delivered letter I gave them. I called and had it corrected but am afraid that their gaff may have spoiled my chances to get in this fall. "You traveled around the country and weren't gainfully employed?" the man asked. "Are you sure that's all you want to put?" "Make up a better-looking story for me if you want," I said. I was 18-years-old for Christ sake! Anyway, if I don't get in for the Fall, I will try for the Spring of 2010 and just make more money instead in the meantime. After all, without money, a man's sense of self-prestige is pretty low.

I watched Oliver Stone's "W" yesterday and was mortified by the incompetence of America's commander-in-chief for eight years. He was not only a spoiled rich kid but an ignorant buffoon as well who desperately tried to prove himself to Daddy. What an embarrassment it was to have this guy representing my country when I traveled overseas. I know there was a lot of poetic license taken in the movie but I cringe to think that there were enough dumb Americans to elect this guy for two-terms. Oh my God. It's as W. said himself, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me a second time, I won't get fooled again."

Creepy Estate Sale and Getting Under 210 pounds

2009-04-18T08:46:00.007-04:00

Last Saturday, my brother Kesi and I went to an estate sale in Dunellon that advertised record albums. The man explained to Kesi on the phone that he had about 300 albums he wanted to get rid of for one price as his parents had just died. When we got there, a skinny and wrinkled man who appeared to be in his sixties greeted us. When we walked into his cigarette-smoke-reeked home, whose living room looked more like a Las Vegas yard sale replete with a 60's slot machine in the foyer, the man led us into a narrow walk-in closet in a nearby bedroom. The albums were piled up on the floor and he looked at us and said, "It's the whole lot or nothing, fellas." Kesi and I knelt down in the back of the closet, the man hovering over between us and the doorway. The albums were in lousy condition and there were a lot of things I didn't care for. Apparently, someone was a big John Denver fan, as we thumbed through at least 11 of his LPs. I am a little claustrophobic, so having the guy watch our every move in the confines of the smoky closet was not pleasant. Kesi and I worked together to see if we could find anything. "Make me an offer I can't refuse," the man said. When Kesi looked up at the man, he had a look of shock in his eyes. "What is that?" Kesi asked. I was facing my brother and could see in his eyes that something strange was going on. "Oh, I just put a wig on," the man said. By the time I turned around, he had taken off an orange wig and placed it on a pile of other wigs and "women's" accessories on the closet shelf. After a moment of awkward silence, Kesi tried to change the subject, "These 78's are made of shellac and break easy." "I just take them outside and shoot them with my gun," the man said. Immediately, I started imagining the guy pulling out a gun and calculating how I would take him down. In my mind, I was grateful I had been working out for the last few months and figured since I was bigger, faster, stronger and younger than him, I would have a good chance to knock away his gun. Later, Kesi said he was thinking the guy might step out quickly and lock us in the closet. It was definitely a creepy feeling. Soon, the bidding started. We offered $10 and he countered with $25. Eventually, we settled on $18. He helped us load them into my car and we drove away, our lives still intact. Then I started thinking, you never really know when and if you have just met a serial killer.

Later, Kesi and I split up the ones we wanted. I ended up with Neil Young's Harvest, Ricky Nelson's Greatest Hits, an ELO record, some Burt Bacharach and a bunch of classical albums. We are going to sell the ones we didn't want to a local dealer. There was also a signed album from the group Alabama from the early eighties which we will try to sell on ebay.

I am done with my American Government class. It ended early with an easy Final exam, more than one week before the other classes end.

The last four days have seemed excruciatingly tedious for me in the weight-loss department but I have been able to lose another two pounds. Now I have officially lost 40 and have reached my goal of May 1st. I wanted to get down to 210 by the beginning of May and as of this morning, I am at 209. Now I set my sights on 199. It will be a real milestone because I will get under 200 pounds for the first time in nine years and I will have officially lost 50 pounds.

Storms, Plath, The I-Ching, and More Weight Lost

2009-04-14T08:52:00.006-04:00

Storms are interesting creatures. Tension builds and builds in the atmosphere until it has to be released. Then, when it does, there are some explosions and wind and things get pushed around a lot faster than they usually would. But then peace returns and the birds are chirping as if nothing ever happened. Life goes on and nobody blinks an eye. I don't know why I like dark skies in the early morning when there should be light.

I am about to go to the gym right now but thought I should say a small hello since I haven't written anything but poems for awhile. Gonna ride through the tornado-potential-storm and hope the power stays on there. It's a great feeling waking up lighter. I'm down to 211 pounds now; that's 38 pounds down and 46 to go. My short-term goal was 210 pounds by May 1st. Almost there with 17 days to go. One day at a time, one pound at a time- Fataholics anonymous.

I am reading Ariel by Sylvia Plath right now and find it intense, intelligent and a little macabre. She wrote several poems everyday before her death by suicide in 1963, according to Robert Lowell, who wrote the forward for the book. As I read, I see she had a masterful way with words that express her pain beautifully and concisely. Expressing and facing pain through poetry is a great way to become purged of it, especially when you're going through challenging periods of your life. She, however, appears to have had no intention of becoming free of it but instead, seems surrendered to it from the get-go as if taking her own life was already a by-gone conclusion. Anyway, I feel for her suffering and pray she is in a better place right now. As for me, I am expanding my influences beyond all the lyric writing that I was brought up on and Plath's Ariel has been a great place to start.

I threw the I-Ching yesterday for the first time in several years and remembered how I really liked it. It is a conservative and somewhat eccentric oracle that sometimes seems a little more tight-lipped than my sometime impetuous personality. Still, it strives to enlighten the user and make he or she a better human being. I do think it stresses society a little too much for my comfort as I am strongly independent-minded and don't give much of a rat's ass about what society thinks about me. Still, as a divination tool, it gives one insight about what kind of energies one will be dealing with in life and you can't ask for much more than that from an oracle, in my humble opinion.

Saturn's Interesting and Intense Influence

2009-04-09T14:48:00.004-04:00

I feel very much in limbo these days as I await word on whether or not I will be accepted into UF's Journalism College. I think I am psychologically prepared for either outcome. If I get in, I will take it as a great opportunity to learn and hopefully have some semblance of a career soon. When I went back to school two years ago, I was well aware that I could have started a free-lance writing career without a degree but I didn't think I was ready. Now, that I have sharpened my skills a bit and have written practically everyday since the summer of 2006, I feel much more qualified to get the ball rolling. Still, I would like more training. A big difficulty during my schooling thus far has been lack of money. Although I plan to work all summer, part of me wouldn't be so unhappy not to get into UF in the fall because then I could work even longer and get myself more set financially. In such a scenario, I theoretically could get into a program in the Spring of 2010 with much less anxiety. Whatever the case, as I said, I am psychologically prepared to focus on the positive of either outcome. I will see whatever happens as Krishna's arrangement.

As of late, I have been going through a rather interesting but trying astrological transit. Interesting from the point of view for me as the astrologer but trying from the point of view as me the person. However I see it externally, I ultimately see it more deeply as being good for me. You see, I was born with a direct oppositional mutual aspect of Mercury, which is my ascendant lord, and the Moon. In my birth chart, I am Virgo rising, with my rising lord Mercury at 24 degrees Leo and my Moon at 24 degrees in Aquarius. I think this, more than anything else, has given me both proclivity in astrology as well as writing. It has also made me kind of witty (if I do boast myself) and quick with the sometimes stupid or not so stupid joke. As the Moon rules the mind and Mercury rules the intelligence, I am keenly aware of my thinking, feeling and willing processes and the role the intelligence plays (or should play) in directing the mind. I am also very in touch with my subconscious through dreams and it has given me, to some extent, some intuitive and psychic prowess, as well as the ability to read people. I can tell a lot about a person the first time I meet them. As the saying goes, the cover sometimes makes the book or the expression on the face shows the index of the mind. These things I have come to accept over time as good things but one of the pitfalls of the transit is I feel things way too deeply for my own personal comfort and I over-analyze things and thus think way too much. I am also ultra-sensitive to what others are thinking and feel a little overwhelmed being in crowds sometimes. Often, when I am doing readings, I can get burnt out by other people's psychic movements.

Now, it just so happens that the old hard-lesson-teacher Saturn himself, has been camping out over my ascendant degree, and directly aspecting my Moon for the last couple of months. Not only that, but he seems to plan to stay a while longer. Now, I am well acquainted with Saturn, as I have the planet in the same sign as my Moon in my birth chart and in a good place sign-wise in Aquarius. Aquarius is considered to be Saturn's own sign and thus it tends to work well there. It also happens to be exactly across from my Sun in my natal chart which is a heavy influence unto itself. In short, I have learned a lot from Saturn and have experienced his teachings in the form of loss. I have also acquired some of its better qualities through sheer association. As a result, I have always been keenly aware of the miseries of life and have often felt compassionately for the suffering of others. As my Moon is in Aquarius, I probably have not shown myself to be in that consciousness as far as others have observed, though.

Whatever the case, and please excuse my rambling, this current state of transiting Saturn has really hit on a number of my nerves. Rather than feel depressed by Saturn's influence, I feel on some levels energized by embracing the intense mental austerity and on the precipice of positive change. It has made me peer into the fabric of life in such a penetrating fashion that I have become almost stymied or paralyzed by introspective analysis. I am not getting much sleep and any time I am alone I gravitate toward peeling away the layers of my life and witnessing the utter rawness of my existence and other's as well. Thankfully, Venus has been aspecting my ascendant during this process which has helped to considerably soften the blow. Because of this, the kindness and smiling faces of others, have made the whole ordeal bearable.

Although, I am generally one to analyze something quickly and make a swift decision, I have begun to seriously question my life's direction and have become open for some much needed fine-tuning. At the same time, I have felt over-burdened with an immense work and responsibility load (as is often the case with a Saturn transit) and find myself yearning the freedom to break out of the shackles that confine the real expression of the spirit soul in the material world. In other words, I have become extremely sensitive to my own personal limitations and have received clues as how to free myself from them. Most people live their lives wearing various masks which they think will somehow protect them from the threats of the outside world. It is my realization that these masks, rather than protect us, just make us phony and keep us from expressing our true selves free from the encumbrances of outside conditional pressure and expectations. As a result, we settle for less and further entangle ourselves in a life of unnecessarily jumping through senseless hoops for others. We end of leading lives that others want us to lead instead of what is good for us. This does not help them and it sure doesn't help us as individuals. I have felt rather isolated in this struggle, save and except for a few kindred souls, but have kept a positive attitude that I will come out of it a stronger, as well as a more creative and dynamic person. In short, I want to break free of the endless cesspool of excrement and live a more honest and true to myself life. Only in that state of consciousness will I be able to be creative in such a way to touch other's lives. During this process, I don't really care too much what anyone else thinks, either.

Eat This or That, Grow Thin or Fat, Never Mind I Wouldn't Do That, I'm Fat Enough Now

2009-04-07T21:47:00.005-04:00

Sorry to bore you with more weight loss stuff but I've had some realizations. Okay, I started at 249 and I'm now at 215, which means I've lost 34 pounds. Hooray. But when someone took some pictures of me yesterday, I looked at them and thought, "Boy, I am still fat." Does this reaction mean that I am not satisfied with my body and trying to come up to some ridiculous standard? Well, the answer is yes- I am not satisfied with the state of my body and the answer is no- I am not trying to come up to some ridiculous standard. I was just so far out there that it is taking sometime to get back to where I should be. In reality, I was ridiculously fat and just because I've lost a good amount of weight doesn't mean I'm no longer fat. It just means I'm less fat. While I'm encouraged that I have been able to lose what I have, I am not satisfied. Why? Because I'm still fat and I don't want to be fat.

According to standard calculations, someone who is my height and age should really weigh no more than 169 pounds if they want to minimize health risks. Well, that sounds about right to me because according to my estimation, I thought it would be nice to get down to at least 165 pounds when I first started my regimen. If that is indeed my target weight, then the implication is I have 34 pounds down and 50 pounds left to go. According to those numbers, I'm only 40 percent of the way there. Now 34 pounds is a lot of weight to have lost and I am happy and grateful about it. Also, I appreciate the encouragement and support I have received from others. When someone notices I have lost some weight, I can't help but cheer up a little. But the fact remains, if I really want to get down to an acceptable level, not only to my standards but what the general charts say, I will have to keep working at it for a long time. After that, I will have to continue to monitor myself as not to undo all the hard work. It's not going to be "Yippie, now please double-cheese the pizza," or anything close to that.

One of the reasons I think I can do it is because I have taken on a lifestyle where I am mostly mentally satisfied. I am not really depriving myself. I do have hunger attacks but I eat pretty much what I want to, I just eat less, I don't eat at night, and I exercise every day. That's it. Also, I've been doing it long enough now that I feel it is becoming a habit. Good habits are just as addictive as bad habits. I'm just so used to be addicted to bad habits that being addicted to a good habit is feeling a little strange right about now.

I'm going to be doing some hard traveling in the summer with a very nice guy who happens to be an avid eater. That is going to be quite a test. I think I will be able to get through the travels with determination. I will be able to hit the treadmill everyday at the hotel and hopefully do some other weight exercises to keep my body strong and in tone. While i can't expect to lose weight at the same clip as when I was at home, if I set a target to at least lose something modest, I will deem the trip a success from the health standpoint. May through August is going to be a long time but I am sure I will be okay if I stay sincere and keep up the good habits.

Still Fighting the Good Fight

2009-04-04T11:47:00.006-04:00

For those of you (like me) who have been waiting for me to fall off the wagon- the breaking news is I haven't done it yet. Over the last week I have lost another two pounds and am now down to 216 (that's 33 pounds vanished back into the totality of the material energy not including my body). It is getting harder now. I went through the 220's relatively fast but it feels like I have now entered into the vast intermediate zone. I could get complacent now but I feel determined not to. Besides the regular cardio-activity, the anaerobic regimen has worked like a charm. I highly recommend it to anyone. I started the weight-lifting on February 16, and now after a little more than a month-and-a-half I have gotten to the point of being open to going to the beach and walking around without my shirt on. I feel I am now somewhat presentable and no longer the Blubber-man-Gargs that I once was. Besides losing the weight, the weight-lifting has toned my body after only 15 total sessions. To get an idea of how I've progressed, I will submit a little chart below reflecting each anaerobic exercise, the date I started it, the weight I started at and how much I am lifting now. Each weight represents about 12 to 18 repetitions per session. All those repetitions takes about one minute to complete:

Leg Extension- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 80 pounds, present weight: 170 pounds

Leg Curl- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 80 pounds, present weight: 202 pounds

Pullover- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 60 pounds, present weight: 106 pounds

Arm Cross- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 60 pounds, present weight: 128 pounds

Chest Press- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 80 pounds, present weight: 146 pounds

Lateral Raise- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 60 pounds, present weight: 80 pounds

Overhead Press- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 100 pounds, present weight: 122 pounds

Bicep- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 80 pounds, present weight: 104 pounds

Tricep- start date: 2/16, starting weight: 60 pounds, present weight: 96 pounds

Ab Isolator- start date: 2/21, starting weight: 46 pounds, present weight 92 pounds

Torso Rotation- start date: 2/21, starting weight: 46 pounds, present weight: 124 pounds

Lumbar Strength- start date: 2/24, starting weight: 60 pounds, present weight: 158 pounds

I know this is not a huge amount of weight to lift for a grown man but you have to consider that although I excelled in sports as a teenager, I was also pretty much a nine-stone weakling with knobbily knees, as the Kink's song goes. At the same time, I don't want to end up resembling one of those torqued-out bug-eyed freaks of nature cranked up on testosterone who look like someone stuck a knife in their back and kept twisting until they had a really bad attitude and a real scary look. Anyway, the results have been coming for me including improved tone, posture, strength, speed, endurance, digestion, fat-burning etc, etc.

The regular lifting along with the regular cardio and watching what I eat has been working well for me thus far and I see no reason to change anything. I do want to add some stretching at some point, though. A lot of fat has fallen off my face, and mid section. My chest has held onto the disgusting stuff the longest. The two key words for me are patience and enthusiasm. I have to keep it up.

Shyam's knee cap popped out during soccer practice on Thursday and then quickly popped back into place. A similar thing happened to him when he was a sophomore in high school. I brought him to a specialist then who found no structural damage and he was out playing a game two days later. It took about two weeks for him to get back to full strength. Hopefully, this latest mishap, a little more than three years later, will also heal quickly and not be any kind of tear in his ligaments.

Radha and I went to the Santa Fe Art Show yesterday and I was impressed with a lot of the work. Vrn had a painting on display which I thought was very good. Leela also had one featured in the show as well. I'm surrounded by artists- my brother is a great artist, my nephew Kavi is good, as is Shyam and Radha. I pretty much suck but I would like to get into it just as therapy. In the mean time, I have been reading a lot of poetry and will try to incorporate some new styles into my own endeavors.

Wednesday at the downtown farmer's market, I ran into Tulasi-priya and she suggested a writer's group as well as a poetry reading group I could go to regularly. I am interested but think it will have to wait for the fall when my traveling is done. I hung out for about three hours with A.V. there and it was fun. He was selling herbs and I helped him out a little and talked to some of the customers. It felt almost like I had a store again.

Mike Viola Sings for Radha

2009-03-31T07:29:00.012-04:00

During the Mike Viola concert that we saw in Jupiter on Saturday night, Viola asked Radha what her name was. After about a minute of getting her name straight, he improvised a song about her which turned out to be both catchy and pretty funny. Somebody taped it and the next day it appeared on Youtube- "Oooo, I almost forgot her/ Oooo, I almost forgot her/ Oooo, I almost forgot her/ That girl, that girl, Radha." (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPlvN4t0dK0)

On the way there we almost crashed the rental van. The traffic stopped in front of us and Keshi didn't notice as he was looking in the rear view mirror. "Keshi!" I yelled and he slammed on the brakes. The van swayed from side to side but the anti-lock brakes worked very well. The way back was dangerous too, as we got caught in a serious storm on I-75 somewhere around Wildwood. The lightning was frequent, intense and spectacular. The downpour was as heavy as I've seen it in years. Keshi just drove right through it. I may have stopped if I was driving but it was really late and would have delayed us even more. We got home after 4 a.m. as it was. Of course, it's better to get home later than not get home at all. There was no hail or exceedingly heavy winds, so fortunately we all got home in one piece, or in six individual pieces, that is.

It was a fun outing with Keshi, Mark, Kavi, Radha, Vrn and I. We all had fun and pretty good chemistry. Keshi and I taking turns playing songs on the car stereo, Radha and Vrn laughing in the middle (especially Vrn), Kavi continually trying to hear what was being said in front of him and Mark looking like a young Roy Orbison in the far back with his serious face and dark sunglasses. Shyam was going to go but decided at the last minute to stay home. After we left, he drew the Ten of Swords about our trip and called a few times to see if we were all right.

