Spirit Guide

“Well, Lamont, before we wind this up, what are you and your friend, Dude, doing these days?”

“Dude got a weekend job at the La Brea Tarpits as a — you’ll never believe this — a Smilodon, that is, Saber Toothed Cat. It’s totally unbelievable, and I mean that literally. Little kids come up to him and pet him, and touch his fangs, and get their pictures taken with him. It’s Disney as hell. Dude says wearing that costume is like being in a furnace.”

“Wasn’t Dude once a Saber Toothed Cat?”

“He was.”

“So, if he knows how they act, shouldn’t he try to be, you know, authentic?”

“I don’t think that would go over very well with the kiddies. Too much blood. Saber toothed cats, you know. Besides, he IS authentic; authentic Dude. Dude’s a super friendly guy, always falling in love, thinks children are cute. I like him in spite of all that, but…”

“What do you two do in your free time? I know your lecturing keeps you on the road a lot, but other than wearing a Smilodon quadsuit, I mean, that can’t be a full-time job for Dude.”

“You’d be surprised. Dude works a lot, plus it’s a hell of a commute up the 405 every weekend.  And he surfs every day he’s not working, and he shapes boards parttime. We share payments on a house down in San Diego, on the boardwalk between Mission and PB, you know. Dude loves it. Lots of girls. Decent sets. Sometimes we head down to Sunset Cliffs.”

“Do you surf, too?”

“Yeah, but I’m not as deep into as Dude. Between us, and however many viewers are up watching this show at godawful o’clock in the still-dark am hours, I think he feels most like a Smilodon when he’s surfing.”

“Cats in the ocean?”

“It’s not about being a cat, Tom. It’s the spirit of the thing. You asked me earlier what my favorite incarnation was, well, Dude’s was probably the time he was a Smilodon.”

“Were you there for that?”

“Was I there? I was DINNER.”

“Where was that?”

“Up in what’s now LA, oddly enough, the La Brea Tarpits. Those were great times in a lot of ways. I liked the Ice Age. It was a long period, and I got to come around a couple of times. I had my first human iteration back then. Didn’t last long. Lots of really big animals — like myself. I was a Wooly Mammoth.”

“And Dude ATE you?”

“He had help. A pack of Dire Wolves and a couple of Smilodon ‘buddies’ though they — you know — cats aren’t really buddies. And, the tar pits. Nasty. Water on top, leaves, debris. Looks like a pond. It’s pretty easy for an unwary six ton animal to find himself in trouble — and those wolves were smart. They knew how to drive us in there. It was awful, no way around it. But that’s nature. Kill or be killed.”

“Does it have to be that way, though?”

“Seriously, Trish? Yes, it has to be that way. It’s not a bad thing. It’s not a good thing. It’s just how it is.”

“You could seriously kill someone, is that what you’re saying?”

“I don’t want to, not in this iteration, but you know, when Dude was a salmon and I was a hungry bear, sure, yeah.”

“We’re about out of time, Lamont. Do you have any words of wisdom or a message for our audience?”

“Not really, well, maybe this. Whoever or whatever you are today you were something else once and you’ll be something else again. Everything and everyone around you could’ve been you. Think about that.”

“Thanks, Lamont, for being on our show! I’m sure you’ve given our viewers, uh, food for thought. Be sure to catch Lamont’s podcasts and look for his TED talks!”



Part One is Here

Part Two is Here

Part Three is Here


Lamont and his pal, Dude, are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe, and everything.


Food Not Food

“Sacreligious? How in the world… How is cannibalism ‘religious’?”

“That’s the heart of the question — no pun intended there, Trish. But you don’t want to discuss religion on your show, and I sure don’t blame you. Besides, we can’t bring a Druid chieftain on to explain the nature of their rites. Lets just say that human sacrifice has played a role in the big mono three, whether we like it or not.”

“Big mono three? Tom, do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“I’m going to change the subject here, Trish. I’m a little suspicious of the direction this is taking.”

“Thanks, Tom. I don’t think anyone wants to go where THIS is going.”

