Meditations On The Weed

Pot-heads, you can stop reading now.

The weed in question is not the one that makes you happy.

It's the one that gets gardeners and farmers mad.

The one that keeps them on their toes.

And laughs in the face of Ortho, Round-up, Bronco, Rodeo and Weed-off.

Out Persnickety Weed!

Don't you sometimes wonder -

We struggle to keep precious animals like the giant panda, the gazelle, the African rhinoceros and the Indian tiger from becoming extinct.

Yet weeds, household pests, crop pests, bacteria and viruses continue to flourish.

In spite of our burning desire to wipe them off the face of the earth.

And all the technology and laboratory chemistry we bring to bear.

Is there a lesson here?

An Aha Moment, Or What?

Maybe our inspiration to achieve our dreams, or keep going when times get tough...

Should come...

Not from the fragile flowers which bloom for a while, and then fade.

All the while, needing the perfect blend of water, sun and soil.

But from the weeds that...

Against all odds...

...thrive and survive.

Here then are the lessons to be learned from the never-say-die weed.

Fear not the enemy's might 

Or did David get inspired by the weed when he went up against Goliath?

Every year, it's the same story in gardens and farmland across the world.

A huge amount of ammunition is deployed to banish weeds .

Weed wackers and weed killers of every kind.

Each new invention with more vanquishing power than the last.

But, as faithful as the sunrise, the weeds come up again.

They fear not the enemy's might.

And know they can overtake anything and everything.

David and Goliath

Which makes you wonder - 

Did David get inspired by the weed when he decided to take on Goliath?

Who would go up against a barbaric 9 foot giant with just a catapult (English for lance-pierres)?

You can read the story of David's great leap of faith, here.

And then you can meditate on the humble weed.

I'm just saying.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again

Or did Colonel Sanders get inspired by the weed?

You've probably heard the saying - "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."

It was written by an 18th century American educator.

By the name of Thomas Palmer.

Thomas Palmer wrote this line in a book he called Teacher's Manual.

You can take a peek at Teacher's Manual on Google books here.

Col. Sanders and Kentucky Fried Chicken 

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Is this what Colonel Sanders, founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken, repeated to himself?

As he went from restaurant to restaurant to find a taker for his fried chicken idea.

He didn't have any luck until he met the 1009th restaurateur.

What kept him going?

How could you possibly emulate that kind of persistence?

Do you wake up every day with amnesia like the girl in the Adam Sandler movie 50 First Dates?

Amnesia would be helpful!

Or do you pluck a weed from your garden and say - "Hmmm....I'm not going to give up just yet.  I am going to persist like this weed...

...look how unfailingly it comes up. In spite of everything!

I wonder whether Col. Sanders..."

I'm just saying.

Everything You Need To Succeed Is Inside Of You

Or did Mahatma Gandhi get inspired by the weed?

Do you know the story of how India won its independence from the British Raj?

It was due in no small measure to a man called Gandhi.

Dressed in nothing but a loin-cloth, and armed with only the novel idea of peaceful non-cooperation, Gandhi led his countrymen and country women in peaceful marches and peaceful boycotts against British rule.

Until they capitulated in 1947.

Walk In Gandhi's Footsteps

Gandhi has been a role model and inspiration to those who seek justice or freedom ever since.

Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela, among others.

The personal lesson we can take from Gandhi, (which by the way is breath-takingly captured in the 1982 Richard Attenborough Oscar-sweeping film of the same title) is this...

...we have everything we need to succeed within ourselves.

We just have to look for it.

Which brings me back to the weed. And how nothing will stop it.

Not absence of sunshine. Lack of water. Poor soil conditions. Or inhospitable temperatures.

It contains everything it needs for its victory within itself.

So if you want to channel Gandhi, or Col. Sanders or King David...

...is the way to do it to meditate on the humble, hardy weed?

I'm just saying.