Mike Viola and the girl he was playing with, Kelly Jones, signed autographs after the show and were very appreciative that we came all the way down there. Viola patted Keshi on the back as he walked off for intermission and then shook his hand after the show. My brother was in some sort of ecstasy. We had front row seats and really enjoyed the performance by one of the most talented but unheralded swinger-songwriters out there. Not that he's short of accolades. He has written with Adam Schlesinger's Fountains of Wayne and formed the critically-acclaimed power-pop groups The Candy Butchers and The Major Labels. He also performed the song "That Thing You Do" for Tom Hanks movie of the same name in 1996, which was nominated for both an Oscar and Golden Globe award. In 2007, he wrote and performed the soundtrack for the movie Walk Hard- The Dewey Long Story. He also produced and co-wrote Kelly Jones's new CD "She-Bang," who performed along side him at the show. His new solo CD is called Lurch and I highly recommend it. Personally, my favorite song by him is a song he performed under the moniker of the Candy Butchers called "She's Knows What to Do With Michael."

Mike and Kelly had great chemistry and the show was so good I would consider seeing them again if I get the chance. I want to see some concerts during my travels this summer. I don't know if Dhrits, my traveling partner will be into it, so I may have to slip away from him sometimes.

Why Criticize?

2009-03-26T09:17:00.005-04:00

This morning I crossed another milestone- this material body is now under 220; 218.5 to be exact. I have now lost over 30 pounds as I weighed in at 249 to begin with. When I was in the gym yesterday, one of the gossip programs had a little segment about Valerie Bertinelli. Apparently, some women are up in arms that she now looks great after her diet and regimen and posed in a small bikini at age 47. They showed pictures and she really does look good. The controversial case was built around the fact that they found some quote of hers from two years ago that she would never pose in a bikini. They were almost acting like she should be prosecuted. Perhaps she changed her mind. Has anyone ever thought of that? People do it all the time. Men claim women do it a lot but they still love them nonetheless. Some people also claimed she did it just to get in those Jenny Craig commercials. If that's so, even to an extent, then I say who cares? So, she made a little moo-lah on the side. I say, good for her. If the end result is she's healthier and happier with her self-image, is that really causing a load of damage?

Now, someone may say that Valerie doesn't represent what real people look like. That she is causing young girls to be anorexic or not eat a balanced and nutritious diet. First of all, I would agree that Valerie doesn't represent what real people look like, especially at 47. You know why? Because she fucking worked hard at it and most people are too lazy or convince themselves they don't have the time. I say why should she be criticized for working hard and getting good results? As far as the anorexia thing or bulimia goes, I obviously agree that people should eat a healthy and balanced diet. One mistake that Americans often make, though, is thinking that they have to consume gigantic quantities of food in order to get their nutrition. In reality, Americans eat way too much. They are the fattest people in the world by far. As George Carlin said, "They are gargantuan." Well, for myself, I plan on keeping my name Gargs, but losing that part of the definition. Besides, study after study has shown that when a person consumes less daily calories they are healthier and live longer. Smaller portions. What a concept. It sounds just like Europe. If you're very young, that's one thing. But once you get past 30, if you don't change your ways, it's only a matter of time before it catches up with you and grows and grows and grows over time.

A more pertinent question for me was how did she do it? Well, that's what they told us next. First of all, she regularly hit the treadmill, at least five times a week for 45 minutes a session. "Hey, that's cool," I thought. "I am already doing that, except that I go for an hour." Another thing she does is weight train every other day. Check for me also. Then finally, she limits her dietary intake to about 1200 calories per day. I'm also doing the same. At first, I didn't think I could do that part, but I just make sure I eat healthy and my stomach has shrunk. I still have cravings but nothing like I used to have. My appetite was formally insatiable but now I get satisfied quicker. I get satisfied faster but I eat slower. I'm no longer like some hyper hound wolfing down my food after a day running around in the yard. After the segment was over I was pleasantly surprised that what worked for Valerie Bertinelli is working for me. Let's see, eating less, cardio and weight training on a consistence basis. Doesn't seem like such a mystery to me. It's hard work but it works and over time you develop a taste for it. And there are many fringe benefits besides better health. I can fit into the old shirts now. Looking better is not a bad benefit either. People try to make it sound like it's not spiritual or something. That's bullshit. I say it could be much less spiritual to be a fat slob. Some people get fat because they don't want the opposite sex after them. How about losing the weight and being mentally strong instead of becoming a blob. Such a solution is much worse than the problem. I took my shirt off this morning and am actually seeing some definition appearing in my abs. I don't care if people say it's not spiritual or whatever. I am happy about it. It appears the Homer Simpson look is saying goodbye for good.

While saying all this, I don't believe that there is anything that can be objectively called an ideal weight. My philosophy is to each his or her own. If you're happy with your weight then go with it. If someone else calls you fat or too skinny, it shouldn't bother you. It's not a good idea to live our lives according to pictures in magazines, unless of course we want to. It is not all black and white, it is not all bad or good. We should be independently thinking intelligent people who make informed choices for ourselves and don't criticize choices other people make because it threatens or pressures us in some way. The pressure is only in our own minds. We should work on ourselves instead of lashing out at others. As far as I'm concerned, the more diversity in the world the better. It makes things so much more interesting. The main thing is to ultimately remember we are not our bodies as we wear different types of dress while living in the material world.

Cool

2009-03-23T20:34:00.003-04:00

The other day in my American Government class, I started leaving the room a few minutes after the lecture started to go and get some water because I was feeling quite parched. I thought it would be no problem as our professor Jay Maggio is generally very liberal about going in and out of class when we want. But as I walked down the steps he stopped his talk and gave me a glare. "Where are you going?" he said. "I really have to get some water," I said almost defensively. "I'm very thirsty." "I am too," he said. "Could you get me something?" "Sure," I said, amused and relieved. "What do you want?" "A coke would be nice," he said. The guy is so cool.

I fit into a shirt today that I haven't been able to fit into for six years or so. This is, I think, one of the best perks of losing weight. When I found it at the back of my closet this morning, I thought "I'll try it, what the heck?" To my surprise, I slipped into it with no problem. It is a John Lennon shirt that I got from Brazil over eight years ago. It says in Portuguese, "Living is easy with eyes closed. Misunderstanding all you see." Of course, that is a quote from "Strawberry Fields Forever." On the front is a huge head of John Lennon that could be seen as rather loud if it wasn't for the fact that it is in black and white. About a half dozen people came up to me that I never talk to and said they liked the shirt. It was definitely cool.

I weighed in this morning at 222 pounds. I have now officially lost 27 pounds. I like the regimen I now have down- lifting weights every other day, walking fast at least four miles everyday and eating much less. My stomach has shrunk and I am full more easily. I have not slept much for the last few months. I'm probably averaging about four hours of sleep per 24. I'm honestly not feeling too tired, though. I think that's kind of cool.

I can really feel the drive in my calf muscles. I'm bounding up stairs like I was a teenager again. I always had strong calves but now I am feeling the surge of power. I think I was letting the obvious truth that the body eventually dies and grows old, psyche me out make me age prematurely. Yes, the body will fall but it should be taken care of properly for a longer life of better quality. I can now run for an extended period on the tread mill without my knee hurting anymore. Double Garga power. It's so cool.

Getting Over the Flu

2009-03-22T07:19:00.003-04:00

I had a little case of the flu, which it appears I'm getting over. So, for the last couple of days, I stayed away from the gym to give my body recovery time. The nurse at Santa Fe College told me to be careful lifting dead weights as the straining could adversely affect my blood pressure. There are so many benefits that I am going to keep lifting and just keep an eye on the pressure regularly. Haven't been getting much sleep for a while, perhaps three or four hours a day. For the most part, though, I haven't felt that tired. I just go to sleep when I'm tired and wake up when it comes naturally. The good news was on the scale this morning. I continue to lose weight. Now I'm down to 223 pounds, making it now 26 pounds that I have shed. I'm assuming it's because I'm eating less and exercising more and that it's not because of some kind of curse like in the Stephen King movie "Thinner" or something. I plan on resuming my regimen at the gym today.

In terms of the eating, I made kichari yesterday morning and ate about a modest-sized bowl and a half with a couple of tortillas and plain yogurt. I overcooked the vegetables and didn't spice it too much as my stomach has been on the queasy side since I got this flu. At night, I ate nothing except a little leftover popcorn. My stomach has shrunk and I can much more easily now control my hunger episodes. Normally, I would have ate more during the day but I am trying to get this illness out of me early.

I saw the film "Watchmen" with Radha and Vrn on Friday night. Not my general genre of movie (I have never been your typical alpha-male action movie guy) but I really enjoyed it. The soundtrack was great and the movie was for the most part very well done. It's rated "R" and deserves that rating, so be aware if you are thinking about bringing younger children. The violence was shocking for me at first. It is intense. At first, we were planning to see the movie "The Reader" but got there late. So, instead, we hung out at Walmart and waited for the 11:45 showing. The movie lasted almost three hours and I am happy to say I only drifted off to sleep once and that was for just a split second.

I've got two major tests coming up on Friday that will have great bearing on my grades in Algebra and Geology. I really need to get cracking on the study early this week before the anxiety of not studying starts to crack me.

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News

2009-03-20T19:11:00.005-04:00

As I was checking out at Mother Earth on Thursday, Dr. Yang, an acupuncturist, called me over to his table to do a free examination on me. I put my protein shake down and he immediately asked me if I had any pain. I couldn't think of any, so after some time I said, "I've had acid reflux in the past." "Ahhh, acid reflux," he said. "Very good!" "Very good?" I thought. "What's so good about that?" I guess he felt he now had something to sink his teeth into. At that moment, he started pushing on various places on my ear. "Does this hurt?" he asked. "No," I said. And then again and again. "Does this hurt?" "No." Does this hurt?" "No." "Does this hurt?" 'No." Finally, and seemingly frustrated, the doctor started pinching my ear rather hard. "Does this hurt?" he asked. "Ah yeah, but only because you're pinching it," I said. "Very good," he said. At this point he took out a little tab from a sheet of tabs and stuck it to my ear. There was a slight burning sensation. Then he asked me to stick out my tongue. "Oh, I see line on your tongue," he said. "That mean problem in the digestive system." "Okay," I said. "What should I do?"

He then handed me a flyer entitled Home Care for Chronic Digestive Problems. The advice seemed good- i.e. take care when eating food, eat warm, easily digestible food, not too many drinks with ice, small and frequent meals, drink ginger tea and eat healthy soup etc. There was even a yoga exercise, a meditation, and self-massage instructions. "If you do these things, you will get better but first you must come in for a consultation and I will prescribe for you special herbs," he said. "Uh-huh," I said. "How much?" "$120 for first visit and $80 for all visits thereafter." "Even if I was sick, which I wasn't. How can he be sure I would get better?" I thought. After all, everyone eventually falls ill and doesn't recover unless they die due to violence or an accident. The funny thing is, that night I actually started feeling a little ill. It hit me later while I was playing basketball.

Today, I left my Algebra class early to go seek out help from the School Health Center. I figured perhaps they could give me a strep throat test to see if I my throat and lung irritation was being caused by a virus or a bacteria, in which case I could get some antibiotics. After a number of steps, the nurse found nothing and said I should just get some rest and take it easy on the exercise for awhile. My blood pressure was a little high, so she gave me the obligatory talk about the silent killer. You know, something health care practitioners regularly say in order to help them feel useful. After that, I was back out onto campus, feeling a little weak and wondering if the acupuncturist had pulled any tricks with his burning tabs to make me feel sick and thus compelled to fork over $120 to him for services.

The Death of Clifford Johnson, School and the Bobster

2009-03-19T07:41:00.006-04:00

I was talking to Vrn yesterday evening and she told me a story of how when she recently came back from New York, her mother and herself drove by Walgreens in Alachua and saw a man dead on the road who had just been run over. Several nights ago, I was playing basketball with AV, Shyam and several of Shyam's friends including Kana, who related the following story about the same man. Apparently, during the weekend, a drunk man in his fifties approached Kana in front of Danino's in downtown Alachua and asked him for a quarter. When Kana said he didn't have any money the man was polite, "Next time I see you and have money, I'm going to buy you a beer," the man said. "Sorry, I'm not old enough to legally drink yet," Kana said. "That's all right," the man stammered. "My name is Clifford Johnson. What's your name, anyway, son?" "Kana," Kana said. "Kona?" the man said. "No, Kana" "Kina?" "No, Kana." Finally the man got it. "Kana," he said and kept repeating "Kana, Kana, Kana," as he walked away. No more than a minute or two later, Kana heard a loud screech and a thud. When he got to the accident scene, he also saw the man dead, his last words being possibly Kana, which is a nickname for baby Krishna. It is well known in the Vedic literatures, that if one utters or hears the name of God at the time of death, one elevates their position in their next destination.

Yesterday was what I call Massive-Wednesday, referring to my heavy load of school. I came very close to not going to my Geology class. I sat out in my car in the Santa Fe parking lot and tried to convince myself it would be all right not to go. I was tired from not much sleep the night before and already had a full day of school. The rebel in me just wanted to blow it off. After Geology class would also come a three-hour Geology lab. Radha thinks I complain too much about Geology Lab. "What's the big deal, Dad," she says. "You're complaining about a f_ing field trip." First of all, I'm not big on science and second of all eight straight hours of school is not like working an eight-hour job. It's mentally exhausting and doesn't end there. After class there is much homework to do. So I sat there, contemplating dropping Geology and taking another science online during the summer to finish up, thus reducing my work load, and going to journalism school in the Spring of 2010 instead. Let's just say I was one fried puppy. Every time I picked a Tarot card, however, it advised going to class. I picked cards again and again. Only positive cards came up when I asked what the result would be if I went, and only negative cards came up when I asked what the result would be if I did not go. The cards helped to change my mind, something that an intelligent look at the situation could have done by itself. Still, sometimes I am confused and the cards have never steered me wrong. "Okay, I'm going to go but only to Geology and not to the lab," I thought. Besides, I'm feeling under the weather, anyway, and can just say I feel ill and dismiss myself." So, I trudged toward the X-Building calculating all the possibilities inside my head.

Even though I have taken on a heavy load this semester, I have to look at it like it's a job. If I don't show up, my pay is going to get docked, pure and simple. Some classes I can skip once in a while where the work load and subject matter are not so difficult. I walked out of American Government class yesterday, for example, because the teacher didn't show up for the first half-an-hour of class. Whether or not he showed later, I will eventually find out, but I knew it didn't matter because I have a high "A" in the class and he is very light on student work load. My Geology teacher, on the other hand, announced that the exam would be pushed a class back and then tried to compensate the good news by saying "We'll have to make the test extra hard to make sure you guys don't get complacent. The sad thing is, I don't think he was joking. He is probably going to take what was an already difficult test and tweak it to an even higher degree of difficulty.

For all you Bob Dylan fans out there, there is great news. On April 28th, the Bobster releases the new studio album Together Through Life. About it, Mojo journalist Michael Simmons writes, "Yet what I heard [on the album] offered ample proof of an artist steeped in the past but throughly living in the present, cognizant of everything, not afraid to point fingers or laugh at fools or fall in love." As to how it all came about, Uncut's Allan Jones writes, "Dylan had been asked by the French film director Olivier Dahan, who made the Edith Piaf biopic, La Vie En Rose, which Dylan had apparently liked, to write songs for his new movie My Own Love Song.

Dylan duly cam up with a ballad called "Life is Hard," and was so inspired that the next thing anyone knew he'd written nine more new songs, and not long after that- bingo!- here's Together Through Life in all its rowdy glory."

By my count, this is the 54th album to released by Dylan and the fourth studio album in the last 12 years. His latest release, the double c.d. Tell Tale Signs in 2008, was a collection of rare and unreleased gems dusted off from the vault over the last 20 years. One particular song, entitled Red River Shore been played very heavily on my iPod since its release. The song is an adaptation of the Kingston Trio's song of the same name but revamped with completely different lyrics. Dylan performs the song hauntingly and in it poignantly captures the wrenching human experience of lost love.

Recently, a friend unfamiliar with the Bobster, asked me to recommend a Dylan album for him to listen to from beginning to end first. "It depends on your mood," I said. There are not just so many good ones, there are so many worthy ones, so many great ones. If I tried to name a Dylan top ten album list in no particular order, I'm sure I would change my mind soon thereafter. I'm going to try to anyway: The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, Bringing it All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisted, Blonde on Blonde, Desire, Blood On the Tracks, Oh Mercy, Time Out of Mind, Love And Theft, and Modern Times.

Dylan has to be the single greatest inspiration in my own poetry writing. Now, that I am going through a heavy Saturn transit, I find myself returning to his music again and again.

When I Met Krishna

2009-03-17T20:38:00.004-04:00

It was 1981 and early in my senior year of high school. I was walking out of the East Brook Mall in Willimantic, Connecticut with two friends named Steve Walton and Clyde Hall. In my hand, I was holding a bag with Jimmy Hendrix's "Axis Bold As Love" album in it, that I had just purchased at Music World. I had loved Hendrix's "Are You Experienced," and had played it again and again over the summer as I delved deeply into the world of marijuana and LSD. Though, by this time, I was burning out on drugs, so to speak, I was still anxious to get into this next taste of Hendrix. On the cover, was a picture of Krishna's Universal Form (I had never seen it before) but with Hendrix's head super-imposed on the bodies.

We had skipped last period and gone to the mall that only a few months before Steve had escaped from security after trying to steal a music cassette. The security guard had grabbed him and was calling the police when Steve, a member of the football team, broke free with a snap of his wrist and ran out into the parking lot, over a stream and through the woods to get away. Considering this, Steve was understandingly paranoid when an official looking person approached us in the parking lot just as we got to our car. He said he was doing a survey for Yale and starting naming subject matters and asked us what we felt about them. When he got to science I said I didn't care for it because I thought their conclusions were too close-minded and excluded the possibility of a metaphysical world.

Upon hearing that, the man's eyes lit up and he presented us a glossy book entitled "Life Comes From Life." Steve immediately acted indifferent but told the man to show it to me because I was into "weird stuff" like witchcraft and out of body experiences. Clyde and I felt drawn, though, and gazed down at the cover. I was instantly interested in its other-worldly look. There was a picture of an elderly Indian man walking with a cane. I immediately wanted to know what the book had to say. When the man asked us for money, Clyde and I pooled about $3 together in mostly change. The man said thanks and walked away towards his next car. Little did he or I know how much that two minute exchange would alter my life forever.

Later, I would meet him in Boston. His name was Vrajendra-nandana, a veteran book distributor. To this day, wherever he is, I thank him for the spiritual bomb he dropped on my life that afternoon. A few years later, I would go out to distribute books and understand the great sacrfice involved and the immense fortune that results from giving others the gift of transcendental literature. But now, I was riding home from school in the back of Steve's car, passing a joint around, listening to Rush's 2112, and flipping through the new book with the far out paintings in it.