“Nor do I, Lamont. So your favorite iteration was an oak tree. Why was that?”

“Simple, Tom. When you’re an oak tree, you’re connected to every other oak tree for miles around. AND it’s likely you’re all brothers and sisters. The conversations are excellent. Overall, it’s a calm life with great company.”


“Sure. All oak trees are thoughtful observers of their immediate surroundings and they share their observations freely, factually, but sometimes with a small injection of humor.”

“You want me to believe oak trees are funny?”

“To other oak trees. You might not get the jokes. They tend to be dry and a little on the dark side.”

“Now you’re saying oak trees have a DARK sense of humor?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not a done deal by any means that when you fall from your mom, a tiny acorn, that into a mighty oak you will grow. There are a lot of factors over which you have no control. If you get there — big old oak tree status — you’ve seen a lot and you’ve survived. That’s not to say you will CONTINUE to survive. If you think about those Druid rituals, they often involved fire. As the saying goes, we always hurt the ones we love. I regard the perspective of the oak tree as one of wry compassion.”

“Wry compassion?”

“It’s not like we could run away, right? And those Druids? Druids do what Druids do. That’s how my time as an oak tree was cut short. It’s not just human sacrifice, sweet cheeks, though, in my times as a human being, I’ve come to understand humans’ species-centric view. It’s difficult to escape when you are human.”

“I understand you have a friend you’ve known through many of these past incarnations.”


“Does he remember as much as you do? Do you remember the same things? ”

“We often talk about our shared incarnations but, of course, we don’t remember everything, and we weren’t always together. One problem is that one animal is often food for another. Dude loves to talk about the time I was a woolly mammoth and he was a saber toothed tiger. I try not to bring up his short tenure as a salmon.”

“And you were???”

“A bear.”

To be continued…

Part One is Here

Part Two is Here


Lamont and his pal, Dude, are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe, and everything.


Happy Valentine’s Day!!

The Crocus Soliloquy

Down in my solitude under the snow,
Where nothing cheering can reach me;
Here, without light to see how to grow,
I’ll trust to nature to teach me.

I will not despair–nor be idle, nor frown,
Locked in so gloomy a dwelling;
My leaves shall run up, and my roots shall run down,
While the bud in my bosom is swelling.

Soon as the frost will get out of my bed,
From this cold dungeon to free me,
I will peer up with my little bright head,
And all will be joyful to see me.

Then from my heart will young petals diverge,
As rays of the sun from their focus;
I from the darkness of earth shall emerge,
A happy and beautiful Crocus!

Many, perhaps, from so simple a flower,
This little lesson may borrow,
Patient today, through its gloomiest hour,
We come out the brighter tomorrow.

Hannah Gould

Hannah Gould is not a famous American poet, BUT she was commonly published in Godey’s Lady’s Book and I found this poem here and was very happy to see Mrs. Gould again! I remember her well from my thesis writing days when I was reading issues of Godey’s Lady’s Book cover to cover. Mrs. Gould was one of editor Sarah Hale’s favorite poets, I think. Her work appeared a LOT and, as I recall, she was less given to post-mortem lamentations than were many of her contemporaries.

Anyway, the crocus are blooming in my garden and that’s a lovely thing.


Lamont Discourses on Feathers

“Today we’re excited to welcome Mr. Lamont. You might have heard his controversial podcast lectures and TED talks discussing reincarnation. Mr. Lamont, welcome to Mornings with Tom and Trish! I have to say, I didn’t know that you are STILL a velociraptor.”

“Thank you, Trish. Yeah, still a velociraptor, still an oak tree, still a salmon, grrrr, still a lot of things. It’s a costume, sweet cheeks.”

“So our picture up there, we pretty much got it wrong?”

“Basically accurate, Tom, but you know, what do you have to go by? Just a lot of funny rocks, right?”

“Yeah. But science…”

“Science is good. Better than non-science, that’s for sure.”

“So the feathers. I see you have feathers?”