P.S.  I know this post is off the beaten path.  I sometimes like to go there.  It helps me focus on the timeless and the universal.  So thanks for reading. If you want to find out what the World Wildlife Fund is doing to preserve the animals and birds at risk of becoming extinct, you can do so here.  You may also be interested in seeing what the Wildlife Conservation Trust is doing in India.  The Wildlife Conservation Trust is an Indian NGO and you can link to their website, which has beautiful pics of Indian wildlife sanctuaries, here.

On The Importance Of Language Arts

By John Paraskevopoulos
Senior, Santa Teresa High

           Some things are magical. I think language is one of them. That a thought that has never been thought before; a thought of entirely unique origin, a thought originating from the cells of a person’s brain, composed of molecules which will never again be arranged together in such an order and formation; a thought generated in the consciousness of someone with a unique genetic code and personal history; even if the idea has been had before, that that thought, a unique occurrence in all of time and space, can be transplanted directly via words into my own consciousness, is nothing short of spectacular.
            Language creates a unity of consciousness between people. It allows direct communication of thoughts and feelings between two otherwise isolated minds. Certain emotions can be communicated otherwise, perhaps by body language, a twinkle of the eyes, but those are approximations. Language allows for precise transcription. Language allows one person to say to another, or millions, or billions, if in the format of published material, “This is what exactly passed through my mind. Here it is in its original format so you may understand precisely what I was thinking.”
            This unity of minds creates unity of people, and peace. Misunderstanding creates conflict. We see that in the world every day. Language allows for understanding, and subsequent peace. Knowledge is power, but the majority of our knowledge cannot be understood or communicated without language.
            Naturally, then, exact control of some language would be desirable, in order to perceive the thoughts of others and to verbalize one’s own. Here, however, we run into a problem. I meet high-school students who complain of having to take four years of English. This is a result of a failure of our educational institutions to teach on a wide scale, or a massive cultural failure to emphasize one of the most influential aspects of living. Most likely it is some combination of both.
            Whatever the cause, I worry for the future of some students. I do not mean the AP Literature students who misplace some commas, or all of those people who do not know when to use “that” instead of “which,” but the students who see no value in their English class, or who cannot find any pronoun other than the “n-word” or “bro” (pronounced “brah”). I worry not for selfish reasons, but because I think a person lacking the ability to verbalize his or her thoughts will have a much more difficult time understanding who he or she is and what he or she feels, which could lead to conflict, intrapersonal or interpersonal.
            The fact of the matter is that without a full capacity for language, I doubt there can be a full capacity for thought. Emotions will still be present, as strong as in anyone else; but will that person be able to verbalize and communicate those emotions? Will he or she be able to understand them? English has an incredibly rich vocabulary, perhaps the largest of the living languages. If you do not know the word for what you are feeling, what becomes of the feeling? To quote the AP Psychology book currently used on campus, “The Hopi [Native American tribe] have no past tense for their verbs. Therefore… a Hopi could not so readily think about the past. To expand language is to expand the ability to think. Indeed, it is very difficult to think about or conceptualize certain abstract ideas (commitment, freedom, or rhyming) without language! And what is true for preschoolers is true for everyone: It pays to increase your word power” (Myers, David. Psychology. New York, NY: Worth Publishers, 2007. 418-419).
            The book goes on to discuss how certain other tribes that speak a language with numerous words for differing shades of a specific color better recall the differences between slides of the same color, each with a slightly distinct hue, than native English speakers shown the same slides, and how members of another tribe with only words for “1” and “2” (anything more is “many”) have more difficulty mimicking an instructor place seven nuts in a pile.
            The good news is that we’re all young. Some of the students on campus could be looking to another seven decades on Earth; and if the Psychology book is still trustable, research has shown that memory for things such as vocabulary accumulates for all of a person’s life and does not start declining until her or she is past almost seventy years old. Additionally, if a person speaks a language, that means the lingual portion of the brain has developed, meaning the capacity exists.
             So get started now! Read your textbooks. Read anything you can. Why four years of English class? Language is so closely tied to our ability to think and learn, neglecting it would be unforgivable. Language is a tool that is available to serve you any given moment of your life; and ultimately, greater control of language yields greater control of self.