Both Clyde and I took turns with the book and both of us were affected. The first thing I read when I opened it up was Srila Prabhupada saying something that sounded a little too far out for my spirtually virgin ears to comprehend. He was explaining the logistics of how residents of the higher planets descended to earth via reincarnation to take a human form. There is a similar statement in the Bhagavad-gita As it is, 8.3 purport, where Srila Prabhupada explains:

In the process of sacrifice, the living entity makes specific sacrifices to attain specific heavenly planets and consequently reaches them. When the merit of sacrifice is exhausted, then the living entity descends to earth in the form of rain, then takes on the form of grains, and the grains are eaten by man and transformed into semen, which impregnates a woman, and thus the living entity once again attains the human form to perform sacrifice and so repeat the same cycle.

"Incredible," I thought. As I read on, the main thing that I noticed is how 100-percent Srila Prabhupada was convinced that Darwin was wrong. His arguments were the best I had ever heard against the concept that life generates from dead matter. "What's the difference between a living body and a dead body?" he asked. The answer was that matter could not move unless it was touched by spirit. He also pointed out the fact that when the soul leaves, the body is no longer animate. He challenged the scientists to create life in the labratory, even a single blade of grass. He then boldly referred to them as rascals for bluffing the innocent populace. How could something so organized as the universe and nature come into being by some accident or big bang? His presentation was heavy, but it seemed without anger or personal animosity.

Another factor that attracted me was that although he was totally convinced (and convincing I might add) he didn't come off as a fanatic like a Born-again Christian or something. His arguments were based in logic although he kept quoting the Vedic scriptures. He seemed to have access to some ancient knowledge that was just as relevant today as it ever was in the past. From reading his words, I got the immediate feeling that he was the living example of this knowledge. At the time, I was a practicing Rosicrucian to some extent and had dabbled in white witchcraft and different types of meditation. I had been a vegetarian of sorts for a little while as well. I had always dreamed of finding some source of ancient knowledge that would delve deeply into all my questions about life and transform me into some mystical wizard or something living in an enchanted forest. Perhaps this was it.

Clyde liked the book as well; but of everyone my brother got into it the most. He started adopting the philosophy immediately and we would talk about it often. Soon other books started to appear. My friend Mike found a softback Gita in an abanoned gym locker. Another friend gave me a copy of "Search for Liberation" which was a conversation between John Lennon, George Harrison and Srila Prabhupada. "Wow, the Beatles met Srila Prabhupada and they were into him. Amazing!" I thought. Being a huge fan of the Beatles, I thought if they were into Hare Krishna then it was definitely something I should further investigate. After sometime, I realized that the song "My Sweet Lord" had the Hare Krishna mantra. I had been hearing it all these years and hadn't even noticed it. My interest gradualy became more than just casual.

From the back of the books, we contacted a store on the west coast and started ordering more books and beads for chanting. When they arrived, we started chanting Hare Krishna in circle groups, getting many of our friends involved. There was my brother Kevin and I, Phil, Mark, Clyde, Randy, Donna, John and whoever else would chant with us from time to time. Chanting the maha-mantra became quite infectious for me. It was truly amazing how it changed my way of looking at things. Daily, I was getting profound realizations about life. Krishna was obviously giving me a taste. I remember an edited yellow paperback Gita that arrived in the mail. I started making it my nightly practice to chant a round and then relax by smoking marijuana and finally reading an hour from Prabhupada's Gita. I remember looking through the glossary and index to try to find the definition of illicit sex. Sex can be spiritual, I thought, so what is this illicit sex that is prohibited?

I vividly recall the scare I got one night when Prabhupada warned in a purport not to copy the isvaras or controllers like Lord Shiva by smoking ganja, like some of Shiva's followers do. He wrote that Shiva drank an ocean of poison, but if we drink one such drop we would die immediately. Similarly, those who imitate Shiva by smoking ganja regularly, he said, are actually drawing death very near. I got the hebee-gebees when I read that one. I had been smoking everyday for four years. Marijuana already can make you paranoid enough, but reading this while on the stuff... it was quite spooky. It didn't take long after that, before I gave up the drugs for good. I also became frightened when I saw a painting by Jadurani of the half-man half-tiger face (a reincarnation promise for those who eat meat).

It startled me. "This is uncut reality," I thought.

Through Another Threshold and Man- Dates

2009-03-16T17:31:00.005-04:00

This morning I stepped on the bathroom scale after not having looked at my weight for a few days and received the good news that I now weigh 226.5 pounds. Woo-hoo, I was ecstatic. I had been impatient with the fact that I had been stuck at 230 for a while and now it seems I have finally made it down through to the next level. As I started at 249 pounds, that's a total of 22.5 pounds lost since I began this program a couple of months ago. Because of the weight-lifting, I'm feeling stronger everyday as well and quite pleased with my progress. I now have to use this as an incentive to work harder rather than rest on my laurels. It is the hard work that has paid off and left me feeling better and with so much more energy. Now, I have to think there are more good things to come.

One of the adjustments I made that I think helped me get to this level is added exercise at night and refusal to eat anymore after about five 'o' clock. On certain occasions I will eat at night but only something light and in small quantities. I feel like I'm really on a roll now and I don't mean a jelly roll. Last night, I played basketball with AV and fared better than our last game. Although I lost 52-46, I played well and my skills are returning. I shot the bell sharply but still have a hard time posting up against him, although I am taller than him. On offense, he has a great burst with a low center of gravity. I keep telling him he missed his calling and should have been a running back.

School has restarted its engines and I'm now in for the kick-run of my Santa Fe life. I'd like to improve in all six classes in the weeks that remain and hope that I'm admitted to UF Journalism College for the fall semester. I would be wise to buckle down and study the subjects gradually and as they are taught to me instead of waiting until the end to cram for the exams. That is my challenge now. I hope I am up to the task. I have the ability but time will tell whether I follow through on what I know I have to do. I have this incredible wait-to-the last-minute-because-I think-I'm-smart-enough tendency. The problem is when I get home after so many classes, I don't want to study anymore. I guess I believe in the adage that all work and no play makes Gargs a dull boy.

I stopped at Fresh Market after school today. Radha stayed in the car while I went in. The classical music and specialty foods puts me in a pretty good mood almost every time I go in there. I picked up some veggie sushi and a loaf of freshly baked bread.

Okay, I think it's hilarious that some women feel it so necessary to take the initiative to cohort with their female friends in order to get their men together on what I call man-dates. What the hell is that? Boring, that's what it is. Groveling to get along with someone you barely know and have not much inclination to know either. And these women are standing around peering in as if you're behind the glass and expecting you to bond like you're different breeds of canines or something. I say, if a grown man can't make friends on their own then they're probably anti-social and not so interesting to be around anyway. A little free advice to women: let your man be on this one. No self-respecting man wants to feel coerced to have more of his already dwindling time taken up in some extra-curricular activity you consider "nice," "healthy" or "cute."

Falling Asleep at the Wheel

2009-03-15T10:00:00.004-04:00

I left Miami at 8 p.m. last night for the long journey home by myself. I have driven this route at night many times before but usually with Glani. Once, in a daze, I was driving around 1 a.m. in the middle lane on I-75 North as Glani slept. Suddenly, headlights appeared from around the corner and before I could say "What the hell is that?" a wrong-way car going at least 100 miles an hour narrowly missed me. How's that for a wake-up call from my zombie-like stupor?

Another time, when on our way back from Atlanta, I was driving in the passing lane on I-75 South just before the I-475 connection. Up ahead, I noticed a bunch of people standing around a stopped-car in my lane. I swerved at the last second and continued on. As soon as I looked in my rearview mirror, I saw a van behind me that didn't swerve. Next, there were flames shooting into the sky and a host of fast moving cars careening off the freeway into the woods.

Once, while crossing Alligator Alley, I saw an SUV just two cars ahead of me start going off the road onto the grassy curb. The lady driving jerked the wheel and got her vehicle back onto the highway. Heading then to the other side, she jerked the wheel again in an effort to compensate. In a flash, the SUV was airborne and flipped over landing on its roof. I pulled to the side with some other cars to see what the fate of the occupants were. I feared the worse as I saw kid's sneakers and clothes strewn out on the highway. Fortunately, only the driver occupied the vehicle and she sustained at worse a broken collarbone.

In 1999, Glani and I were stuck in a very annoying traffic jam on I-85 just south of Commerce, Georgia. When I saw an RV rolling backwards toward me, I wasn't worried. Glani was, though, and started freaking. As it got closer, I became concerned too and started beeping my horn. The RV kept on rolling and ended up hitting us and settling on our trunk. At that point, the RV moved forward. I thought it was going to pull over but it didn't. Next time the jam stopped, I got out of my car and knocked on the man's window, convincing him after some struggle to get off the highway so we could call the police. When we got to a gas station he looked at me and said, "No need to call the police. Here's my card. My wife and I are going to a flower show. When I get home I'll take care of the damages. You can trust me, I'm a strong Christian."

I smiled and said "praise Jesus" but called the police anyway. Later, the man tried to claim it never happened and refused to pay. My insurance company didn't believe me but when I contacted his, they went out and took pictures of both the back of his RV and the front of my vehicle. My damage and his protruding metal matched. I was awarded a check and the strong Christian's insurance went up.

In 1992, I was driving off an exit on a newly snow-covered road in Connecticut. By the time I saw the 18-Wheeler in front of me, it was too late to stop without sliding out of control. So, slide I did, luckily coming to a stop just before the Jan and Dean-style impact.

In 1982, I was in the back seat of my friend Phil's car after losing shotgun in a fight with my brother. We were driving on an old windy road called Jared Sparks in the winter with snow banks plowed up to each side of us in Willington, Connecticut. When a car pulled out in front of us, Phil had to swerve to avoid it. I was chanting Hare Krishna on my beads intently but as soon as I saw we were going to hit the tree, I dropped by beads and screamed "AAAAHHHGGGG!!!" After the impact, I was okay but my brother and Phil both hit their heads pretty hard. I picked up my beads and went back to my "sincere" chanting.

One last anecdote: Another time in Willington, around 1992 I think, I was stopped at a light when a young UConn student smashed into me from behind with his porsche. It was at that same light around 11 years earlier that someone else had hit me from behind. This time, I got out of the car and said I was all right to the paramedics when some strange liquid started oozing out of my nose. They strapped me down in a gurney and transported me to the hospital. Later, I was awarded $15,000 for my inconvenience.

All of these thoughts and more crossed my mind around midnight after I dozed off and started crossing lanes only to be awakened by the fact that I had fortuitously leaned forward into the horn. I felt perfectly awake and suddenly I was out like a light. I had risen at six a.m. and by the time midnight rolled around I had driven almost nine hours and worked at least six. I was Garg-xhausted and reminded that there is indeed danger at every step.

Old Age Hurts

2009-03-13T23:54:00.003-04:00

My sisters Linda and Patty are here at my father's home in St. Cloud, Florida taking care of my father's situation as he tries to recover from his recent surgery. They were going over his diet according to a pamphlet called "2200 Calorie Diabetic Cardiac Diet." Just hearing all the do's and don'ts' made me dizzy. My sisters are so nice and dedicated to drop their lives in Connecticut to come down here and take care of him. My Dad will be 85 this July and is recovering from the double-by-pass surgery he had a couple of months ago. He finds walking difficult but he refuses to use the walker. As I wrote in a poem tonight, he wobbled into the kitchen where I was on my MacBook to get some chocolate pudding on two occasions. Each time, taking the lid off was difficult for him but you could see in his eyes that he didn't want any help with it.

My step-mother Jenny just turned 88 and has been in the hospital for some time with digestive problems. My father said she has "down-syndrome"- meaning everything she eats immediately goes down and out of her. She has developed some digestive-related staff infection and is fighting that off now to the best of her ability. She is very skinny- perhaps under 80 pounds. It is difficult to see their lives slowly slipping away.

They are both strong-willed. About ten years ago, Jenny had a kidney and much of her intestines removed, along with a grapefruit-sized malignant tumor. About five years ago, she broke her hip during a hurricane. Someone knocked on the door in the middle of the night to see if my Dad and her were all right. They both got up in the dark and my father accidently knocked her over while walking to answer the door. "Thanks for being so concerned," my father sarcastically told the neighbors. She had already had one hip replaced years before and was a long time sufferer of osteoporosis. Somehow she has trudged on.

My Dad must be very strong to survive the kind of surgery he got at his progressed age. I couldn't believe they were giving a man of that advanced age such invasive surgery. They basically saw your chest open, stop your heart and do the procedure before sewing you back up again. I knew a man who had the same procedure in his forties and said it felt like an elephant was on top of him when he woke up.

Dad has been stubborn about rehab. It must be very depressing for him to not be able to work in his workshop and build the "dummies" that used to "work" in his yard at tasks like climbing a ladder or mowing the lawn. They were a hit of the neighborhood. He usually is a million laughs a minute but now he doesn't have much to say. It's a very difficult time of life for him. When I first went into his room, he asked me how me and the family was doing and then became transfixed in WWE (Wrestling). I have to leave at seven tomorrow morning and feel bad I can't spend any more time with him.

The material world is a painful place. I am really committed to getting fit and taking care of my health because I want to avoid as many complications as possible when I get older. I want to live to a healthy, productive and ripe old age, man. Of course, there are no guarantees for the material body other than the fact that it will eventually get old and die. That is assured.

Long Walk, Basketball, Veggie Sausage and Chocolate-Covered Strawberries

2009-03-12T23:46:00.008-04:00

Writing this blog regularly kind of makes me bored with myself sometimes but I'm still glad I'm doing it. Life is an adventure and life is a bore. The energy flows in drips and drabs or sometimes it feels like Grand Central Station, or in other words, coming from all directions. This vacation has been nice but I really have to hit the road tomorrow to make a little moo-lah.

Today, I walked all the way to the 13th Street Walmart and back. In the process, I snapped over 100 pictures. Lots of them were boring but there were a few keepers. I met Kalakantha somewhere on 13th Street and was able to take a couple pictures of him, for instance. Sometimes, I see nice potential pictures but I don't take them because I'm concerned that people will protest. Whatever the case, I posted almost all of the ones I did take on my Facebook account. You can be the judge. I'm one of those completists. I want it all and I want to show it all. I can't help myself.

I played Shyam in basketball today and beat him two out of three games. It was cool. I beat him barely in game one and game three, while he killed me in game two. In that game he put on a burst of energy and played at a whole other level. He's an athlete and I'm a crafty veteran. Luckily for me, I was hitting my outside shots and free throws.

I bought another batch of veggie sausages from Devadeva today then met Chakradhara between Alachua and Gainesville and sold him two of them. As I am going out of town, I figured I could spare two. She joked that I was selling them on the black market.

The good news is that this morning I weighed in at 230 pounds. I have now officially lost 19 pounds. Hooray. The bad news is, well there isn't any bad news, at least I don't choose to acknowledge it if there is. I'm really hoping that the scale will read below 230 in the morning. That would be so awesome to dip below 230. Hopefully I don't gain any wait on this damn trip. I really want to get below 200 pounds by the time the summer comes and goes but that is going to take a lot of work. I hope Raghavendhu will show me some exercises I can do in the hotels because I am dependent on my gym routine right now.

Radha took the car out by herself today to get the ingredients for chocolate covered strawberries. I remember when Leela (Woodham) made them here once. They've become a hit in the house ever since. I think Vrn and Jahnavi were also here and we all played Apples to Apples, if I am not mistaken. I think I also turned them onto flight of the Conchords that day. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, so I don't generally eat the chocolate strawberries but they sure looked good after Radha made them. Glani has made them for Hridayananda Maharaja once or twice in the past to rave reviews.

Let's see, where do I find the balance? I'm losing weight, getting in shape and feeling great but I still could sure use some money. At the same time, I have to get ready for the kick run of this final semester at Santa Fe. I'm going to feel sad when I graduate from the place. It's actually been fun.

Lift Outrageous Weights

2009-03-11T23:52:00.004-04:00

It seems like it's going to take forever to get my body back into decent shape. Although I have lost 18 pounds, I have been hovering around at the 231 mark and its frustrating. Today, for example, I went to the gym, worked out on weights on about 15 machines and ran on the tread mill for an hour. In the evening, I drove to Alachua and played basketball with AV for another hour-and-a-half or so. When I got home, however, my weight appeared to be the same.

I know, I know; I just have to somehow be simultaneously patient and enthusiastic. But it's hard. Now, one of the things I should remember, and I have mentioned this before, is that muscle weighs more than fat and I have been converting fat to muscle via the weight training. I feel more burst in my calves and thighs and more strength in my arms. Of course, if I keep changing fat into muscle and stay at this weight, I'll eventually look like a heavy-weight prize fighter, and that's not really the look I'm looking for.

The weight training is getting tough. Before, I breezed right through the line and then went up in weight exponentially in the next session. Now, I can only go up a little at a time if any and I really struggle. It's like I can feel and hear my body ripping as I go on. And I don't mean "ripping" in the positive sense like "he's ripped." I have to take deep breaths and get an insane look in my eye before I lift, like one of those guys I used to see on ABC's Wide World of Sports. I want to start doing some yoga and stretching to balance this shit out. When I was a teenager I once wrote a poem against weight lifting that went:

Lift outrageous weights

All day until that

You excite all the girls

With stretched flesh of no fat

Then 20 years later

Dead you'll be found

Heart-attacked

Cramped

Couldn't move

Muscle bound

I don't really believe that stuff nowadays but I still can't stand those over-testosteroned monstrosities of human-existence who are always walking around all goo-goo eyed and ramped up on 'roids as their brains gradually shrink even smaller than it was to begin with.

The cardio is giving me good stamina. The result is that I didn't get very tired playing basketball this evening and basketball demands a lot of energy. When AV and I were warming up, two kids came over and challenged us. Although neither of us had played for a year and we're both over 40, we whipped them easily in both games we played them. Later, we went one on one up to 51. He beat me handily 52 to 30 but I just need to work on my outside shot a little and I'll be fine. Get you next time AV.

I think another part of the frustration is when I was really fat (meaning fatter than I am now), I didn't want to look in the mirror. It was too painful. Now I can do it and although I see I have a long way to go, at least I see that some presentable form of human being is returning. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a low self-image. I just truthfully acknowledge that my body is unfit and needs some serious work. I think it's healthy to be dissatisfied with your own state of affairs if it motivates you to improve.

To tell you the truth, I'm getting a little sick of hearing me blog about this weight issue. Still, it's an obvious part of my life right now and I am going in the positive direction, so why not write about it? If I am being a bit redundant, I am sincerely sorry.

Odds and Evens

2009-03-11T10:57:00.005-04:00

Toshan called me over to his table at the feast yesterday. Sitting with his wife Madhurya-lila, he grabbed my hand and said "Gargamuni, I had a strange dream about you last night." "Yes?" I said curiously. I dreamed that you and I were being shot at in the street." "You mean like some kind of drug war or something?" "Something like that," he said. "You were hit a couple of times and were taking cover lying on your belly and I was running over to save you." "Oh my God," I said. "You weren't hit bad," he said "They only had 22's and you were just grazed."

We've hit a warm spell here in Alachua County. It was in the 80's yesterday and will continue in the low to mid-80's with almost no chance of rain through the weekend. The weather was heavenly at the temple yesterday evening.