“I told you, this is a costume. Velociraptors are extinct.”

“Right, but you’d know, right?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m not here to alter the course of scientific inquiry by giving out secrets of the late Cretaceous and, anyway, why should you believe me? Maybe I’m just a guy in a velociraptor costume making claims that you can’t prove or disprove, you know, like the existence of God?”

“Whoa, we have a strict rule that we do not discuss religion or politics on our show. We believe our viewers need a break from…”

“Real life?”

“What was your favorite incarnation, Mr. Lamont?”

“Just ‘Lamont’. I haven’t always been the male of the species, or even an animal, and sometimes I’ve been a single cell organism and you know how THEY reproduce, and for a while I was a flatworm, and, all that being the case, I just go with my name.”

“OK. So, what was your favorite?”

“Once I was an oak tree in an ancient British forest, worshipped by Druids.”

“Did you see a lot of human sacrifices?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about religion?”

“How is that religion?”

“It was the Druidic religion. You know, what amazes me is that’s always the first question, whether in my, sigh, iteration as an oak tree, I saw human sacrifices. Humans are so morbid. All life is sacrificed on the altar of time. The Druids had reasons of their own.”

“Did they eat, you know, the bodies?”

“Of course they ate the bodies. What do you take them for, sacreligious?”


This is part two in a series to be continued tomorrow, inschallah.

Part One is Here.


Lamont and his pal, Dude, are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe, and everything.


Coming to a Cable Network Near You

“Here we are again at Monday.”


“Monday, again.”

“I can’t imagine you’re surprised by that.”

“Don’t you ever feel like a machine or something?”

“Often. But humans conjured up a system that more or less works, so I show up because, thanks be to God, I work, too.”

“Ha ha. So what’s going on today?”

“You’re interviewing that reincarnation guy to see if he’s believable enough to put on TV.”

“In this climate, sweet cheeks, anything is believable enough. Looks who’s in the White House.”

“I was trying not to think of that until Tuesday. Monday’s enough all by itself. Anyway, the reincarnation guy should be here any minute.”

“You’ve seen him. What do you think?”

“Personally, I think he’s legit. I can’t explain how that could be, but it’s logical that our molecules become part of the universe — earth in particular — when we die. Why shouldn’t the energy that is our experience be stored in those molecules?”

“Is THAT what reincarnation means? No Karma? No nearing Nirvana? Nothing spiritual? That’s pretty dry. Is that his schtick?”

“Yeah. Well you asked.”

“Did you make us coffee?”

“Did make YOU coffee? What do you think; this is the seventies?”

“Never mind.”

To Be Continued…


Lamont and his pal, Dude, are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe, and everything.




This is beautiful. It’s just like life. ❤ Thank you, Dangerspouse


This is the story of the “The Joke”,  the longest joke I ever undertook. In fact, The Joke would still be going on if my intended target hadn’t come down with some sort of ridiculous cancer and died. I swear, the inconsideration of some people.

If you scroll down through my entries, all the way down, down past the owl penis entry…the pussy hat entry….the pussy entry…the elbow surgery…the other elbow surgery…the flute confession…the “Fuck You Scalia” eulogy…

Ah, screw it. Just click this.

That was my very first Dangerspouse entry on WordPress.

But it wasn’t written by me. And that’s not a picture of me (most days). It was written and posted by Poolagirl.

Poolagirl first accosted me on my original Diaryland blog, back in the days when blogging was actually cool (ie: before MySpace/Facebook). I was boppin’ along posting my usual crap when all of the…

View original post 3,177 more words

2 + 2

Rat IThe House Might Eat Tommy’s Ice Cream

Got THAT out of the way. I’m not at all interested in mnemonics, frankly. But I do know one and there it is. 🙂


In OTHER news it snowed last night. Here’s a photo of Bear in the snow. One of my friends pointed out the shadow, calling it Bear’s “Inner Wolf.” ❤



Sticky Notes

“Good luck with that!” Tiffany softly giggled to herself.

“I’m serious. I insist you clean up your room.”