P.S.  Thank you John for allowing me to publish this as a guest post.  I hope your post will light a fire under your classmates.  And encourage them to read more and write more.  Readers, I find the more I read, the more I am able to write.  It is no coincidence that almost every single post of mine references at least one book, if not more.  For an example of how a book can lead you down an enchanted path, check out my post 'The Acrobat And The Commissions Analyst' . It was inspired by reading a single line in the book Setting Your Heart on Fire by Raphael Cushnir.  Also, I hope you will also follow my lead and write about your life experiences.  There is writing material in each and every experience. Even experiences in which you make an utter fool of yourself. My post How I Lost A Thousand Dollars on Donuts provides an example.

P.S.2 - Below are some books which were referred to in this post or are pertinent to the topic.
 

Move Over Michael Burry

Michael Burry graduated from Santa Teresa High School in San Jose, California.

He went on to med school.

And specialized in neurology.

Then, while he was doing his residency at Stanford Medical Hospital, he quit.

The Neurologist Turned Hedge Fund Manager

Michael set up Scion Capital, LLC, a hedge fund.

He started writing a newsletter.  As a result of the newsletter and the superior returns he was able to generate on his investments, he soon began to attract the attention and business of small and big investors alike.

Joel Greenblatt's company was one of his backers and early investors.

Striking Gold With Credit Default Swaps from Goldman

Burry became famous as one of just a handful of people in the US who predicted the real estate credit bubble would burst.

While investors were falling over themselves to snap up the trashy mortgage backed bonds that Wall Street was packaging and selling to them...

Burry quietly amassed credit default swaps against the worst of those bonds.

And struck gold when the real estate house of cards collapsed.

The Big Short

If you want to know more about this really interesting, really different hedgie who started out as a Santa Teresa High School graduate, you should read  The Big Short.

The Big Short is the latest book by master storyteller Michael Lewis.

It is every bit as exciting a book as Michael Lewis' other books such as the The Blindside (which was made into a movie of the same name), Money Ball and Liar's Poker.

If you are like me and the investing world and its shenanigans captivates you, The Big Short will be nothing short of a thriller for you.

Meanwhile, from Santa Teresa High School, the very same high school that Burry went to...

... comes John Paraskevopoulos, currently a senior at the school.

And my next guest post contributor.

His piece "On The Importance of Language Arts" caught my daughter's eye when she saw it on Facebook.

And when I read it, I immediately saw its potential as a guest post.

So I had my daughter ask John if he wouldn't mind.

To my delight, John said yes.

So on Saturday, look out for  John Paraskevopoulos's views on the importance of language arts.

Hope you enjoy it every bit as much as me and my daughter did.

Till Saturday then.....have a good rest of the week. And do rest those eyes so they are not tired for John's piece.

4 Lessons Learned From Spinning In The Rain

It was 8 a.m. on Martin Luther King Day, 2010.

I was driving to work in pouring rain.

I had gotten past Capitol Expressway exit on Highway 87.

I was in the fast lane.

I was driving at about 55 miles per hour.

Suddenly, a car in front of me began to hydroplane.

Whether from being sleepy because of having worked all weekend on the Q2 true-up commissions for Extreme Networks, my then employer...

....or whether from being preoccupied with the day's tasks ahead...

I did not respond as the good book (The California Driver's Handbook) says.

I was supposed to take my foot off the accelerator.

No Ayrton Senna,  I did just the opposite

I slammed the brakes.

And swerved to the left.

First my car lost traction, slid left and hit the highway divider.

Then, it began to spin.

Honda Civic in 'Whirling Dervish meets Swan Lake'

And spin.

And spin.

And spin.

Like it was in a ballet performance of its own design.

The performance concluded when we were all the way to the other side of the freeway.

When we stopped, my car was on the shoulder of the slowest lane.

Facing oncoming traffic.

Herbie wanted to take his bow.

His last bow with me as it turned out.