I'm going to go out on the road by myself in search of some doh-ray-me starting Thursday and may stay out all the way until Sunday. This is what my Spring Break "vacation" comes down to. It's like out of the frying pan and into the fire. I could ask someone to go with me but I think I'd rather go it alone this time. I'm pretty much going to stay in the South Florida area and hope I can find a decent price on hotels, otherwise it will somewhat defeat the purpose. If I go by myself, the expenses will be higher, but so will my income and freedom. My irritation rate should thankfully be lower.

The Gaura-Purnima program at the temple was nice. I put on the big white diaper (dhoti) for perhaps the second time in the last year or so and hobnobbed with old friends milling about the temple midway. Shyam had asked me permission to take the van to go to Saint Augustine and camp for a night. Both of us had forgotten he was planning to go on Gaura Purnima. He told me he's chanting several rounds every day, recently read "The Perfection of Yoga," and is about half-way through the Bhagavad-gita. Although he didn't go to the evening Gaura-Purnima festivities, he did go to the morning program before he left for Saint Augustine. I never forced Krishna consciousness on him when he was growing up and am now happy to see him becoming more serious about spiritual life. Govinda went through a similar transformation several years ago. Now, let's see what happens with the Shyam-man. The coach from the South pines Club team called for him yesterday to see if he wants to play on their team as a guest-player for the State Cup soccer tournament for U-19's.

I walked to Colen's, across from Ben Hill Griffin Stadium at the Gator Plaza, to get my hair cut. This time, the oriental lady K.C. cut my hair. As she cut, I heard the owner complain about Obama to one of his friends. "He just gave away $400 billion more, that makes $1 trillion now," the owner said. "Yup," said the friend. "They have to borrow it from Korea or China," said K.C. "Now, how do you suppose they gonna pay it all back?" the owner said. "They'll have to hand over Alaska," he continued. "You know that Japan already owns half of Hawaii?" said the owner. "Really?" said the friend. "How do you know that? I never read that." "Just look it up. It's right there on the internet," said the owner. "I'm sure glad they don't own Florida yet," said K.C. Later, I walked over to Mother Earth before going back home.

Radha's friend Prema spent the night last night. She got her driver's license about a day or so after Radha did and drove Radha back from the temple. She didn't want to show it to me at first because she didn't like her picture. After the temple, I stopped at Kesi's and picked up two vinyl albums he bought me- John and Yoko's "Double Fantasy" and the Cars' "Candy-O." I stopped at the new Walgreens in Alachua to buy some allergy medicine for Radha. "I'm going in with a dhoti to buy drugs," I told Kesi. Inside, I met Ramanya and he talked about how he became friendly again with his ex-wife Chaintanya-lila before she died. He promised her to move back to the States to be closer to their children.

Only a Dream

2009-03-10T08:31:00.004-04:00

I dreamed last night that I over heard a former professor talk to someone else about his recommendation of me for Journalism College. "Say that he has a good outside shot," he said to his student-secretary, who was filling out some form. After some silence, I couldn't help but butt in. "Also, say I play good defense," I said, poking my head into the room. "Yeah, that's good, write it," he said. There was a sheet of paper with everyone's class ranking and I was somewhere in the middle. "That isn't right," I thought, but didn't say anything because I was not suppose to be looking at it. "I should be up much higher." Then I noticed that my religious beliefs knocked me down a few notches. "Is vegetarian, subtract points," the professor had written in another part of the paper. Then I remembered the guy was big-time pig-time on cooking and eating meat "gourmet."

I left the room but I wanted to go back in to protest. When I did, the guy was lying down with his student-secretary and it looked like they were about to go at it. He looked at me like "Shut the damn door," so I did. Then, my dream became lucid and I realized I was only dreaming as the dream was going on. "Only a dream," I said to myself. "Only a dream."

When I was in high school I used to have nightmares that I was failing class and not going to graduate. I would wake up and then gradually realize that it was only a dream. When I was in middle-school, I had the common dream that I was going through the school day in my underwear, and somehow or other getting through it despite the embarrsment. I had that dream once after I was walking through my sister's neighborhood in Willimantic, Connecticut, and I saw a kid on the sidewalk yelling to another kid standing in his doorway. "I saw you in your underwear," he kept repeating loudly. Finally, the kid in the doorway responded, "You don't have to tell the whole neighborhood."

When I was 19-years-old and newly living in the temple, I sometimes dreamed I had smoked marijuana again and felt awful. Before I was a devotee, I smoked weed everyday for about four-years. I always felt super-relieved after I woke up and realized that I was still pot-free.

After my mother died, I used to have dreams that she had come back to see me but was on borrowed time. She would talk to me a while or hug me then said she would have to go. Her heart would always start pounding out of her chest until it exploded. Those dreams always started out sweetly and ended bitterly. I would wake up to stark reality.

Perhaps my worst nightmares occurred when I was around five-years-old. They were particularly bad, I think, because I was so young and they really scared me. I used to regularly dream of a monster in my closet, like the one I had of a toy. I would open the closet, and see the monster there. Sometimes, I was convinced that I really got up and saw the monster standing in the closet. To this day, I'm still not sure it didn't really happen. He looked kind of like the Creature from the Black Lagoon and would put his arms up at me and roar.

Later, I had regular dreams of a friend of my sister's who was in her twenties named Lizzy. She had long black hair and in a dream, for a few months straight, would come to my house, pick me up and take me away. In the dream, my brother and I would be playing in the kitchen, and he would look at his wristwatch and say, "It's about that time." At that point I would see the locked door slowly open and start running away. Invariably, I would always fall and start crawling down the hallway. Before I got to the end, Lizzy would always pick me up and carry me out the door. She looked like a witch and I was terrified. I told my mother and sisters about it, they showed passing interest but could do nothing. Months later, the dream continued like a serial. She was holding me in her bedroom, telling me she wasn't feeling good. I had become less scared and more acclimated to her and was jumping on her bed.

When I was a brahmacari, I occasionally dreamed about women coming to seduce me. It wasn't one of those desirable "wet dreams" you enjoy when you're a adolescent, at the time for me it was a nightmare because I was seriously trying to be celibate. They weren't coming to consciously seduce me either but that was the affect of them flirting with me. I used to distribute books and an older devotee, who was now married, told me he had a similar problem when he was a brahmacari and therefore decided to follow a vow to stop distributing books to women for one year. If he accidentally approached a girl, he would simple curtly say, "It's a book, do you want it or not." I thought it was a little artificial and decided I just had to be humble because there were forces much greater than me in the world. Anyway, why should women not get a book on spiritual life just because I was in the wrong ashram?

In this material world, I understand we are already living in a dream. As this life is temporary, our memories are quite comparable to dreams. We have dreams in the night and we have "waking" dreams in the day. Just because the night dreams are another layer away from reality, doesn't mean that the day dreams are the real ultimate life. Who can say we are not already sleeping somewhere else? How many layers of dreams could we be experiencing? These are all questions I wanted answers to from the time I was very young. I remember watching "Horton Hears a Who," and wondering whether ants knew about the existence of humans and how there may be Gods that human beings similarly were unaware of. I also started thinking about dreams and the nature of reality but they were difficult for me to articulate about during those times.

Sometimes, when I dream, I actually fly out of my body and it's not really a dream per se, but more like a trip into another dimension. I float off, look around and then take off into interesting adventures. Such adventures I will not write about here today but will leave for another time "How do you know it's not just a dream?" people ask. To that, I usually give different types of circumstantial evidence, like I saw my body laying on the bed, etc. but does it really matter that much? I mean, I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone and ultimately we all are living in a kind of illusion as the the famous poem by Lewis Carrol goes, "Row row row your boat gently down the stream/ Merrily merrily merrily merrily, life is but a dream."

Robot-Mode

2009-03-09T06:46:00.006-04:00

I had to get up early Sunday morning and this daylight savings time thing made me have to get up even an hour earlier on top of that. The result was that Sunday I wasn't my usual self. There were a number of things that compounded the situation. On Saturday evening, Purandara and I drove to Byron, Ga., which is about a three-and-a-half-hour drive. I have to do all the driving because Purandara has occasional seizures and thus driving a plus-ton vehicle at neck-break speed down an asphalt-highway with many even heavier vehicles could be a dangerous situation. I usually like to drive all the time anyway and only generally relent when I'm really tired.

In the hotel, Purandara started shutting the lights off early. I'm not big on early lights off but I understood as we had to get up at 5:30 a.m., which was really 4:30 because we had to set the clocks ahead. Anyway, I was happy because it meant I was going to be alone in terms of waken people and when I'm alone I am much better-able to write anyway. So, after about five minutes, as I lay on my stomach with my Mac-book, Purandara says, "How long are you going to have that thing on?" "I don't know Purnadara, but I'm not going to lay here in the darkness for the next three hours twiddling my thumbs." I was a little annoyed because he had asked to come with me and I was perfectly content on going alone. I felt bad for him because otherwise he had no way to go.

After about another five minutes, I started thinking about how hard it is for me to sleep with any lights on in the room myself, even the glow of a laptop, so, feeling sorry for Purandara's plight, I grabbed all my stuff and moved into the bathroom for the next few hours. It took a few minutes to adjust, but in almost no time the large countertop around the sink became my desk and the toilet bowl became my chair. Just before I went in, I told Purandara I was going to take a shower and write in there a while. "Oh, I was thinking about using the bathroom to take a shower also," he said, from under the covers. I said nothing and disappeared behind the door. After a few minutes, I heard him snoring through the walls.

Unless I write at least a poem and a blog a day, I do not feel complete, like I am neglecting my duties or something. Several people came up to me during the Sunday feast last night and encouraged me about my writing. One devotee said she thinks it's my dharma. It was nice to hear. So, anyway, being in that bathroom felt like an oasis because I was able to write in peace

Waking up early in the morning after getting little sleep and traveling the night before, is tough on the body and the mind. When that alarm first goes off, you have to go into robot-mode just to get through. "Who wants to take a shower first?" Purandara asked. "I will," I said and immediately put my feet on the floor. Those first minutes of getting your stuff together when hours of austerity await you is not fun. You have to remember about the temporality of it all and focus on your purpose. If the purpose is important enough, then it becomes easier for your mind to accept and it finally stops whining. If the mind stops whining, the body starts adjusting almost immediately. Not that the body is overjoyed or anything but it's pretty much just a machine. Like I said before, in those situations, robot-mode always works best for me. We still had another hour-and-a-half to drive on the pre-dawn highway before we could get to our destination.

In the hotel lobby, the girl at the desk looked like she didn't want to be there either. "Everyone is going through austerities," I thought. "What makes me so special?" How about all those people who choose to get up early and go see a race? "They're friggin' nuts," I thought. But for them, this is one of the best times of the year, or so they hope. As I drove in the parking lot and made my way out of the car, a tall, fat guy with a Dale Earnhardt Jr. hat, who was hanging out at his car, looked at me and asked "Where's breakfast?" "Sorry, I already had oatmeal," "Oatmeal!?!" he said with a contorted look on his face. "I'm asking where's the bacon?" "Apparently, a lot of it has already lodged inside of you," I thought.

I had forgotten my belt at home and bought one at Walmart the night before. I really need a belt out there, otherwise all the weight of the stickers pull my pants down. There's no more loser-like feeling than having to regularly pull your pants up out in public. I had bought a cheap man-made-material belt for $9.99 and as I tried to buckle it, it promptly broke in half. "Great," I said aloud. The bacon-eating-man looked at me and started laughing. "That's why I wear these," he said, pulling on his suspenders. I then proceeded to take an old plastic rain poncho and tear it into a make-shift belt. It worked fine, holding my pants up, and no one could see it anyway because my jacket was hanging over it.

I worked for about three hours, and had another three hours to go when a offical-looking man in a golf-cart called me over to him. He checked me out to make sure I had no Nascar paraphernalia, which I never do. I acted at ease with him and he joked with me. I thought all was well but when another official talked to Purandara, the P-dawg was less than cooperative. "Let me see in your pockets," the less-than-overjoyed man repeatedly said. Purandara kept ignoring his request. "I told you this is all I have," Purandara said, defiantly referring to the stickers he already had in his hands. "I want you guys off the property," the agitated official said. "If we see you again, we'll take all your stuff." "Great," I thought, a little annoyed, knowing Purandara may have well pushed the man over the edge and got us kicked out of there. I had been in a rhythm, too.

As we walked back to the car, Purnadara was disturbed that I wasn't going to work anymore. "You're the one who kept asking if you could bring Nascar hats" I said. "If you had, they would have cleaned my car out. I told you if you go with me you have to follow my rules." I said annoyed. The P-dawg grumbled but could do nothing. He just couldn't accept that it was time to go. "Why don't we just look around?" he said. "For what?" I asked. There were cars parked up and down the road, which was "off the property," but there were almost no tail-gaiters. He was frustrated because he wanted to continue working but I didn't want to run into those guys again. I was annoyed because I thought if I had come by myself, I would have kept things cool with the officials and been allowed to work another three hours. Around noon, we stopped at Moe's for burritos and Purnadara's hunger took over his confounded mood. He ordered so much filling, that by the time his burrito was wrapped, it looked like a big used diaper.

I fought off sleep on the ride home by listening to George Carlin and Chris Rock. Puranadara kept hinting that he wanted to put his Ipod on but I largely ignored him. "I have an Ipod," he said. "I know, you showed me yesterday." I said. "He took it out again and started playing with it. He kept looking at me, like he wanted to say something but kept hesitating. "Want to hear some of my songs?" he finally said. "I'm not big on hip-hop and R& B." I answered. "Anyway, I have to drive and I'm really trying to just stay awake here." After we stopped for gas, he hooked up his Ipod, or thought he did. Really he just hooked up my charger to his Ipod. When he turned the stereo on he was baffled because one of my songs were coming out of the speakers. He looked down at his Ipod and squinted. "You didn't plug it in properly." I said. "All right, you can listen to one of your songs." "Just one?" he asked. "That's it," I said firmly. He put on a Bob Marley song with UB40. When it was over "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones came on and I told him he could play it because I liked the song. He smiled.

I did a couple of makeshift tarot readings for him as we drove home.

After I dropped him off at his house and said our good byes, I called Radha. She told me she was going to the temple with Govinda. I asked if they would wait for me to get home. I was so tired by the time I got there that I had her drive us. I laid on my back in the passenger seat with my car-bumper stained shorts still on and my japa beads in hand. Radha drove mostly quiet and serious, while Govinda humored my almost incoherent stories and ramblings from his seat in the back. I was glad to be home, back in my stomping grounds and on the way to the Sunday Feast.

Keep On Truckin'

2009-03-07T23:09:00.004-05:00

I've concluded that my mind spends so much time dreading some of the things that I have to do, to the point that the very quality of my life is sapped even when I'm not doing them. Generally, I have found that the so-called austerities end up not being so bad after all. One of my problems is that I'm a perpetual thinker. I have to learn to just do it. People with strong Virgo influences do tend to think too much. Stop that Gargs.

At the gym today, the trainer-girl told me that even though I'm working out regularly, I should still try to cut down on my eating a little if I want to lose significant weight. As I have noticed things leveling off the last few days, I will try to be more mindful and cut down at least a little bit more. Good luck Gargs.

The good news is I am getting stronger from lifting the weights. I beat Shyam in arm wrestling today for the first time in about a year. He had passed me out but now I'm back on top. I had mixed feelings about it as he is my son. I want him to do well. Perhaps, he shold start hitting the gym with me more. Still, good job Gargs.

I drove up into Georgia today with Purandara. We stopped at Subway and I ordered only half a sub. It's Ekadasi today but I did not follow having forgot about it in the morning. Also, eating potatoes on the road all day is a bit damaging to my health. Anyway, enough of the excuses and on with my anecdote. So, when the skinny Indian boy tried to put tomatoes slices with all this seedy green larva on my sandwich, I told him no. "But they are very good," he said. "If they are so good, then you eat them," I said. "Now please give me some healthy-looking tomato slices."

When he tried to give me just a few strands of lettuce, I asked for more. When he then added only a few more strands, I specifically told him, "Look, put your entire hand into the lettuce and now squeeze, that's it. Now, lift your hand up like a crane and drop all that lettuce onto my sandwich. Thank you very much." He tried to use a mayonnaise-stained knife to push all my fixings better into my sandwich and I clearly told him no. "I'm a vegetarian," I explained. "And the knife is tainted." "I'm a vegetarian too," he said with a smile. I had a new smiling Indian friend. Good going Gargs.

The road often feels hard and lonely, even when another person is traveling with me. The austerities I'm performing, however, are necessary. There are so many things I'd rather be doing but as John Lennon once said, "There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be. It's easy." I need to have the mentality to make the best of each day no matter how distasteful it may seem on the surface. I have to keep my goals in mind and keep on truckin'. Good thinking Gargs.

Turning Back the Hyper Clock

2009-03-07T07:45:00.003-05:00

Spring Break officially started for me at 2 p.m. yesterday. It was a bit surreal as I got into my car and turned the radio on to hear Deep Purple's "Highway Star." As I heard the words flow out of the speakers, "Nobody's gonna take my car, I'm gonna race it to the ground/ Nobody gonna beat my car, it's gonna break the speed of sound," I started getting pumped. While breaking the speed of sound is a little ridiculous to think about my Toyota Yaris, hearing that song after I got out on break, made me feel like I was 17 again with the whole vacation in front of me. Back then, I had no responsibilities but school; now, I could only pretend that was true. Whatever the case, in that playful spirit, I turned the speakers up full blast and began speeding down the highway. By the time I was in the high 80's or maybe it was low 90's, I saw that a cop had pulled a similar celebrator over on I-75. He looked like he was about 19. I'm sure he wasn't listening to Deep Purple, probably more like Lil' Wayne or something, but you get the picture. I quickly came back to my senses. Point of fact, young males get more speeding tickets than anyone does. There's a good reason for that- They've got so much testosterone pumping through their bodies that they become stupid. I thought it was interesting, though, that as soon as I tried to turn back the clock to those old days, even if it was just make believe, I almost got zapped just like those old days.

It's not that I'm saying I shouldn't act young; it's just that I'm saying I shouldn't act stupid. There is a balance between becoming complacent as you grow older by letting everything go to pot and going to the other extreme of not taking advantage of the maturity the years have given you. My age is perfect in many ways because I can still have lots of energy and vigor while getting the benefit of my experience and maturity. One may say that I'm wearing rose-colored glasses and that I'm choosing to look at it in that way because I have no other choice. While there is a grain of truth in that, I say it's mostly bullshit. Albeit, I may have to work a little harder at having the energy, but it's still there for the taking. My lack of energy in the past was because I was fucking fat and I identified with that body as the self. I don't want to get neurotic and apply the philosophy that you're not you're body to the extent of not taking care of the machine because I'm thinking that it ultimately doesn't matter anyway. It's that misapplication of "the philosophy" that can make neophyte devotees think old. What it really should be is that first of all, I'm not my body, and second of all, the body should be taken care of. This is especially important because in the conditional stage of life we identify with our body to an extent anyway, and if we let it get unfit and unhealthy then we can only get depressed and "grow old" before our time.