“Mom. I’m 38. You don’t have that kind of leverage any more.”

“You’re living in MY house under MY roof. You’ll do as I say.”

“Yeah, but mom, I took over the payments six years ago. It’s really MY house and yeah. I have to go to work.”

“Tiffany! I’m your mother! Come back here! Listen to me when I’m talking to you!”

Tiffany was relieved to hear the front door open and close followed by footsteps in the hall. “Thank goodness,” she thought.

“Hi Mrs. Baumgarten.”

“Who are you?”

“Jenny? Your nurse? Remember? I come every day, Mrs. Baumgarten. Have you had your breakfast yet?”

Tiffany’s mother shook her head and looked around Tiffany’s room in confusion. It wasn’t messy. It was as neat as a pin. She shrugged and followed Jenny to the kitchen.

“Jenny, can we have a word?” Tiffany passing the kitchen on her way out.


“She just had an episode.”

“I thought she might have. She gets that lost look in her eyes afterwards, sort of ‘What was that?'”

“If you need me I’m only a text away.”

“We’re going to sit down after breakfast and write sticky notes to ourself to help us with the day.”

“I love that. I come home and see everything mom did while I was gone.”

“It keeps her on track. Don’t worry, Tiffany. Have a good day.”

“You too, Jenny, and thank you.”

“No worries. Remember, you pay me!” Jenny smiled and gave Tiffany a quick hug.

“Yeah, I know, but…”

“I know.”

“Bye mom!”

“Bye honey! Have a good day!”


iPhoney iPhitness — Amused Rant

My neighbor showed me how my iPhone comes with an app that tracks my “steps” during a day and tells me how I’m doing with my fitness and health goals. I will refer to this app as ❤ . Since my primary health goal is a functioning left hip, I’m not expecting ❤ to provide a LOT of help, but I was curious. I set it up.

I took a walk with the dogs, a distance I KNOW. I set up two other distance trackers with which to check the little ❤ app on my phone.

None of them agreed. One said I’d gone .94 miles and burned 127 calories. Another said I’d gone 1.08 miles and burned 150 calories. One said I’d gone 1.08 miles and burned 93 calories. Since ONE of them actually makes it possible to set up a “dog walk” rather than just a “walk” I kind of sort of trusted it most, but I think I walked a mile and burned off 100 calories. Not much, but when you have a bum hip that’s a marathon.

You see, I took physics in high school (and liked it), and I understand that fuel is burned by carrying mass over distance. It doesn’t matter at all how fast you carry it. That is also the definition of work. 1 mile walking (strolling, skipping, sauntering) = 100 calories just as 1 mile running. The thing about running is you get the “work” done faster. I’d like to run, but I can’t.

This afternoon, suspecting the little ❤ app thing was tied to GPS, I took it for a ride on my Airdyne. According to ❤ , my 12 miles in 50 minutes (not a bad time, not a great time) amounted to .85 miles and 2,140 steps. And, while the Airdyne sits loyally in my spare bedroom, it thinks it goes places. Its big wheel “believes” it’s going somewhere every time I ride, and it kindly tracks the “distance traveled” on its little, battery-powered computer.

Interesting experience. Since the best exercise for me right now is the bike to nowhere, the phone is out of a job. I can see how it’s great for people who CAN walk and walk and walk AND who carry their phone everywhere, but my walking is pretty much limited to a mile or two right now, and I don’t need more assaults to my self-esteem.

Beyond one’s steps, the ❤ tracks nutrition, sleep and “Mindfulness.” How in the world does a phone track one’s “Mindfulness”? And, no offense meant by the soon-to-be-uttered offensive remark, the whole idea of Mindfulness makes my teeth itch. On my phone is a nasty little video explaining “Mindfulness” in a computerized voice with a British accent, telling me to “take some time, be in the moment” and then instructing me HOW to be mindful. Then it wants me to record my “mindful minutes.” If the paradox there isn’t obvious then the fact that I’m a short overweight 66 year old lady with white hair and a limp is probably not obvious either.