Shaken.  Stirred.  And Car-Less

The incident cost me a broken axle.

And enough structural damage to make the car unsafe to drive.

The medics came.

I waved them off  because I was miraculously unhurt.

The cops came.

I cowered in shame in the backseat of the cop car -  while in the front seat, they typed up an unflattering report about my little escapade.

Then the tow truck came.

And before you knew it, I was back home.

Shaken.  Stirred.  And Car-Less.

The Value of Life in 3-D

But amazed.

Amazed that I had not collided with another car in spite of spinning across 4 lanes of the freeway.

Amazed that all I had to show for the spinning was some residual whiplash.

Amazed that I was alive.

I would not recommend spinning in the rain to anybody as an experience.

But it did make the value of being healthy and alive come out in 3D to me.

I know that other people who have been involved in accidents or near accidents report the same feeling of a heightened sense of the value for life.

Who Knew - A Shared Experience With Joel Osteen!

Within less than 6 months of my accident, I found myself reading Your Best Life Now, which, along with Become a Better You, are two of the most positive books I've read in my life.

Both are written by Joel Osteen.

Joel Osteen is the pastor of one of the biggest non-denominational Christian churches in America - Lakewood Church in Houston, Texas.

He broadcasts to over 7 million viewers in 100 countries of the world so you may have heard of him.

The reason I bring the book up is because in one of the chapters in the book, he relates a hydroplaning incident that happened when he was driving on a Texas freeway at the age of 18.

I got gooseflesh from reading about that hydroplaning incident.

Because it was so similar to mine.

You could just interchange the names and it would be my story.

However, Osteen's escape was more miraculous.

Because his car came to a halt just in front of an oncoming 18-wheeler.

Close Shave!

Reading the chapter in Osteen's book brought back for me, the amazement of being alive.

I really do value life much more since the accident than before it.

I also learned some other valuable lessons from being in the accident.

Not immediately after the accident though.

While happy to be alive and unhurt, immediately after the accident, I was smarting from the fact that I was car-less and out of pocket for a substantial amount of money.

When my friend Lakshmi, who happened to call within a couple of hours of the accident, suggested I look on the bright side and be grateful it had happened without any injury to myself  or anyone else - I remember being secretly irritated by her advice.

But you know what. She was right. The value of not having caused harm to any human being, including myself, was priceless.

And I actually did learn some additional lessons as well.

Here they are:

1.  You May Not Be Able To Carry Out Every Intention

I bought the Honda Civic from my sister when she returned to India.

It had 95,000 miles on it.

I planned to drive it until I had put 200,000 miles on the odometer.

At least.

But the accident made the car a write-off at 134,000 miles.

The intention to drive it for 200,000 miles went out the window.

You may not be able to carry out your every intention.

No matter how clever it is.

Or how much money it will save you.

Lesson learned.

2.  You Don't Know That You Don't Know

I was diligent with my car services.

Oil change every 3000 miles.

Up-to-date on minor and major services.

And repair work.

My downfall turned out to be my tires.

I had assumed my oil change facility or my mechanic would tell me if  those needed to be replaced.

But they never did.

In hindsight, two of my tires were probably bald.

And needed to be replaced.

But I didn't know that I didn't know.

And I had to learn it after the fact.

I now do my oil changes at a tire facility.

Lesson learned.  

3. You May Find Out About Errors In Your Thinking The Hard Way

The Civic had 95,000 miles on it plus a few dents and dings.

So I decided to waive Collision and Comprehensive insurance.

I took out just Liability and Bodily Injury insurance on it.

I told myself in the event of an accident, if it was my fault, I'd be covered by my insurance.

If it was the other driver's fault, I'd be covered by their insurance.

But of course I was in a single car accident.

So I was out of pocket for my car.

Where was my thinking wrong?

I was wrong in thinking in terms of the price I paid for the car.

My sister, bless her soul, practically gave the car away to me before she went back to India.