Lately, I have developed a taste for working out. I actually burn to do it and this is, I think, for several reasons. In fact, after I write this blog and before I sail off to Atlanta for a couple of days, I'm going to put in a couple of hours at the Gainesville health and Fitness Center. First of all, I have got into the routine and it feels great while I'm doing it. I have got past the initial difficulty of getting started and feel I'm making a little progress almost everyday. It has become easier for me and I am encouraged. Second of all, I always feel great after I do it. I have more hop in my step and more strength in my body. Before I started my regular regimen, my knee was really hurting. I believed that I had partially torn a ligament and was having a hard time for several months. I started walking around the neighborhood everyday but sometimes the knee really felt bad. Now, that I've taken to weight training, that has gradually changed for the better. If I had started out with too much weight, it may have made matters worse. Fortunately, I had the where-with-all to start slow and gradually build up the weight (that's where my maturity has come in). Now, my knee feels strengthened and the botheration I felt before there is almost completely gone.

In other news, I submitted my application for the UF College of Print Journalism at the end of February and expect to hear back from them anywhere from mid to late April. If I am accepted, I will be pumped. If not, then I will have a choice between trying to get in for the Spring of 2010 semester or applying for the College of Broadcast Journalism for the fall term. I am into both, so if I am not accepted for my first choice I don't want to wait around and be chomping at the bit. I want to keep on rolling. Of course, if I had a semester off, I could concentrate on making money, which I could sure use right now, but I'm trying to make choices for the long-term so that I will no longer be in the short-term financial situations that I am now in. Whatever I do, I have to continue to keep thinking positive while being practical and realistic at the same time. If I follow the ancient Vedic spiritual text by Rupa Goswami called Upadesamrita, or the Nectar of Instruction, I will be simultaneously patient and enthusiastic, which is a winning combination for anyone in any endeavor in life.

Radha Gets Her License, Veggie Sausage and the Bat Cave

2009-03-05T00:27:00.009-05:00

I didn't go to the gym today because I was so tired after eight hours of school, part of which I crawled on my belly in Newbury's "Bat Cave." I was wiped out when I got home and dirty as a skunk who had just wrestled a pig. Tomorrow, I'm going to hit the gym hard while Radha is taken her F-Cat's at Santa Fe College. I am now craving workouts. Pretty, pretty, pretty good, as Larry David would say.

Yesterday, I accompanied Radha to get her driver's license. Getting your license is a big thing for a kid. I guess it's big for anyone. I got mine over 30 years ago and still remember it to this day. I started the driving part of the test out by going too far past the stop line while pulling out of the Motor Vehicle Department in Willimantic, Connecticut. "Not a good start so far," the driving instructor said. I quickly recovered and got my license. Back in Gainesville in 2009, I told the clerk my daughter didn't like getting her picture taken and the clerk responded by trying to hold her hands so I could snap a picture. It didn't work. I then told Radha she shouldn't try to stop me from catching the "precious moments." Finally, she agreed to let me snap some pictures on the condition I would not post them for now on without her approval. She's sleeping right now, so, as I cannot ask for her approval before deadline, I have included two or three here for your viewing pleasure.

I've been listening to a lot of Steely Dan lately. They were so good in the early seventies and are so underrated. The combination of their musicianship, jazzy-rock sound, smooth yet cool vocals and Dylanesque lyrics relaxes me and simultaneously stimulates my mind.

I got a 125 on my American Government exam. I never got 25 points of extra-credit on a test before. Professor Maggio is cool, no doubt.

On Monday, I bought seven of Sabjimata's veggie sausages. Today (Wednesday), they are officially gone. I cooked one up for Vrn with tomato sauce, cheddar cheese and green olives. It looked delicious but I did not partake due to it being too late in the day for my dietary considerations. I can confidently say, they are the best veggie sausages I have ever ate. Write that down, as it's coming from a man with a lot of food experience. Vrn seemed to like the collaboration and said the green olives gave it the kick it needed.

I think I said this before but Wednesday school is so difficult- I go through four classes and then trudge on to four more hours of Geology afterwards. Aagghh! At least the three hour lab part is generally cool. We descended into the Bat Cave in Newbury today. It is cold and dark down there, yet there is still a whole eco-system. I'm sure glad I'm a human being and not a bat. I really like the sun light. While we were inside, I imagined being trapped down there forever. If that would have happened, the "cool" bat cave would have quickly become a hellish prison.

Tarot Interpretations: Eight of Wands

2009-03-03T15:20:00.002-05:00

VIII of Wands:

Represents, as in the picture, a flight of wands, or rods, or even arrows in the open air toward a particular destination. They are like guided missiles that signify that something is immediately at hand or just on the verge of occurring.

It can be likened to a messenger that brings news to light. The green sprouts that are shown on the wands suggests that the nature of the event is new. This is not the kind of news that one has to be patient to wait for. Either, it will come to the inquisitor's knowledge in almost no time, or it is currently acting upon an element for which the questioner is asking. Whatever the case, this card signifies that it is too late to try to avoid, for the action is already in motion; the arrows have been released. Generally, there is no need to try to avert it, as the event at hand is more often than not considered positive, unless surrounded by negative cards in a reading.

This card is pretty much the only card in the tarot deck that intimates without doubt that an event is promptly to come.

From the romantic point of view, this card indicates that new bonds are immediately at hand or existing relationships have become transformed for the better by some particular event. It is also the arrows of cupid. When seen in reverse, it can indicate events that invoke jealousies in either the questioner or the subject of the reading.

Spiritually speaking, this card signifies epiphanies and realizations that herald new eras of activity and higher consciousness in spiritual life.

Damn Tangents

2009-03-03T08:07:00.005-05:00

Going on tangents can be a big-time enemy of being productive. This morning, I was sitting at my desk studying for tomorrow's International Relations test, when it entered my mind again that I don't know where my camera is and that it could be in a recycling bag that I brought with me to school yesterday. So, I left my desk, picked up the bag and brought it over to my bed. As I was emptying out to find no camera, the slight disappointment of it not being in there was curbed by my sudden compulsion to make the bed. "Didn't I tell myself that I would make my bed and shower as soon as I got up in the morning for now on?" I thought. So, I re-stuffed the bag (with stuff that needs to be taken out of the bag again and put into their proper places), quickly made the bed, and proceeded into the bathroom to take a shower.

As I climbed in the shower after the water reached my desired temperature of as cold as I could stand (lukewarm), I started thinking about what I had to do that day. "Let's see, I have to bring Radha to get her license today (Oh my God, what does this mean? Is she going to be fighting to use my car? Is she going to fight to use Shyam's vehicle? How much is the insurance going to go up? She's a good driver but how much anxiety will I be feeling for her safety when she first starts driving on her own?)" By the time I had rinsed off the slight lather I worked myself into I thought about the notion of my kids having kids and going through similar anxieties. I then thought about the cycle of life. How we are attached to our parents and want to do everything with them when we are really young, then later, we get annoyed by them a lot, eventually we want to get away from them and when we find the first love in our life it is more intense than what we felt for our parents. Then, we are driven to make our way in the world and find a suitable mate, etc. When we have children, the love we have for them is even more powerful, and then we watch them gradually go through all the stages we went through as we get older and less and less relevant in the eyes of younger generations.

Relevancy in the eyes of younger generations? "That's an interesting concept," I thought. It is so rare to find someone that stays relevant and can still impart his or her experience and wisdom to others. "That's how I would like to be." Then, I started to try to find examples of people who did that all their lives. As I got out of the bathroom I ran over to my desk to write all these ideas down (the ones I would be able to remember). "Maybe this stuff will yield a blog or something."

As I started writing it all down, I couldn't help but notice how cold it was in the room. So, I went to turn the heat on and subsequently got dressed. When I finally got on the first phase of my attire for the day (around the house shorts and tee-shirt), I remembered that I had bought some organic, not-from concentrate orange juice and could sure use some right now. I only drink orange juice in the morning, and I often remember I bought it when it is too late in the day. I love when I remember something at the right time, though. It always seems like I remember something time-sensitive at the wrong time and days go by before I can utilize it.

Anyway, I jogged into the other apartment to get the juice and Glani was just getting up. "What are your plans for today?" she asked. "Well, I have to bring Radha to get her license at noon, I have to make plans for the weekend (hotel reservations etc. for my trip to Atlanta), I want to go to the gym and I'm aching to write a blog. Why?" I asked. "I need some help with my International Relations class." "Oh my God," I thought. "I have a big-time test tomorrow and even though I started studying about a half-hour or so ago, I completely forgot about it. I was just contently studying that crap a little while ago. Damn tangents."

So, the question that naturally arises in my mind, is how can I become more focused and diligent in getting things done in a more linear fashion? Well, the first thing, I would think, would be to prioritize the night before by writing down the list of things that must be done the next day. Perhaps, I could even give myself a head start by organizing the things that need to be worked on the night before so I can hit the ground running in the morning. It wouldn't hurt to lay my clothes out or make my japa beads prominent so I could even take a little jaunt before I get started in the so-called "important matters of the day."

Another thing would be to delegate a certain amount of time for my various tasks. You know, make a little schedule. Not that it has to be so rigid and inflexible that I feel like I'm in the military but I have to manage my time or it will manage me even more than it already is (like growing old and eventually dying).

As I enter into each task, I should also know my objective and proposed outcome so I am better able to focus on what I am doing. To get bounced around the house like a pinball may give some frenetic excitement, but that generally comes of its own accord anyway by unforeseen circumstances and I should try to quell it as much as possible. People who don't quell it are the kind of people who end up burning their lunch regularly and end up spending half their time looking for things that they never should have lost track of in the first place. Like their friggin' keys. Speaking of which, this lost camera situation is still really annoying me in the back of my mind.

Gradually Losing My Fatness

2009-03-01T13:51:00.006-05:00

After coming back from the gym today, I weighed in at 231 pounds. I have now lost 18 pounds in about five or six weeks. I want to at least get under 200 pounds and realize I still have a long way to go. I have made some progress and am really starting to feel a tangible difference in terms of strength and energy. I can't believe I weighed 249 pounds. Oh my God. Later, I hope to be able to say that about 231 pounds.

I'm trying not to concentrate too much on long term goals. I talked to a woman today who told me she needed to lose 40 pounds. If I was to overly concentrate on my long term goals I would probably get discouraged. It's a gradual process and patience is really needed to get the job done. Just like an alcoholic, I have to take one day at a time and make sure I exercise regularly, both aerobically and anaerobically. Sounds like a pep-talk for fat-aholics anonymous.

If I wasn't lifting weights, the pounds may have fell faster up until now, I don't know. The reason for this would be because muscle weighs more than fat does. I'm definitely getting stronger from hitting the weights three times a week, though. This has also helped to strengthen my knee, which is now able to take more of a pounding on the treadmill. Fat also is burned more during the day as a result of lifting weights. It increases the metabolism and I don't fear so much that whatever I eat will turn to fat now. I have increased the lifting gradually. I started light to make sure I didn't pull something and put myself out of commission. Then I would have got depressed and stuffed my face and you know the rest. Every time I hit the line, I go up about four pounds for each machine. Now, I don't feel very sore the next day like I did at the beginning and I think my body is healing faster between sessions.

Another great fringe benefit from the exercising is I feel more up mentally. When you exercise, endorphins are released in the brain, and a natural high occurs. Some people don't want to shell out the extra dockets to join a gym but if you actually use it it's more than worth it in my opinion. What is more valuable in this world than your health? Not much. Probably only the love you give to others. I have realized the worst thing I can do for my loved ones is to die prematurely because I was too damn lazy to exercise.

My regimen now is I go to the gym three or four times a week and in between I take walks around the neighborhood or on a nature trails in the area. This keeps up the variety and makes things more interesting for me. I try to take it easy at least one day a week to give my body time to rest. Anyway, so far so good. I can't get complacent. The momentum is building and I am seeing results. I just have to keep it up and not get overwhelmed by impatience. It took a long time to eat and not exercise my way to this fatness; I can't expect to get back to where I want to overnight. I have to keep reminding myself to continue because I know it's so easy to fall back into bad habits.

Attending the Arlo Guthrie Concert

2009-02-28T09:54:00.005-05:00

Friday night I went to the Arlo Guthrie concert at the Phillips Center in Gainesville. Originally, I asked my daughter and wife if they wanted to go with me. Both said yes, but I was skeptical. I called the box office and when I heard there were many tickets left, I decided I would take my chances the night of the show. Often, I have got into concerts for next to nothing by waiting until the last minute and hanging out. Anyway, I didn't want to be stuck with tickets because someone had backed out on me.

When Glani found out her guru, Hridayananda Maharaja, was giving a darshan, I knew she wouldn't go to the concert with me. I asked her a couple of days before and she confirmed it. "Okay," I thought. "At least Radha will go." I asked her again and she reiterated that she did indeed want to go. "How many times do I have to tell you Dad," she said. On the morning of the show, though, she started to waver. Later that day, she seemed intent on going and I was happy. I don't like to go to movies or concerts or out to eat alone. I don't think many people do. It's always much better when to have someone to share the experience with.

In the final hour, however, Radha backed out. For a few minutes I felt stood up. I thought about not going. AV and Sri Bhakti were still going to go, though. But Friday night is their date night and I didn't want to feel like the proverbial third wheel. Then I decided I would go anyway. Radha understandably wanted to go out with her friends instead of being stuck with her father. Besides, she had some passing interest to see Arlo Guthrie but not enough to invest a whole teenage evening to in him. I did really want to see Arlo, and besides, it would give me another experience to write about. He's 62 and who knows how long he's going to go on touring, anyway. I had never seen him before and he's the frggin' son of Woody Guthrie, for crying out loud. He knew Leadbelly and Big Bill Broonzy, and he's a great storyteller. I couldn't pass it up.

So I went and got there before AV and Sri. I also arrived before Lalita -sakhi and her friends Madhurya and Vegavati. I told them I would try to help get them cheaper tickets with my Santa Fe ID. Later, I felt bad because I actually forgot to help them when they got there. By then, however, the balcony seats had gone down to $15 for everyone, including non-students, so it would have only made a little difference. The balcony seats were originally $30 but were only $10 if you had a Santa Fe ID. A UF ID, could score you a seat anywhere on the floor for only $10. I had mentioned to Radha and Vrn my idea of using Govinda's ID while we were in school earlier, but they kind of laughed at me as if I looked way to old to pull it off.

When I got there, I walked around the parking lot a bit to see if there were any scalpers with "Buying" and "Selling" signs. No one was in sight. I had pretty much surmised that the show was too small for "ticket service people," as they liked to be called, to bother with it. I sat down near the door when I heard a man approach a lady and ask her if she wanted a free ticket. "No, I already have one," she said. I immediately got up and made myself noticeable to the man. He looked at me and asked if I wanted it. "Yes," I said. "Thank you." And he was gone. It was an orchestra seat only eight rows from the stage. I looked up at the crescent moon with the planet venus in visible conjunction. It was beautiful and I had a free ticket in my hand. I was glad I had came.

If Radha was with me, then I would have had to give up the ticket and probably get seats in the rafters. AV and Sri went up there and they left at intermission, partly because of bad acoustics. I sat next to the guy who gave me the ticket. At intermission, he told me someone from his work had given them to him at the last minute and he couldn't find anyone to go with him. In case he might be gay and had some strange ideas, I told him that my wife and daughter were going to go but decided at the last minute not to. His told me his name was Eli Santana and that he was from the Domican Republic. I said I had meant a lot of Dominicans while I was living in the Puerto Rico. It turned out that we both had lived there at the same time in 1989 and 1990.

I also saw my International Relations teacher and Geology teacher there. I chatted with Greg Mead, my Geology teacher, who is also a folk musician and he introduced me to his wife. They were very nice and we chatted for about five minutes or so in the lobby, sharing our knowledge of music.

As for the concert, it was very enjoyable. The music was good but I found Arlo's ability to spin a yarn even better. I arrived a song or two late. When I finally got in, the first song I heard was an old New Orleans blues song called "Gambler's Blues." The chorus of the song rang out "Don't want no corn, peas or black molasses."

The band was five-piece, including Arlo on rhythm guitar. He also had three lovely sounding sisters from Ithica, New York on harmonies called the Burns sisters.

Arlo said many funny things. Before the "Motorcicle Song" he explained that sometimes when he sees creative inspiration coming from the corner of his eye, he gets a paper and pen and readies himself. On one occasion, he wrote down the line "I don't want a pickle, I just want to ride on my motorcicle," and thought, what a stupid line. He ended up finishing the song, it became a hit and now he's been forced to sing it for the last 40 years. "Why didn't the inspiration to write this song go to someone else?" he said. "Where is Dylan when you need him?"

He talked about Woodstock and said he and his band had to be brought in on a helicopter because the traffic was impassible. When he looked down he saw an incredible sea of people, a sight that has never been equalled again in his lifetime. He said he remembered sitting between two cops, one fat and one skinny, and hearing them converse. "Look at all those people down there," said the fat cop. "I bet you a lot of them are hippies." "Yup," said the skinny cop. "I bet you a lot of them are doing illegal things," said the fat cop. "Yup," said the skinny cop. "Well, I'm not going to do anything about it," said the fat cop. "Neither am I," said the skinny cop. It was at that point that, said Arlo, he realized they were going to have a really good time.

Arlo's voice was a bit gravely but still strong. The band was unspectacular but decent and the backing vocals by the Burns sisters were great. I didn't know many of Arlo's songs, save and except the standards like "Coming into Los Angeles," "City of New Orleans," and "Alice's Restaurant Massacre," a 18-plus minute song that he didn't sing. "Some [songs] we're not going to get to tonight," Arlos said. "ALICE"S RESTAURANT!" a man blurted out. "That's one of them," Arlo said. That disappointed me a little but by that time I was tired and not sure if I was up for the whole duration of that song. I can understand the monotony he must feel singing a 18-minute song ten months of the year, daily, for four decades.

Arlo also sung several of his father Woody's songs, which were really the highlight of the evening for me. Woody was the biggest single influence on Bob Dylan's career and obviously Arlo's as well. He said that his father was a writing maniac who would go over someone's house and write on everything he could find. People are still sending some of his original lyrics back to the family. Arlo claimed that his father wrote over 3500 songs that are still being recorded today.

About a minute into Woody's famous "This Land is Your Land" song, Arlo stopped and commented on the audience's clapping along. "Your clapping along is nice but it's really messing me up," he said.

I'm glad I went, after all; even by myself.

Tarot Interpretations: Eight of Cups

2009-02-28T08:17:00.006-05:00

The VIII of Cups :

The VIII of Cups generally means a very sad departure or leaving people or places that have been important to us up until now and feeling brokenhearted about it. With a heavy heavy heart, we choose to leave something meaningful behind in exchange for an unforeseen future. We are not forced to leave but almost feel compelled to. Of course, every future is uncertain and if one never took a risk, then the possibility of personal growth could be stunted. At the same time, with this card it is hard to tell if gradual or abrupt change would be for the better.

