Love is…

Love is the most simple thing in the world. It is also the most complex thing in the world. It defies definition. Maybe that is why I occasionally do posts that try to shed some light on it. So now, with only half a cup of coffee inside me, and with no plan at all as to where this post is going to lead us, I am going to sit at this keyboard, let the crack squirrels run free and see where they take us. Maybe the crack squirrels know something about love that I don’t…

To a poet, love is a challenge. Every great poet in history has attempted to tackle the subject of love. Every combination of words has been used. The poet seeks to describe the indescribable in a way that will move the human soul.

To a writer, love is a tool, perhaps the most versatile and useful tool in his tool box. It is the spine that props a story up, the reason that things happen, the motivation for both good and evil. Love makes people do stuff. My favorite example in literature is that of Sam Gamgee and his love for Frodo Baggins, as they go on the quest to destroy the One Ring in the Lord Of The Rings trilogy. If there was ever a better example of selfless, determined love… that didn’t involve sex… please let me know. I would like to read about it.

To a song writer… and I happen to be a writer of tender love songs, which you would know if you ever clicked on that button up there in my top bar called: My original song videos… love is, to use an inelegant phrase, a powerful weapon. How many great songs have been written about love? We try to capture emotion in music and words. But this leads to some strange situations. It always amuses me when teen pop idols write songs about love. I mean, really, kid, what the hell do you know about love yet? So many of the rock and roll songs from my youth fall into that: oh yeah, baby, I want to give it to you all night long category. And funnier still is the fact that many of these rock and roll bands ended up being famous for their collection of groupies who would pretty much do whatever the boys in the band wanted them to do. The fact of the matter is that many tender love ballads were used as bait to lure in more women, which sort of cheapens the whole idea of both love and the music industry, which I realize is a very cynical way of looking at it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. And don’t me get me started on the rap/hip hop culture, which used to portray love as something that ‘bitches an hos’ better damn well be willing to provide. Ironically, many of the best songs about love were written and/or performed by people who rarely had lasting relationships. I don’t know if this is a facet of the emotional stability of the artistic type, or a commentary on what fame can do to a person. Okay, the squirrels seem to have gone off on a tangent, but they tend to do that. I’m not sure if it is because of the crack or just because that is they way of squirrels, always rushing off to find the next nut.

To young people, love is a mysterious force that just takes over their lives all of a sudden. They go from the warm, safe, easy love of their parents and their pet hamster to being in the center of a hurricane of swirling emotions and hormones and it all feels like the beginning and end of everything, and you try to tell them that the person who is the light of their life or cause of their deep despair will someday be a vague memory, but do kids ever listen? No, they do not.

To older people, love can still burn fiercely, but it is more often a comfortable thing, like a well-worn pair of soft sneakers.

To scientists and anthropologists, love is mere mixing of chemicals secreted by our brains in order to provide a stimulus to continue the reproduction of the human species. Ironically or not, I bet some of these same scientists and anthropologists have had some pretty steamy romances amongst the test tubes and stacks of old, dusty books.

To a historian… and I pride myself on being an amateur historian, by the way… love is an unceasing backdrop to all of the past of the human race. Wars have been fought over it, if the tale of Helen of Troy is to be believed, and much that is both good and bad has stemmed from the vagaries of the human heart.

To a statistician, a climatologist, a farmer, an ecologist… heck, I guess it would be quicker to say that to all of us now living… love is what makes babies… yes, I realize that is an oversimplification… and that is what causes us to number in the billions and puts strain on our food and air supply and leads to so many other problems.

Love is born, it grows, and it can die. Love is almost a living thing. It is easy to say… and I think I may have said this in another post I did on the subject of love… that love is just a programmed instinct inside all mammals, a natural reaction in our brains that makes us seek others of our kind for warmth and comfort and safety and to continue the onward flow of our genes.

It might not be a perfect system, but I can’t imagine one that works more efficiently… or there wouldn’t be billions of people on this planet, would there?

Okay, there you go. I doubt we learned anything new from this… well, that’s not true, I learned that I am glad to have the crack squirrels back at work after their strike where they tried to get you to read that post about the history of the Mideast they did, and now that I mention that, I think maybe the squirrels are still mad that too few people read that post, and I told them it might be that it was because that post was so long, so now the squirrels are trying to make a point by doing another long post to see if people will read about love faster than they read about history, but that would be a cynical thing to think… I was sort of hoping this post would end up being tender and moving and soulful and a little less rambling, but that ain’t the way the crack squirrels work, because, like love, they are a mystery… and I do love my crack squirrels.

My head would be so empty without them.

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This post isn’t supposed to make you sad… but it might…

I was driving my younger daughter, Mollie, somewhere the other day, and I glanced over at her, and it suddenly hit me… I only know two people on this whole planet that I am actually related to by blood.

The thing is… and this isn’t really a bad thing… it is an awesome thing… but I am adopted. I have an awesome family, and there are hundreds of us out there. I wouldn’t change a thing about my family. But when you get right down to the genetics of it, I am a member of this family by law, not blood.

That isn’t a bad thing. But it is a little weird to know that there is another entire family of people out there that share the same blood as me, and I don’t know any of them.