(By the way, she is now the proprietor and manager of  Sundance serviced apartments near UB City Mall in the heart of Bangalore, India, and you can read about Sundance and reviews of Sundance on Trip Advisor here if you plan to visit Bangalore)

Since I had not paid market price for the car, I should have thought in terms of the replacement value of the car.

If I had to buy the same car with the same year, make and model and with 95,000 miles on it in the market, what would it cost me?

That should have determined my insurance coverage.

I had to find out the hard way.

Lesson learned. 

4.  Changes In The Car Buying Process

Luckily, this story ends well.

I bought my first used car back in 1997.

13 years later when I bought my car in 2010 , I was pleased to discover the car buying process was a wholly different ball game.

There were so many more tools in the kit.

And I was able to buy my car with total confidence.

I have written a previous post about this called 5 Steps to Buying a Used Car With Confidence which lists these tools.

If you haven't read it, you can read it here.

And that was my final lesson learned.

P.S. I leave you on the note that no experience is ever a loss. You just have to look for the lessons to be learned. Having said that, do look after your car. And also please don't drink and drive!  Let's keep the roads safe for everyone in 2011!

What Does Ten Thousand Mean To You?

 5 New Understandings...

1. The Number Of Years A Plastic Bottle Will Take to Disintegrate With The Cap On 

I have to thank Dalton Conley's book Elsewhere, U.S.A. : How We Got from the Company Man, Family Dinners, and the Affluent Society to the Home Office, BlackBerry Moms, and Economic Anxiety for this insight.

Conley is an award-winning social commentator, best known for his contributions to understanding how socioeconomic status is transmitted across generations.

He is University Professor of the Social Sciences and the Chair of the Department of Sociology at New York University.

He is also an Adjunct Professor of Community Medicine at Mount Sinai School of Medicine.

And finally, he is a Research Associate at the National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER).

After reading the Wikipedia entry on him, I guarantee you, you will want to read all of Conley's books (I plan to), starting with his first book, Being Black, Living in the Red.

2. A Line from the Bible ...

"But in church I would rather speak five words with my mind to instruct others than 10,000 words in another language"

This line from 1 Corinthians 14 is pretty self-explanatory.

But if you want to understand all the nuances of 1 Corinthians 14-19, or in fact, any other part of the Bible, you should put biblestudytools to work.

On the  biblestudytools website, you can not only compare scripture across different translations of the Bible.

But also read valuable commentary from scholars such as Matthew Henry (my favorite), John Darby & John Gill.

3. Ten Thousand Waves 

This mountain spa resort in Santa Fe, NM describes itself as having the feel of a Japanese onsen. 

So what is an onsen?  

Onsen means 'hot springs' in the Japanese language and it's where you will long to be.

Especially if you look at photographs of Naruko Miyagi onsen in Japan.

You can find one of these photographs in the Wikipedia entry on onsens.

Check it out yourself over here.

And then book your flight to New Mexico or Japan.

Whichever is closer.

3. The first line of "The Bragging Song (The Great Historical Bum)" 

 "I was born about ten thousand years ago.  There ain't nothin in this world I don't know."

These are the opening lines of a well-known Woody Guthrie song. 

You can search for it online and read the entire lyrics, which are hilarious.

Being obviously written in jest, you shouldn't be surprised that it contains some sacrilegious content.

By the way, do you know someone who brags like that? 

Almost like that, if not exactly like that?

You probably do.

4. Ten Thousand Villages

For those who don't know, Ten Thousand Villages is a fair-trade retailer and one of the founding members of the World Fair Trade Organization.  

It was founded to give poor artisans from around the world a fair shake for their work.

When you find out more about Ten Thousand Villages and what they have to offer, you may want to buy some of the things you buy for yourself and for others in your life from them, rather than elsewhere.

Over the last few years, many young soon-to-be-weds have used Ten Thousand Villages for their wedding gift registry.

Including one young couple from my own family. 

You can check out Ten Thousand Villages here.

5. The City of Ten Thousand Buddhas  

And finally, The City of Ten Thousand Buddhas. 