Either way, the sadness, as reflected by this card appears inevitable, so we may feel that only time can heal such wounded feelings. It is by this card, that the nature of separation in the material world is reflected. Because we are bound and attached to our physical bodies, we become mentally infected by their circumstances of space and time. When we lose proximity to that or who which we have loved, cherished or taken comfort in, the pain in our heart becomes undeniable. It is not the piercing and almost irreconcilable pain of the III of Swords, but it is probably duller and heavier. What is bewildering about this card, is the mental doubt concerning whether we have made the right move. The pain of the departure leaves a profound aching in a portion of our mind and heart. Sometimes, bravely going ahead with our plans and working our way through the pain, leads to a greater freedom and a better clarity and appreciation of our life and what the past has meant to us.

In the spiritual sense, this card can remind us of what the soul has left behind in the eternal realm and the heartbreak associated with living a life of repeated birth and death in the material world. Through such pain, we can better appreciate our birthright and create a yearning in separation to one day go back to our constitutional position in relationship to God.

In terms of personal relationships, this card stands for the crossroads that separates ourselves from a loved one or companion. While this is indeed painful, it may also open us up to expanding our horizons in the future. Perhaps we will build new important bonds with others and/or discover a newfound clarity about who we have left behind.

Meeting with Dr. Horne, Writing, and Dealing With Loneliness

2009-02-27T05:46:00.002-05:00

Thursday night I met with my former Advanced Composition professor, Dr. Naana Banyiwa Horne. I received an "A" in her class, like I have in all my English and writing -related classes, but that "A" was not an easy one. Throughout most of the semester, I hovered in the B+ range and finally went over the top, I think, with my oral presentation on a paper I wrote called "Calvinism's Contribution to Religious Intolerance in America." Something had come over me when I stepped to the podium and I spoke about white male patriarchy's sense of entitlement as fueled by Calvinistic philosophy in the New World from the arrival of the Pilgrims up until today with the fervor of a convert.

It is a common belief that America was founded on religious freedom, and in a sense that may be true, but even more so, I believe the evidence is there that the Puritans originally came to New England led by John Winthrop, due to their own religious intolerance towards others. This overall attitude, which thank God was not the attitude of the core of the founding fathers (otherwise we'd really be in deep shit), led to many atrocities toward people of color, including Native Americans, Africans, Mexicans, and immigrants from the Orient. It is that same attitude, which spawned ideas like Manifest Destiny I argued, that is the crux of intolerance today against gays and lesbians, as well as people who worship or God outside the Judea-Christian tradition and non-believers as well.

Whatever you may think of that thesis, I talked to Dr. Horne last night with the idea of getting a recommendation for the UF Journalism College. It is quite competitive, from what I've been led to believe, so just a 3.85 g.p.a. alone may not cut it. Yesterday, I finally got word from my Journalism professor Rodney Woehler that he sent a recommendation to the college. The communication I received via email was cryptic to say the least. "Done" was all it said. We went back and forth a couple times until I procured the information out of him that he actually sent the recommendation to the college. I took his class last semester and found it to be a lot of fun but not an easy "A."

Dr. Horne is a talker, and when I got there for our 5 p.m. appointment, she was slammed with students who wanted to talk to her. I arrived first but had to wait for three individual students to talk to her because she didn't see me when she came in and I didn't speak up, assuming she did. After waiting for over an hour, I finally got into her office but didn't get out until almost 10 p.m. Dr. Horne, is a very personal teacher, who admitted to me from the outset that it is very hard for her to separate her personal life from her professional life in regards to her relationship with her students.

She vented a bit about two challenging exchanges she had had that day with two specific students and then the conversation turned to writing. She is a published poet, including two books of poems inspired by her native Ghana called "Sunkwa: Clingings to Life" (1999) and "Sunkwa Revisited: Poems" (2007). She is also an expert on gender studies and has been published many times in scholarly and academic circles.

During our discussion, Dr. Horne commented that written communication is inferior to oral, spurned on by a student who had stormed out of her class earlier and then demanded a written prompt for an assignment she didn't understand. Fresh from that discussion, I awoke at 4 a.m. this morning to read Tulasi-Priya's blog on Facebook that one cannot really get to know someone adequately through their writing. To that I responded in the following way:

I guess the more transparent the author is the better you can get a "glimpse" of him or her but I agree with you (2nd paragraph of "Singing my little songs") in the sense that writing ultimately has its limitations. It's hard to convey a person's tone, inflection and mannerisms; what to speak of how honest about themselves someone may or may not be.

Although, I do believe that writing has its limitations, I also believe that for some people like myself, who rarely speaks his mind, writing is a way for people to get know the author more. Dr. Horne asked me why I like to write and one of the answers I gave her is because I have both an input and output jack and since they are there, I am compelled to use them. I was also very introspective and not forthcoming with my feelings from the time my mother first was diagnosed with cancer when I was eight-years-old until around the age of 17, when I first started breaking out of it. Although, I'm no longer that kind of "shy" person, I find that writing helps me to open up and say things that I would otherwise normally never say. I also told her that I have the "Fever" and couldn't stop if I wanted to. Something turned on inside of me about three years ago and I haven't been able to stop. It's like a possession. Dr. Horne looked at my blogspots and seemed impressed enough to have something to go on outside of her experience with me in class, in order for her to write a compelling recommendation.

The whole meeting took a while, and I didn't even come out of there with a recommendation in hand due to her word processing program being on the fritz. Hopefully, I will be able to collect the remaining pieces needed for my application today (Friday) and turn it in to the College on time.

I woke up early this morning in order to study for my Topics of Math quiz, get my documents together for my application to Journalism College, and do all the regular morning routines of scurrying around the house that I have become accustomed to. Last night, Radha stayed with her mother, Glani stayed with her mother and Govinda and Shyam all stayed with their mothers. As a result, I stayed alone. Although, we are all generally in separate rooms, not seeing anyone around made me feel particularly alone last night. While I need time alone to write, I realize that sometimes I do not feel very good when I'm by myself, especially at night. At least it is hard to get used to. I really need a good balance of time by myself and time with people, otherwise I feel bereft. It's hard to admit but I guess it means I'm a social creature like everyone else. I guess without two important components- namely people and the sun, this world would be very cold, dark and lonely. Perhaps that's why so many people have an infinity to go to the beach with their friends. It makes them feel secure.

Paranoid Polaroids and Payne's Prairie Dragging

2009-02-25T23:32:00.010-05:00

Time is running out for me to get in all the necessary papers for my UF College of Journalism application. I am going to Santa Fe college tomorrow to get a recommendation from my Advanced Composition teacher from last semester. I have not been able to get in touch with my Journalism professor and I am suppose to have at least two referrals. Tomorrow, I will write some of my other former professors and see if anyone will be willing to help me with such short notice.

I've got the Wednesday blahs again. I didn't exercise today, save and except for the trip my Geology lab class took to Payne's Prairie. At some point a girl and boy were playfully flirting ad naseum and my professor turned to me and said "It's just like were in middle school or high school again. I answered "Apparently," and I think I might have hurt their feelings a little. Not the guy so much because he was happy-go-lucky oblivious, but perhaps the girl. So, to make amends I added something stupid, "Sometimes I wish I was 21 again." "Twenty-one?" the professor said. "If I know what I know now, then maybe."

I thought about it for awhile and came to the conclusion that despite my complaints, I rather like my age. I think I've always liked the age I have been at any particular time because I have grown more as a person incrementally throughout my life.. Sometimes older people fantasize about being younger with the confidence and knowledge they have now and having a field day with the opposite sex but this is no more than movie material to me. I actually think George Burns was in a movie like that where he went into a nerdy boy's body and suddenly was able to get all the girls based on his know-how, charm and experience.

The Payne's Prairie trip was nice today but I was dragging. Apparently, there are more snakes cited in the rest area off I-75 near Payne's Prairie than any other similar stretch in the world. I didn't see any and was perfectly fine with that. The park is 50 miles in circumference and has over 350 different wildlife species including wild stallions, bison, coyotes, and of course, alligators galore.

I didn't exercise beyond the Payne's Prairie trip today because I've been going full throttle lately and needed to give my body time to recover a little. I think tomorrow morning I will go to the gym and resume my treadmill and weights regimen with added determination. Another reason I abstained from the gym today was because I basically had classes straight from nine to five and just needed to relax when I returned home.

As I said before, for some reason I have been getting into a mental funk on Wednesdays because of all the classes but I also find myself in a more contemplative mood as well. As I have been watching my diet and exercising regularly lately, I feel a new surge of power going through me. I think I should take advantage of it by increasing my spiritual practices just a little. Just to give Krishna a little token piece of my day by chanting more regularly would be nice. I've had the desire in my heart for some time but if I don't act on that desire then it's not worth as much as it could be. I think, as a fringe benefit, I will become more satisfied in my heart if I do this. I have been restless lately but I think that is my general nature. I don't like to settle. I always feel the need to progress and experience new things.

In that light, I talked to a classmate today who is really into photography. I told her my problem is that people sometimes get uptight when I'm taking pictures of them. I don't like to ask others for permission unless I want them to get into the pose mode. I want something more authentic. of course, the pose mode can be fine also, but I want both. I think people get taken aback to see a middle-aged man come up to them and start snapping away. Even if they know me they are paranoid. "What are you going to do, post this on the internet or something?" People like their privacy and they can be very self-conscious about how they look. If they like the picture, however, they become happy. I wish I had more pictures of myself at certain times of my life but I don't and have no time machine available to go get them. Still, I guess I have to get used to all this and kind of just trudge on with my snapping. Panchagauda told me he doesn't ask questions, he just snaps away and acts stupid with a big smile on his face.

The girl I was talking to said that it is easier for her because she has a less threatening appearance as a young girl. Being a rotund-looking 44-year-old man, people who don't know me could think I'm some kind of pervert or something. She did say when I get a killer camera people will be more disarmed because I will look professional. As far as digital-SLR's go, she recommended a Pentax. I'm going to do some research as I plan to get a nice camera in the summer when the moolah is flowing again. I want to be well-equipped for Jounalism College.

My American Government exam was pretty easy. It took me about six minutes, ten minutes tops, to complete it as I was eating a plate of prasadam. It was so cool to casually eat as I took a test that I actually knew the answers to. Yeah, this semester has been that bad and I am traumitized. There were 20 questions and about six extra credit questions. If you need to take a political science class at Santa Fe College, I recommend Jay Maglio. Besides giving easy tests he's a cool, intelligent, and mutli-faceted guy.

Tarot Card Interpretations: II of Pentacles

2009-02-25T20:56:00.006-05:00

I carry a deck of Universal Waite Tarot cards with me. I've been reading them for about 15 years now and play with them daily. I carry them in my book bag, in my car and often sleep with them by my bedside. I guess you can say that over time I've developed a relationship with them. I'm not neurotic and certainly not psychotic, I don't believe I even need therapy. I'm not delusional, or hastily conclusional, nor do I bet the farm on them. I have just found them accurate, plain and simple, at least when I've handled them.

Anyway, over the years I've developed my own understanding about what each particular card could convey and I have decided to share that here on my blog from time to time. So, I will start today. There are 78 cards in the tarot deck- 22 in the Major Arcana and 56 in the Minor Arcana. I will now pick a card and give you my general interpretation of it. Of course, such interpretations have to be applied to the nature of the question you may be asking.

So, I chose the II of Pentacles for my first explanation. That is the card that is pictured at the top of this blog.

II of Pentacles:

The II of Pentacles depicts a young man holding a pentacle in each hand with the symbol of eternality wrapped around both of them. He is standing with one foot up, giving the impression of performing a show, a balancing act, or dancing. Behind him is the rolling sea, with two ships going up and down on the waves.

To me, this card denotes a carefree existence of wittiness, charm and fun. It sometimes alludes to someone who is clever with words but not totally serious about the subject matter or situation before him or her. In this respect, it implies indecision or fickleness, but the mood is so light, that one in the company of such a person would be more likely to enjoy it than be annoyed. This also indicates a talented person who has difficulty making up his or her mind.

In the realm of spirituality, it can mean someone who dabbles in many things but has a hard time sticking to any one discipline. A jack of all trades, master of none type of person, if you will. He or she is quite diverse in their knowledge but it can only go to a point because they refuse to put their heart into it enough or delve into it sufficiently to become a expert.

In matters of love in the material realm, it means someone who is flirtatious but not able to make up their mind about what or who they want in a mate. It is here where fickleness can drive a potential serious suitor to the brink of impatience. When there are no serious or burdensome expectations, this can indicate a playful, happy relationship, to the extent of having a good time in the company of the person.

This also can be a card of news, writing, or conveying a message. It indicates an adaptable person who can adjust to circumstances well and fit in almost anywhere. They are playful and spontaneous.

I am usually happy when I draw this card. I hope you are too.

I Love Tuesdays, Exercise Brought to You by Mars, and the Growing Tide of Republican Irrelevance

2009-02-24T23:16:00.006-05:00

This semester I love Tuesdays. Tuesday is a day off and I usually have energy. Tuesday is also kind of a clean-up, get-myself-together type of a day too. Glani is doing her thing and I'm doing mine. Radha is in her room and I might grab her to go grab a bite somewhere or something. Today, I did a couple of loads of laundry, organized my desk, put out the trash and recycle bins for Wednesday morning pickup, hit the gym for a couple of hours, washed the pile of dishes and pots in the kitchen, ate at the Fat Tuscan (soup and salad), wrote two blogs (actually this is my third of the day), cooked kichari, offered and partook, watched Obama and took notes for my American National Government class, played some good music including the Hussys, the Eagles and Phoebe Snow, picked up some natural dandruff shampoo at Mother Earth, unclogged a friggin' clogged toilet (that was a trip), and did an astrology reading for a client in New York among, I'm sure, other things that aren't coming to mind right now. Am I ramped up on speed or something? No. I'm ramped up on Mars, which rules Tuesdays. If you speak Spanish you'll know what I'm talking about it. After all, it isn't called Martes for nothing.

I felt really good today. This exercising is paying off. I'm praying my knee won't give out or something and leave me on the fat-man-sidelines anytime soon. Moderation is the key. I'm trying to increase slowly. So, my energy level is rising but the weight is dropping slowly. I think part of it is I'm converting some of it to muscle and that stuff really does weigh more. I'll take that kind of weight without problem. When I hit the treadmill today, I made sure my heart-rate stayed in the fat-burning zone as opposed to the muscle-eating zone. The muscle-eating zone sounds like out of a horror movie or something.

I still have to study for my American Government test. I think I'll do okay but I'll do even better if I study. There will be extra credit on the test from the Obama speech tonight which I did manage to watch. I thought it was a great speech. I liked it when he said that America took a surplus and transfered it to the wealthy while ignoring the rebuilding of America and important issues like health care, alternative energy and education. How can a rich person enjoy his wealth with a clear conscience when people are not getting adequate health care in this country? It's an abomination, in my obvious opinion, to make health care such a profit- driven industry. It's pathetic and symbolizes capitalistic greed gone amuck. I'm all for free- enterprise but that is absolute heartlessness. Conservative Christians who are against national health care boggle my mind. What is the primary thing Jesus did when he was on earth? Well, healing the sick without charge was definitely up there. Isn't Christianity suppose to symbolize helping your fellow humans? Anyway, suffice it to say, I liked what Obama had to say.

I think the Republicans are a bit dazzled about what to do about all this. President Obama is so charismatic that he has hit rock star status. He is so competent and inspiring and the country's state is so dire, that you would have to be pretty much be inhuman to not want to jump on board at least partially, I would think. It appears that the Republican party as we have known it for years will be taking the back seat of irrelevance for at least a good decade or so, if my intuition on the matter is anywhere near correct.

Monday, February 23

2009-02-24T10:42:00.008-05:00

I asked Radha how many Oscars "Slumdog Millionaire" ended up winning. "I already told you," she said annoyed. In case you didn't know, Radha is not the best morning person, especially when we're on our way to school. "No, you didn't," I said. Radha gets annoyed at me when she tells me something and I forget and then ask her again. I was upset that she brands me like that because sometimes she's wrong, like this time, for example. But generally, she's right, my memory is not like it was. Still, I pointed out to her, it's no reason to be rude. From there it escalated. She thought I wasn't giving her a chance to talk and I thought she was being rude and disrespectful. Finally, I raised my voice and told her to never say the words "I've already told you that" again, especially in that tone of hers.

Later, I felt bad that I yelled and texted her "I love you." Even later, I told her that even if I completely disagree with her and feel she's being obnoxious, I will not resort to yelling at her anymore. "I don't care," she responded. But later in the day she was nice to me again. Probably extra nice.

Shyam had me proof-read a 800-word paper he wrote Sunday night on preparing for a job interview. I was surprised to only find three minor errors. It was well-written also. In the morning he told me he had to make a presentation to the class and was preparing note cards for it. I told him to make eye contact with the class, praise them, establish his crediblity, and then after referring to each point on the index cards, pause and wing it with a humorous comment. He seemed to take in what I said pretty well. Later, I saw him in B-building getting ready to "go on stage." I also saw Syami who is going to take some Spring-B classes. He asked me where the assessment building was.

I wrote a letter to Nila Madhava concerning his mother's passing on Saturday and let him know I was there for him if I needed him. I let him know about my mother's passing when I was 14 and said I know how hard it is to talk about it sometimes. He wrote back that he appreciated it and told us that his mother liked us a lot and really loved Glani. He also said he feels relieved that his Mom's suffering was over and was happy to think of her as participating in Krishna's pastimes now.

I ran four miles, or should I say briskly walked for four miles at the gym on Monday night. It felt great. I tried to jog several times during the hour but my knee started hurting. It was better than previously, though, and I obviously have more energy now. I held off on the weight lifting until Tuesday. I want to give my muscles more time to recover from the previous session, after all I'm 44 and not on steroids. I experienced momentary muscle failure last time on about the eighth machine. I was taking to it too fast. Waiting another day will help, I thought. Besides, Tuesdays are ruled by Mars, which rules muscles. It's a great day for exercise, weight-lifting and physical activity in general. I'm excited about getting in shape. I hope to get down to near 210 before the summer and under 200 by the time the fall semester starts in late August.

Speaking of the summer, I will be doing some traveling with Dhrits, who is a fellow food-enthusiast like myself, so I will have to be vigilant. Dhrits is hilarious. He has so many stories to tell of his days in the air force and later as a hippie. He joined the Hare Krishna Movement in the 70's and explained how an "attractive mataji" invited him to the Sunday Love Feast and how he was partly thinking there might be an orgy. When I traveled with him two years ago, every night he would call his wife Tulasi and give her the run down on the day. It was always highlighted by our food experiences, even more so than the money we made. If Tulasi vented about difficulty dealing with someone Dhrits would say "Don't listen to any of them. They're knuckleheads," and leave it at that. At the end of the conversations he would always quickly say "Love you, miss you."

I think I did decently on my Algebra test. The Topics of Math quiz was postponed until Friday (thank God). I had to guess my way through the Geology quiz. It was just matching terms and definitions. I usually do good on those things without studying because I am pretty good with the English language. I told my teacher Dr. Mead that I take six classes and by the time I get to my hardest class, Geology, my head is in a fog. I was hoping to get some sympathy points from him at the end of the semester if it came down to it. It seemed to initially work as he acted surprised and spoke with a more compassionate tone as he answered a question I had.