I wonder if anybody in that other family is as strange as I am. Do they write music, play instruments, do any kind of art? Are we all tall, or am I unusual in that way? I mean, obviously we must be an attractive family… just look at me, for gosh sakes… but man… we might be the biggest bunch of freaks there ever were.

And it makes me a little sad to know that my daughters might have grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins floating around out there that might never meet. And it makes me wonder if maybe I… or my daughters… might look like some of those people we will never know.

It is also possible that family has completely died out… that we are the last members to survive. That is a little disconcerting. But it gives me a whole new reason to cherish my oh-so-beautiful girls.

 

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Humans-1… crack squirrels-0…

I have been in negotiations with the crack squirrels that live inside my head…

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They have decided that they will give up on their strike and get back to work coming up with crazy ideas for me to blog about… but they aren’t really happy…

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Yes, they were being a little overly melodramatic, but they thought that post they wrote about the troubles in the Gaza Strip and how they came about was important. And they really worked hard on that post.

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They admit that they were just being stubborn.

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They are now hard at work once more.

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Some of them have taken the news that the post in question is going to just fade into obscurity harder than others.

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I am pretty sure mixing alcohol with crack is not a good idea, but who am I to judge? One tragic bit of news stemming from the lack of readership on that post is that the squirrel who did most of the research… the one who stayed up for a week… (well, he was probably going to do that anyway, he is a crack squirrel after all)… studying the history of the Jewish people and the Mideast, horrified by how cruel humans are to one another… a very nice little squirrel I call Twitchy… well, there is no nice way to say this… he hung himself…

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Unfortunately, he didn’t bother to do any research at all on exactly how to go about hanging yourself, and the results were tragic… and a little nuts…

***(Okay, I apologize profusely for that, I found that picture on Google when I was looking at squirrel pictures, and I had to fit it into the post somehow, because, wow, that squirrel is having a bad day, and the poor animal control officer who got that call probably didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I decided to go with the laughing bit, but seriously, next time you are feeling sorry for yourself, think about the squirrel that ended up hanging by his nuts, and I guarantee you will feel a little better)***

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So anyway, the squirrels apologize for their antics, and we can now resume… whatever the hell it is we do around here.

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Well maybe you think I just made up the whole thing about crack squirrels…

Crack squirrels are a real problem in America. I have done posts about this scourge to our safety and way of life… in fact, if you have a few minutes, you should type the words: ‘crack squirrel’ in that search thingy up there, the one that shows up when you click on the magnifying glass. Go ahead… there isn’t anything else going on here while the crack squirrels are on strike… you might be surprised by what you find.

Crack squirrels exist because drug dealers exist. And drug dealers have found that parks are a good place to sell drugs. They have also figured out that if they hide their drug packages some place near by, the cops don’t have any evidence of their crime. So they often hide them in hollow places in trees… which is where squirrels look for food… so you can see how this problem developed.

But, being who I am, with my magical ability to get myself into situations that nobody else even thinks of, I somehow managed to come down with a case of CSCIS… that’s right, I suffer from crack squirrel cranial infestation syndrome…

Hey, I don’t know how they ended up in there… I wasn’t buying crack… but I have been to a few parks in my time because I have kids. My personal theory is that they snuck in there when I was asleep… you know… because of the extra unused space… but whatever.

The thing is… (Hey, I got my ‘thing’ back!!!)… that I have come to rely on the squirrels to do most of the crazy ideas on this blog…

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Because, honestly, crack squirrels get a lot done in a day. No, all their ideas are not brilliant. But they have a lot of them. So I sort of let them run the show.

Now they are upset because they worked really hard on that post about the history of the Gaza Strip, Mideast, and the Jewish People. I am not taking sides. But would it really kill you to read it? They can be stubborn little beasts when they set their mind to something.

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I leave it up to you. I can understand you not wanting to be forced to read over a thousand words, no matter how charming and clever and funny and well-written it is. Nobody wants to be told what to do… that might be part of the problem in Gaza… an unwillingness to take the easy way out for fear you will look like you are giving in.

a 1 a 3But seriously… does that guy look like he is backing down anytime soon?

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Stupid crack squirrels…

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I thought the crack squirrels were just trying to be funny when the did those wordless posts to give more of you time to read that post they did about the history of the Jewish people and the troubles in the Gaza Strip. But it turns out that they are really upset. I have been told by their spokesman… spokessquirrel… a cute little guy that I call Lazy Eye Pete, that they worked very hard on that post. And it wasn’t fun for them at all. Human history is even more confusing and illogical to crack squirrels than it is to us humans.

I am in an awkward situation here. I don’t think we should give in to their demands. It sets a bad precedent. And I know how hard it must be for most people to read a thousand or more words on a subject that is both boring and full of human cruelty and stupidity… even though I do think the squirrels did a really good job of making it educational while still making it pretty damn funny.

On the other hand… see, I didn’t even call it a ‘thing’… it’s like I can’t even do this blogging thing without the squirrels helping me… they are the ones who come up with all the crazy ideas that make this blog what it is. Now they are just lying around inside my head like a bunch of squirrel skin rugs. And they still haven’t decided exactly how many more humans have to read the damn post before they will go back to work.

But, if you are one of the millions of people who haven’t read that post, good for you. Don’t let crack squirrels push you around. I did… and look where it has gotten me…

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Uh oh…

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The crack squirrels have finally gone nuts… uh… so to speak…

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