Glani and I ate around 3 p.m. at the Fat Tuscan. She didn't want to go but I talked her into it. The salad and sandwich were pretty good. Glani liked her veggie sandwich a lot. I had the Formage a Trois Panini, which of course sounds very suggestive. The atmosphere is nice and the decor is cute. Later, I discovered a cool dining area outside replete with brick floor and Italian-style fountain. I want to take my daughter and eat outside there on a warm day. They are only opened until 3:30 p.m.

Sunday, February 22

2009-02-24T09:22:00.008-05:00

Sunday morning I went for a japa walk with Govinda. He had put a Amy's pot pie in the oven so he had to head back when we got to Main Street. I called AV to tell him I was walking and to let me know when he was arriving at my house. "I'm at your porch," he said. "Want to come pick me up?" I asked. "No, I'll meet you half way."

So, I headed back and saw his form coming down the hill on SE 2nd Ave, just West of 7th Street. As I got a little closer I saw that he was in his constitutional form- on the cell phone. I walked toward him and then heard a cry to my right "Gargamuni!" A car pulled up from across the lane. I stepped closer and squinted to see Satyahit replete with sun glasses and looking cool at 66. He asked me where I lived and I invited him over to check out the homestead. We called AV over and he jumped in.

As I gave Satyahit the obligatory tour, I laughed, thinking of Larry David refusing to see the tour of Susie's new home on the show "Curb Your Enthusiasm." "What's the big deal?" he said. "You sleep here, you eat there. I already get it." Of course, Susie was insulted. "Yu're skipping the tour? Get the hell out, you four-eyed-fuck." A lot of men I know don't like her foul-mouthed psycho-bitch character but I think it's hilarious.

Satyahit hung out with us awhile, plucked on the guitar and said nice things about our house. I asked if they wanted to go for another walk. "Let's go to Maude's, I'll buy," I said.

I praised Satyahit for all the nice service he was doing at Krishna Lunch. "You lift a lot of heavy buckets," I said. He said he appreciated it but admitted it gets monotonous sometimes.

Satyahit and AV were meeting for the first time. On the way there they talked about a mutual friend they had who lived in Vancouver. He was one of AV's best friends growing in the gurukula and they traveled all over with each other. He also roomed with Satyahit. Instant connection. Emails were exchanged and a nice discussion ensued.

I ordered a hot choclate. AV got a Mocha, which dwarfed the size of mine. Satyahit already had a coffee, so he ordered a water which never came. We sat next to an artist, working on clay and he heard everything with interest- The relative and absolute instructions of the guru, the child abuse that happened at the gurukula's, all the traveling, the old friends, book distribution, etc. I kept glancing over at the artist to see his response. On the surface he was given access to a fascinating sub-culture, warts and all. He especially widened his eyes when the talks turned more spiritual.

Suddenly Trey and Kelly appeared. Trey on his skateboard and Kelly on roller blades. They are both part of the seminary program at the Krishna House in Gainesville. They are young and enthusiastic about Krishna consciousness and they're enthusiasm is contagious.

They discussed that the current seminary students will be moving out of the ashram soon to make way for more candidates. It is a wonderful program where students live for a year and learn about Krishna. On Thursdays, they cook, serve, lead the kirtans and give class themselves. I think the program is awesome. Kelly said she's planning to bike across the country in March of 2010 and stop in Krishna temples along the way. For the artist, I imagined it was as if an idea for a great novel was coming to his mind.

AV bought some software for $8 so he could transfer my 20,000 plus songs from my iPod onto his iTunes. It worked surprisingly well. It took about a day to complete. I called him up and said "You're the proud new father of 20,000 diverse tunes."

At Shyam's game Muki appeared to hurt his knee very bad late in the second half. I was sitting next to his cousin Mathura, Kana, AV and Trevor when we all heard the loud "pop" from the sidelines. I saw his knee bend the wrong way. Apparently his knee capp popped out of place and didn't go back for some time. Muki, a tank of a young man, was rolling in the box holding his knee and writhing in pain. A bunch of firemen from the local fire department carried him to a wheel chair and wheeled him to his car. His girlfriend drove him off.

I went to Alachua that evening to pick up Radha at Kesi's house. We stopped at the temple and the place was packed because they were celebrating Shiva-Ratri at the Sunday Feast. I couldn't stay because Radha felt she wasn't dressed properly. So, I ran in to buy some prasadam from Muhkya's table. I couldn't decide on what to choose and started flipping a coin to get an answer. I get very strange when I'm indecisive. I left with two plates full for the family to sample, including pizza, lasagna, calzone and cheesecake. It set me back $11.

We watched the Oscars while I tried to do my homework. Finally, I had to cloister myself in another room, unable to think straight from the repeated "jai ho's" during the Bollywood-like production from "Slumdog Millionaire."

Super Saturday

2009-02-22T09:03:00.005-05:00

Saturday was bustling with activity. I awoke and attended the Hridayananda Goswami telephone conference which was being broadcast from my home at 8 am. He spoke on the very interesting topic of the difference between the relative and absolute words of the spiritual master. Devotees have often made the mistake of anointing anecdotal stories or comments by Srila Prabhupada with absolute truth. This has caused confusion and fanaticism. Devotees sometimes think that being a pure devotee makes one materially omniscient, which is not the case. Srila Prabhupada's opinions and policies on practical matters involving this world obviously evolved over time. Based on that observation, there is no reason to think they would not have continued to do so if Prabhupada had remained on the planet longer. To me, the logical conclusion is that we have to grow up as devotees and apply the eternal principles that Srila Prabhupada taught us according to the present time, place and circumstance. The talk was recorded by Ali Krishna dasi and should be available soon at http://acharyadeva-nectar.pbwiki.com/Recent+Lectures.

Glani prepared a nice breakfast of scrambled tofu, fakin' bacon, english muffins, kale and fruit. Ali Krsna, Jaya Sita, and Sri Rupa attended in person along with Glani, Govinda and I. Ali asked me to start to give Vedic astrology classes at the preaching center on Mondays and I told her I was interested and would get back to her. Later, Glani and I took a nice japa walk with Hridayananda Goswami along with Taruni dasi, a Chineese-bodied devotee from Austrailia. We looked at a rental room at the Zen Buddhist center in town for some devotee who was coming. The director of the center was a nice old guy who I later remarked looked like a brother of Charles Manson. I don't think I ever made HDG laugh so hard. It wasn't a nice thing to say but I couldn't resist.

I talked to Taruni about her husband's recent passing from a brain tumor. They had run a preaching center and restaurant together in Austraila and she opened up about the two-and-a-half-year experience of his illness. I related Glani's recent close call with endometrial cancer and later Glani joined us and talked extensively with Taruni about her experiences. Taruni is a very good cook and gave us spring rolls she made. Her husband left his body on December 17th, so she is now trying to get her head together and go on with her life. It has been a very hard time for her as she is a disciple of Jayapataka Swami and as her husband was going through his final stages, her guru suffered a stroke. She is an accomplished violinist who used to front a rock band that toured Australia.

I went home and studied for a bout three hours on up-coming exams and then worked out for almost another three hours at the Gainesville Health and Fitness Center. I ran the treadmill for an hour, lifted weights, including using a few machines for my core, and then hit the basketball court.

When I went to get the mail I met Marcello, a young neighbor girl who had kind of adopted one of our cats, Mohan, about two years ago. She is so cute and gives Mohan so much love that it made me feel better about Mohan leaving our house. He still comes to visit once in a while but sometimes I go for weeks without spotting him. From day one, Mohan was a different kind of cat. He used to follow us everywhere like a dog and sit up in the strangest positions like a human. He was also very athletic and used to catch a tennis ball in mid-air, bringing the ball to his chest with his paws without it touching the ground. He was a ferocious hunter and used to kill squirrels and birds almost daily. I once wrote a poem about him which I will post if I can find it later called "My Cat the Killer."

I told Marcello all about his history including what his name really was and she was so excited. Her mother came over and I told them about the time I drove down University Ave. with Mohan on the top of my van, which was unbeknownst to me. I heard him screaming and kept looking in the rear-view mirror for an emergency vehicle as I drove down the road at a clip of over 40 mph. Finally a driver pointed to my roof when I was at a stop light and Mohan jumped off the van into the bushes. I got him and brought him home. His heart was racing and he curled up to me on the porch in shock for hours after. Later, the little girl came by one day and Mohan followed her home. She gave him so much attention and started feeding him after asking my mother-in-law to buy him so food. I was always sad that Mohan left but now I feel cool about it.

Marcello introduced me to her mother Carolina as the real owner of "Kitty-cat" and that his name is really Mohan. Mohan was originally given to Govinda by his then girl-friend Megan. Megan named him Mohan after Gandhi. As we talked about the cat's pastimes, Mohan proudly assumed his human pose so I could take a few shots of him. Carolina told me how Marcello was upset with him killing birds and squirrels so she told Marcello to mentally tell him everyday to stop that and only kill rats. For the next week Mohan only brought dead rats and mice to their front door.

At night, I went to Santa Fe College to see my nephew Kavi perform at "Stars Night Out." I didn't have a ticket and it was sold out so I asked Radha to bring the ripped off portion of her and Vrn's ticket out so I could sneak in. They didn't tear the tickets but took them fully instead. Apparently Radha couldn't call out so I waited outside like a common criminal. Vrn finally texted me of the situation and I decided perhaps I would try to talk my way in. I saw people getting turned away at the door and waited until the gate-keeper's backs were turned and bolted through the doors. I made it but when I got in there were no seats left. So, I just stood on the side. I looked for Radha and Vrn but couldn't see them. I tried to send a text and then an angry looking man who looked like he had some authority approached me. I thought he was going to kick me out so I prepared for some stupid excuse. Instead, he admonished me for using my cell phone and asked that I turn it off. Later, a seat opened up and I took it. The show was okay but I got there too late to see Kavi's part. Vrn and Radha said his rendition of "Waiting for Gordot" was the best performance of the night.

Later, Radha, Kavi, Vrn and I went to Chop Stix at Thornebrook Village and had a good time. Vrn gave Radha a ride to Kavi's and on the way Radha called me and gave me the sad news about Chaitanya-lila's passing. I teared up and when I got home wrote some thoughts about her on the this blog, which you can find at http://gargsville.blogspot.com/2009/02/sweet-chaitanya-lila.html.

Sweet Chaitanya-Lila

2009-02-21T23:14:00.007-05:00

Chaintaya-lila left her body today. She was a lovely person. When my daughter told me on the phone I couldn't help but cry. I was struck more than I thought I would be. At this stage I expected it to happen but was still hoping for a miracle turnaround. I just saw her son Nila last Sunday at my son's soccer game and know this must be very hard for him. Every encounter I ever had with Chaintanya since I first met her twenty years ago was pleasant. I did some astrology for her over the years and she always impressed me with her good nature despite whatever difficulties she might have been going through.

My wife was diagnosed with cancer a little after she was. They bonded and gave each other emotional support for sometime. Chaitanya gave us a good source to get Essiac tea, a Native American herbal tea blend which is known for its anti-cancer properties. My wife drank it every day for several months.

Chaintanya fought the disease and never gave up. We would visit her and even when she was in pain she would be a gracious host. She told us she wanted to live for her children and was always positive that she would be cured. By Krishna's grace, my wife's cancer was caught just in time. Chaintany-lila's case was more complicated. She tried various treatments, both naturopathic and conventional, some worked for awhile but the cancer kept its foot in the door. When she went down to Hippocrates Health Institute, she had an automobile accident and her tumor was hit. She spent her time there mostly recovering from the accident. Over the course of months, her condition worsened and we lost contact with her. I think it took too much energy for her to communicate so much with people. She spent her last days in Tampa, in the care of her loving her sister Ballavhi. By Krishna's arrangement, sweet Chaitanya-lila, who I never heard say a bad word about anyone, left this world today for a better situation as directed by the Lord's inconceivable will.

Separation is a difficult thing. We are covered over by illusion and conditioned to think we are these physical bodies. We have a hard time realizing the eternality of the soul or at least experiencing it practically. Our vision is marred and therefore when a loved one leaves us we are sometimes bewildered. I lost my mother at 14 when she was 52 and it changed the way I looked at life forever. I was very saddened and I wanted answers. I became a searcher and wanted to know why we live and die and what the purpose of life was. In the Bhagavad-gita Krishna says "Never was their a time I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings; nor in the future shall any of us cease to be." Bg. 2.12 These are comforting words from the lips of Krishna Himself. When I first heard them I was so relieved. My instincts were confirmed, the real person does not experience death when the body dies.

The painful thing for Chaitanya-lila's loved ones will be the separation. The thought that we will never see her again in this lifetime is heavy. Of course, we're all standing in line to go through the same experience when our number comes up. We don't know when that will be but we can be sure it will indeed be called. So Chaitanya's number was called earlier than we expected but she is really still with us. Krishna is right next to all of us within each individual heart, so we are also sitting next to each other by His power. We are packed up together through the potency of Krishna and remain that way even after the body dies. Chaitanya is now beyond the scope and purview of our limited senses but we will reunite with her one day as we all eventually wake up from this dream of repeated birth and death.

Writing, Fitness, and Being Wound Too Tight

2009-02-21T00:19:00.009-05:00

I realize that I may never make any money writing. I have pretty much struggled all my life money-wise and know it's possible it could stay that way my whole life. I hate that but what can I do but keep trying? I know also I could one day strike it rich. I hope to at least make a comfortable living soon. That's why I'm going to school. I suggested Journalism College to a friend today and he said "Not to discourage you but I don't see any money it in." he might have a point but time will tell.

Anyway, that's not why I write exactly. Sure, I'd love to get paid for it and I know I'm quite capable of writing that's worthy of getting published, but the main reason why I write is for personal fulfillment. Every time I write a blog I feel accomplished, whereas when I don't write anything I feel like I have just frittered away precious time.

Another reason I like to write is the idea of leaving something good behind. That's one of my main goals of life, leaving something of at least a little value for posterity's sake. If I can help people in some small way, who not only live during my time but come after me, then my writing will live on after I'm long gone and contain my energy, will and spirit.

I guess I ultimately write because I burn to. I want to get better but wherever I'm at, I feel the dire need to express myself in written word. So, in such a state, I have pushed myself to continue to at least produce something every day. In short, I've got the fever.

I'm doing well in my fitness regimen. I started at 249 pounds a month ago and am now down to 234 pounds. Fifteen pounds in one month ain't too shabby. And I've done it the right way by not starving myself, eating healthy and doing regular exercise. It also helps that I eat very little if anything at night. On Thursday I hit the gym for the second time this week. I really pressed it going up 20 pounds in weight on every machine in the line except for one. I was able to increase my weights that much because the first day I started very light just to make sure my muscles could take it.

School is a scramble. I have one test and two quizzes on Monday. The test is in Algebra and the quizzes are in Geology and Topics of Math. The grades I get on these will be critical to my success this semester. I'm actually limping through six classes but still have time to turn things around. I really need to get it together.

I just submitted my application for UF Journalism School a week or so ago and have until March 1 to get my supporting documents turned in. I'm experiencing some delay with getting my transcripts over from Windham High School. I graduated from there back in '82, as Uncle Rico would say. The letters of recommendation are also a little hard to get together at this late hour. I'm a last minute man and I don't like it.

Hridayananda Maharaja is holding a japa video-conference at my home on Saturday morning but I won't be there. I have to work and I promised myself I would go back to the gym. So that's my plan.

It's so hard to juggle everything in my life right now. I sometimes feel I am holding on by a thread and then sometimes it gets easier. The intensity makes me feel a little estranged from people. It's almost like I can't relax when I get the chance because I have too big of a burden on my back. Perhaps this is just a little turbulence and things will get better down the road. I plan to work hard during the summer and hopefully that may relieve some of the financial burden. If I get into UF in the fall, I plan to hit the ground running but not with any crazy schedule like these last two semesters. I know I said I think balance is an illusion but I could definitely use some right now. I'm having an inner-ear crisis.

Tonight I hung out at my brother Kesi's and his wife's Veronica's house. They are artists. I love artists and would really like to be around creativity all the time. Shyam, Radha and Kavi were there. It was fun but I took some time to unwind. I'm wound way too tight these days. Kesi and Veronica are on a sculpting marathon where they have to produce 20 weeks of sculpture for a production company in the span of 5 weeks. It's intense but at least they have work.

Tonight, I know my writing was a little on the bland side. I hope some readers found it at least a little interesting. I'll try to be more conscious of writing in a more entertaining style in the future. I have some interesting topics in mind so stay tuned.

Like a Zombie and Like a Kid

2009-02-18T23:53:00.004-05:00

Today I was a zombie. I notice when I don't get enough sleep and have a heavy workload I tend to get a little mentally down. I wouldn't call it depressed, but I would call it a bit forlorn. In some ways forlorn is a heavier word. The dictionary describes it as desolate or dreary, or even hopeless. I've never really been hopeless, I'm actually a rather hopeful and optimistic person. I think I'm more like a little kid who gets down when he doesn't get his cookie or something. It only lasts a few hours or half a day, though, and then I quickly bounce back. Sleep is very important. I ask myself why I have allowed myself to take on a ridiculous schedule for some future award? I have to get out of this habit, otherwise it will be perpetual and I will always be a slave to over-working. You can't do it all in one day, anyway. It's better to work at a comfortable pace and gradually build up momentum in your life. That way, you can actually enjoy it on the way. What a novel concept.

I stayed up to about 4 a.m. last night (this morning) studying for the Geology test. This was the price I had to pay for not looking over the notes every other day for 15 minutes to a half-hour. That's all it would have took. Instead, I let the anxiety build until it hit critical mass and I had to cram for hours on end. After about the first hour or two, I started forgetting everything I had crammed in prior, so it kind of an act of futility. I decided to study more in school and skipped my first three classes. After one period of studying, I couldn't take it anymore and walked to my car to rest for about an hour-and-a-half. After that, I felt better, but not that much better. I then trudged on toward the prasadam table and had some spaghetti. Kana was sitting on the bench eating and Nitai Diniz (Sri Bhakti's son) was there also. Glani and Kelly showed up a few minutes later in their nursing-student blue outfits. I told Glani that I studied for an hour and then slept for an hour. Nitai smiled and said that's the best way to do it.

I was also irritable today (what is this, true confessions?). Generally, I'm not an irritable person, really. The Geology test was hard and then we went to the Florida Museum of Natural History for the Geology Lab. It was hot in the building and we had to write on our lab sheets answers to various questions in the dark (we were in simulated caves). It was easy enough, but I was getting dizzy from being too hot and too tired. A couple of the kids there have taken a liking to me and I'm developing a bit of a rapport with them. One of the kids had followed me to my car at Santa Fe and was very talkative. He told me his name but I forgot it. I'm terrible with names. Later, we both walked from the Hilton on 34th Street to the museum and then back to our cars when it was all over. The kid is probably around 18 or 19 and I talk to him like he's my age, although I'm 44. Sometimes it feels weird but mostly it feels normal. Mentally speaking, by my estimation, I'm really only in my early twenties. I mean, I have matured but I just don't identify with being old, although my body certainly doesn't feel like it used to. I still have a lot of energy but I really suffer when I lack sleep.

I enjoy having friends of all ages. I might prefer the association of younger people more because their thinking isn't so jaded by past ugly experiences. When I'm walking in school I almost see myself as one of them (the teenagers and kids in their early twenties). We are all spirit souls after all and therefore are all really the same age. But when I occasionally look in the mirror, I get a little taken aback. "I'm walking around in this thing?" I say to myself. "What a joke." I think I look okay for my age but I'm a;lso fat (besides being middle-aged) and I can't stand being it. If I took off enough weight, I'm sure I would look and feel at least ten years younger. I am Virgo rising vargottama (virgo rising in both the birth chart and the navamsa) which generally lends itself to very good longevity. Standard astrological texts say that people born under that influence can live past 100. I know Bob Hope was one such person with that configuration. The question is do I hate being fat enough to make a long term commitment to getting it off? I have trimmed down to 237 from about 248 over the last 30 days, so I'm making some progress. The problem is I'm impatient. I have to remember that slow and steady wins the race, or loses the weight, as the case may be.

I also think I may be going through some kind of subtle mid-life crisis. I haven't really put my finger on it but I feel like half my life is gone and I haven't done as much as I wanted to by now. The other thing is, I want to be young, I don't want to grow old. I'm like a kid who wants every day to be fun. I am responsible but I don't want to take on so much of a burden that it cripples my happy-spirit. At the same time, I'm also grateful for the knowledge that I'm not my body and realize the real answer is to pursue the practical realization of that. But I want both. I want to gradually realize who I am beyond this body and find a nice cruising altitude to have a good time in this world on my way. This is certainly not nrvrti-marga, or the path of strict renunciation but I like to look at renunciation in the sense of yukta-vairagya, or dovetailing all aspects of my life in the service of the Supreme. Such a process can spiritualize what on the surface may appear as run of the mill mundane pursuits and desires. I must admit, I have too strong of a Venus in my astrological chart to approach it any other way at this time of my life.

Daily Balance is Near Impossible

2009-02-18T00:33:00.005-05:00

When I was younger, I pulled all-nighters on days like these but not anymore. I have my first major exam in Geology tomorrow but I have to acknowledge that right now sleep is more important to my overall well-being than getting a few more points added to my grade. If I'm not ready for the test by now, I will have to just wait to make it up the next time. Again, as usual, procrastination has come back to bite me in the ass. Of course, I could be more prepared than I thought but I am going to lift the burden of worry off of my mind and go on with my life from here.

I took two quizzes last Friday, which I was sure I was going to bomb in; one in Geology and one in International Relations. To my surprise, I did well on not one (which would have been a big enough surprise anyway), but on both. I got a 110 on my International Relations quiz (including one extra credit question, and an 85 on my Geology quiz. I was pretty sure I was going to get under a 60 on both. Events like that make me think I am destined to get through this semester unscathed.

I went to the gym yesterday and am sore from hitting the weight-machine line. It felt good, though. I also walked on the treadmill for 50 minutes. I was unable to go any faster than 4.0 mph because my bum left knee would start aching every time I went into a jog for over one minute.

Today, I took a two-hour walk from my home to Mother Earth and back. I saw Chakradhara at the health food store and we decided to eat lunch together at the Book Lover's Cafe, one of the only two pure vegetarian restaurants in Gainesville. I ordered a Tempeh Reuben sandwich and a salad. The sandwich had sauerkraut on it and some thousand island vegan dressing. It was fantastico.

I picked up Phoebe Snow's 1974 self-titled LP which includes the song "Poetry Man." The whole album has a bluesy-folk feel. My daughter commented that Snow has a voice everyone wants; she can hit both the high notes and low notes well. Listening to it several times, I came to the conclusion that the album still holds up today. It's very relaxing, soothing and poetic. Perhaps I am so into singer-songwriter woman singers because I still feel sub-consciously bereft due to my mother dying at such an early age.

Apparently, the label kind of coerced Snow later to try to go more pop in later LP's. It turned out to be a bad move and she gradually faded into obscurity. "Poetry Man" remains to me one of the most gracious forbidden love songs I have ever heard; that is if you believe that grace can somehow exist in the realm of infidelity.

After studying my geological butt off for a few hours, Radha and I drove to Alachua to get some kebabs from Sabjimata. I had been buggin' her, whose real devotional name is Devadeva, about when she would again make some of her famous kebabs. She was kind enough to put some aside for us after making a batch for some house guests. We met her husband and kids; they have a beautiful family. Their daughter kept showing me covers of her devotional videos as we waited, while at the same time keeping a safe distance due to her unfamiliarity with Radha and I.

We also picked some kebabs up for Chakradhara and Hridayananda Goswami. After we said our goodbyes, Radha, my dear daughter and chauffeur, drove us over to Fresh Market to get some of their scrumptious bread. It was, you guessed it, veggie kebab sandwiches tonight baby.

Shyam stayed over for a couple nights and he was happy to be able to join a u-20 traveling soccer team. We ordered some cleats from Eurosport and we took a long look at his chart. He peered at it intensely and gradually asked for a description of every house, sign, planet and lordship placement as I was trying to study for my Geology exam. "I'm going to ask you about everything you know," he said seriously. "I can teach you but it takes some time," I answered.

"I want to play soccer," he said "But soccer is trivial. I want to do something more important with my life." "Okay," I said. "Just be sincere and Krishna will reveal everything to you." He's very concerned about what his major should be.

Govinda, my stepson, recently broke up with his girlfriend who is not a devotee. She's a very nice girl so it is painful. The major problem is he has to continue working with her in Architecture School. It's tough because they are attracted and still care about each other but he is fairly certain that their outlooks on life would not make the relationship work in the long term. He's very sincere about spiritual life and chants on his japa beads and reads Prabhupada's books regularly.

I stayed in his apartment alone the last couple of nights because we had to shuffle the sleeping arrangements around while Shyam was here. While Govinda's apartment has all facility, it does kind of have an isolated feel to it. "I felt lonely over there," I said. "I know what you mean," Govinda answered. "That's why I come and hang out with you guys a lot." I further thought that life as a writer can be a lonely one. You have to spend a lot of time by yourself in order to produce anything of value. When I'm alone is really the only time I can get anything done. I don't like being alone, however, so I have to balance it. I need human contact.

I was thinking today that balance on a daily basis is near impossible. With all the ebb and flow of life that is beyond our control, we have to adjust our sails daily and weekly to more balance out our needs over the accumulated month. Therefore, I think, to be balanced on a monthly basis is more doable. Otherwise, we can get too rigid and militaristic trying to stick to a daily routine despite the changing energies that life puts before us. In short, I'm into going with the flow but at some point I realize I may have to swim against the tide a bit to keep my equilibrium.

Bathroom Meditations

2009-02-17T00:07:00.006-05:00

I know no one wants to get germs in the public bathroom but it's downright rude not to flush the toilet or urinal after you use it. I don't enjoy peeing into your pee. There's something intrinsically weird about it. I know it's left your body and it's left mine but it still feels perverse and it should not be practiced. I don't desire to inhale the fumes of your urine while I'm urinating either. The possibility of backsplash is also worrisome. Also, I don't think I should have to flush your urine before I proceed. Sometimes, I'm even in line behind you and you don't flush. You just walk away and look at me as if everything's cool. It's not cool. Flush the damn toilet, you animal. Disgusting.

I always feel a little guilty about being the first to use the toilet after someone washes it. At a public bathroom there is no guilt. I'm totally ecstatic that I have come across a clean toilet. But if it's at my house or one of my friends, I feel like I'm defacing the purity or something. Sometimes, it looks so sparkling clean that it seems a shame to use it for what it was intended for.

The body is a container filled with some pretty disgusting substances, if you really think about it. We walk around and shake people's hands when we are introduced to them, while they and we have all that stuff in us that we regularly make an effort to expel from our bodies and vanquish from our sight. Every hole of the body is an outlet for something undesirable. I don't need to get into these undesirable substances here but suffice it to say, their valuable essence has been pretty much been extracted out of them and the worst of the worst, the stuff that the body has no use for, is thrown out into the waiting world.

Actually, the body takes delicious-looking foodstuffs (if they didn't look delicious, there would not be so much motivation for eating) and basically takes what it can out of them, turning the rest into purely unwanted materials. Okay, I will mention some of this stuff just to get my point across: ear wax, vomit, feces, urine, saliva, snot, etc. There are many more but you already know all these and I'm sure you get the picture. We are basically walking around brimming full of all this stuff and trying to be attractive, with not much really separating each other from this "stuff" other than our skin. And the funny thing is. we often are attracted to each other. Very attracted. So much so that we lose our minds for a while in the process. The "skin-wrapping" makes it all okay and even very desirable. I guess that's a good argument for gift-wrapping presents. It just makes it all seem so much better than it really is.

Rainy Sunday

2009-02-16T00:28:00.009-05:00

Today I struggled for four hours with one online Geology assignment. My professor does not make things easy to say the least. There is a big time test on Wednesday and I better start studying tomorrow for it.

Radha and Vrn went out to Wards and bought fix-in's for burritos. Glani cooked and it tasted scrumptious. We all sat out on the porch table- Glani, Govinda, Radha, Vrn, and myself.

It was overcast and occasionally drizzling today. I went to Shyam's game and saw Mathura, Nila Madhava and Kana there. It was so nice to see them again. They were all smiles. I've known all of them since they were small children. I have a lot of love in my heart for both Shyam and Radha's childhood friends.

Alachua Real had to play down two (wo)men and they lost 1-0. Chris Hotary, in an uncharacteristic move, got a red card for pushing a player from the opposing team in the face. He's probably suspended for almost the rest of the regular season now.

Shyam stayed the night and we had a long talk about what he should do with his future. He came to me and not the other way around, which is good. He seems self-motivated. He wants some engagement after school, so we agreed to both hit the gym together. Krishna knows I could use it. He has the body of a well-trained athlete and told me he was been doing pull-ups, crunches and push-ups every day. He's over 160 pounds now and leaning toward going to UF after Santa Fe and playing for their club team. He still hasn't given up the idea of playing soccer professionally. He would have been playing Division I college soccer this year if he had stuck it out at Florida Gulf Coast but he told me he doesn't regret leaving. He just felt too isolated from his childhood friends and the devotees. Now he is thinking of maybe going to UF and then trying to make his way up through the minor leagues and then into the MLS. He will go into his major period of Jupiter when he's 23. He'll turn 19 this September. Jupiter is exalted for him as it is situated in the sign of Cancer. It also aspects his Moon.

He is trying to decide what to major in. He had a 3.90 GPA in high school and so far has a 4.0 at Santa Fe College. Even though I wanted him to play soccer at FGCU, I'm glad he's here because I would be missing him. He is actually toying with the idea of going into Journalism just like Pops. I told him if he wanted a fast and decent salary he could go into the Pharmacist Program. He told me it doesn't interest him.

I heard that my nephew Kavi just got his license. Next on the agenda could be a set of wheels.

Vroom vroom.

The kids have grown up so fast it's mind boggling.

One day there will be grand kids and dare I say, grey hair?

Note to self: Lose weight, feel great, chant Hare Krishna, and grow older with grace.

Health Scare of a Year Ago

2009-02-15T00:33:00.008-05:00

Recently, I have been thinking about starting a health and weight-loss blog. The idea would be to follow both my health and weight as a motivational method of being more conscious of my bodily condition. Without health, all the boons in the world are of no value to a person. About a year ago, I had a health scare. I awoke with an arrhythmia and had to call 9-1-1. It was a very scary experience.

My weight has gone up and down over the years. At the beginning of 2008 it was 245. I got it down to 229 in September but then it went up to 249 in January of 2009. Over the last month, I have got it down to 239. I know this up and down weight fluctuation is bad for the metabolism and being heavy puts a strain on the body and heart. My first goal is to get my weight below 200. After that, I would like to drop to about 175 and replace fat with muscle. I know that for me, losing weight and improving my health will go hand and hand. Anyway, what follows is a description I wrote in March of 2008:

Thursday night I went to sleep around 11 p.m.. At three a.m. I awoke from a dream where I was hanging from a dock over perilous water. In the dream I couldn’t pull myself up and when I finally awoke my heart was racing. I tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t. My chest felt a numbing heaviness, so I sat up and tried to pull myself together. I didn’t feel right. Fearing I may be having a heart attack, I walked to the kitchen to find an aspirin to thin out my blood. Shuffling through my medicine drawer, I found nothing that resembled aspirin but Tylenol and Aleve. I knew Tylenol was not aspirin but was not sure about Aleve, so I popped one. I then walked dizzily to my MacIntosh and looked up Aleve on the internet. To me chagrin, I read that Aleve thickens the blood and has been linked to some heart attacks. I also read that Flax seed oil thins the blood. I walked to the refrigerator and took a huge swig. My mouth and throat felt thick and slippery like a car might feel after changing it’s oil. But now my jaw was numbing. I felt like I was in trouble. The circumstances seemed fixed against me. Perhaps I was meant to die. "Die?" I thought. "That’s ridiculous" "I’m only 43 years-old. I have so much more to do. It can’t possibly end here." But over the course of the next fifteen minutes, my symptoms worsened. I did not want to go to the hospital. I hate hospitals.

I started praying earnestly to Krishna that He could arrange to make me avoid it. "I will really take care of my health," I promised. But I could not escape the reality of what I was feeling. Now my heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to explode out of my chest. The heaviness there was more than ever and there was a distinct pain in the side of my neck and shoulder. I was gradually losing consciousness and my thoughts were becoming increasingly incoherent. "I have to call 911 now," I thought. I knew there was no other choice. It was only a question if I had waited too long.

Calling 911 was not an easy thing for me. As I said, I am not a big fan of the whole procedure you have to go through when going to the hospital. The suffering all around, the room shuffling, the waiting, and the possible arrogance of some of the health care practitioners. It wasn’t before long, though, that I realized I had done the right thing.

I grabbed the phone and headed out to my porch. Sitting down on the couch, I punched the numbers I had heard all my life but never dialed: 9-1-1.

Back in 1988, my first wife Kirtan dialed those magical numbers during her first week on American soil. It was about 8 p.m. on a cold February night in Connecticut when she tuned into the show "America’s Most Wanted" for the first time. The screen transfixed her. She immediately saw the truth of what was out there in the cities and small towns of America- dangerous criminals on the loose, just looking for a little more action. At the time, I had gone off to the corner store to pick up some things for the refrigerator. When I returned about 45 minutes later, Kirtan told me the story about being scared watching the show and then hearing a strange noise outside. I don’t recall whether the operator dispatched law enforcement to the house or just calmed Kirtan down. When I returned home, we had a good laugh and I assured her that things were not that bad in America.

This call was different. I was really in need of help. When the operator started asking me questions I was a little off kilter. I stated my age wrong and quickly got annoyed at all the myriad of questions the lady was throwing at me. I could barely talk and wanted to save my energy for the essentials.

"How many people live in the household sir?" "What kind of question is that?" I countered. "Just please send someone here as fast as possible." "They are already on the way," she said. "Please cooperate with my questions so we can make this easier for everybody." "Look, I’m going to black out at any second," I responded.

At that moment I realized that no one in my family knew what was going on. When they woke up they would have no idea what happened to me. I could be alive or dead, but I would certainly be gone.

I walked to the closest room and woke up my 15-year-old daughter Radha. I explained the situation to her as quickly and as succinctly as I could and asked her to wait out front for the ambulance. The operator said she had to go and I asked her to please stay with me. At that point, she softened her attitude and became a little more sympathetic. Then I saw the flashing blue and red lights reflected against our big wooden fence. It took them about seven minutes. Footsteps soon followed. I had to surrender to the experience.

Three paramedics conferenced around me on the porch. A muscular white bald man in his thirties, who seemed to have shaved his head out of some kind of masculine statement; an upper middle-aged tough-looking woman with spiked hair; and a younger guy, probably in his early twenties, who kept saying he didn’t have enough sleep, all said hello and started hooking me up to a myriad of wires. As they did this, they also walked back and forth bringing various pieces of equipment and machines. "Team Rescue" had arrived.

First they took my blood pressure. It was high; about 190 over 121. My pulse was about 200 beats per minute. "Hello!" I thought. Next, they gave me oxygen and started asking all kinds of annoying questions. I knew that paramedic’s training only went so far and thus wanted to proceed to the hospital. Their job, I thought, was to get me there in one piece as quickly as possible and perform any emergency procedures necessary, if need be, God forbid.

They hooked me up to a portable EKG machine. "Now we’re talking," I said. Soon after they turned the machine on, however, it broke. "We’re having a little problem Mr. Allard, just stay patient." They went out to get another machine but it would not turn on. Uncharged battery. Then they decided to draw my blood. The young guy looked for an appropriate vein and kept announcing that he was hungry and if there was any place still open where they could get something to eat. "You can look through my refrigerator, if you want," I said half-sarcastically and half-seriously. I just wanted this character away from me. "Let’s give the hulky woman a try," I thought.

"You’re blood pressure is very high," said the tough-looking guy. "Okay, Rambo," I thought. "Get me to the f-ing hospital then." "There’s only so much we can do out here," said Rambo in his best John Wayne voice. "We’re going to put you on the stretcher and take you to the hospital." "Fine," I answered. "But I’d like to walk into the ambulance, thank you." "Okay, but be careful."

I was still very dizzy but I wanted to walk in case the hungry man accidently tipped me over if his stomach started to growl or something. Besides, I was feeling nauseous and didn’t want to lie down on the thin mattress and be tottered across my driveway.

On the way there I asked Rambo several questions about what I could be experiencing. He didn’t have much in the way of answers. He tried to hook up an I.V. but wasn’t having much success either. When we arrived at the emergency door, I asked if I could walk in. "You could but we might get in trouble." "Okay, we wouldn’t want that," I answered and resigned myself to lying down on the plank.

It turned out, after the results for a battery of test came in, that I had low cholesterol and no blockages to my heart. I had experienced an episode of arrhythmia and was told to stay off of caffeine. I took my health seriously for a month or so but then slacked off a little.

Lately, I've been doing better but have a long way to go. I'm exercising regularly, eating light at night and trying to be careful about what I put into my body. I want to live a long, healthy and productive life, as much as is in my power. I want to have energy and look good as well. I have to take care of the body because it is a temple of the Supreme.

I feel I'm on the right track now. I don't expect to have all good days. I have bad days but then I refocus. But the majority of days has to be good. I never want to go back to that image posted in this blog of me in the hospital bed. It's embarrassing to post, as are all pictures when I'm overweight. But if I don't face the truth of the matter, I will never get over the failure.

I'm going to try to post a weekly blog about my progress with the battle of the bulge and my health in general. I'll let you know when it begins, if anyone is at all interested.