The international Buddhist community in Ukiah that was set up in 1974.

Buddhism always reminds me of two of my dear friends, Anita and Mira.

Anita is an author, a copywriter, a online writing teacher, an artist...

...and a devout Buddhist.

Mira is an author, one-time copywriter, unbeatable Scrabble player...

...and a devout Buddhist.

Gals....this post is for you.

I miss you and think of you even though it's been a while since we've been in touch.

P.S.  Hope you enjoyed this post.  I am sure when you first read  'What Does Ten Thousand Mean To You?", money was the first thing that popped into your head. I should know.  As a Commissions Analyst and Xactly Incent Implementation Architect (as you found out about me from my post My Day Job. Xactly. More or Less),  I live and breathe numbers for most of my waking day.  So this post was aimed at thinking about numbers in new and fresh ways. Even a number as big as 10,000.

So dear reader, I end with the question:  What does 10,000 mean to you? What else can you think of?  C'mon stretch that imagination. May this be the beginnings of a truly inspirational year for you. A year in which you let your imagination lead you to new places and ideas.

No Need for 23andme...

...to know there's poetry in them genes!

23andme for those who don't know is the Bay Area company that does personal DNA profiles.

How it works is as follows:

You send them your spit in the mail. Yes you actually spit into a tube they send you, enclose this in a specimen bag and drop it in your mail-box.

Then when your spit gets to 23andme, they use their marvelous and wonderful technology, a mouthful called single-nucleotide polymorphism (SNP) genotyping to analyze that precious spit bomb and produce a complete DNA profile of you.

Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?

Yes, except that the results may devastate you.

Because you may find out you are not who you think you are when your 23andme DNA ancestry profile hits your e-mail box.

Nookie With A Bandersnatch

I know of a xenophobic Borogove, for example, who found out from his 23andme DNA profile that he was not 100% Borogove after all.

There was a dash (actually, a whole 15% dollop) of  Bandersnatch in  him as well.

He was crushed.

He told me he has not been able to look at the fading barely-there sepia pictures that dot the family tree he so lovingly created on Ancestry.com in the same way ever since.

Now when he casts his eye on the pictures of his Borogove ancestors, he wonders which of those innocent and upright looking people did nookie with a Bandersnatch.

And made of him, this 85% Borogove -15% Bandersnatch hodge-podge.

A Borogove-Bandersnatch.

Of course, there's no need to find out about the ancestral dirty linen, since 23andme offers you a choice of DNA profiles.

The Ancestry profile
The Health profile
The Ancestry plus Health profile

So if you decide you'd rather not know about the antics (English for nakras) of your forbears, it's simple.

Opt for just the health profile.

Or not.

Now I don't know about you, but finding out that I have the markers, mutations and what not for arthritis, diabetes, hypertension, cancer and all those other lovely conditions that keep Pfizer, Merck, Roche and the other pharmaceutical companies in business (not to mention the Health Insurers) is hardly my idea of a good time.

So every time I think about ordering a 23andme DNA profile (usually when I need to spit), I have second thoughts soon after.

Who wants to change their middle name as a result of reading a DNA profile?

Minoo Hypochondria Jha.

Doesn't sound too good.

So while I have this "should I, should I not" thing going with 23andme (which by the way is not for the faint of heart nor for the faint of pocket), I thought I might dwell on some positive family traits and talents which don't require spitting or 23andme's sophisticated technology to confirm.

Writing being one of those traits that sticks out.

The urge to express oneself through the written word can be found in every generation of our family.

It gives me great pleasure to present poetic evidence of this below.

Autumn Reverie 

Autumn Reverie was penned by my mother,who wrote and wrote up until almost her dying day.

(Mumsy Wumsy, I hope you and the angels are reading this in Heaven).

This is the season of monastic calm,
When trees have donned the brown of friar's cape
When evening hush falls swiftly into night
And somber peace envelopes each landscape

And now the breeze has great momentum
And weans away the red, brown, golden leaves
Which falling, carpet all the earth beneath
To burn at length in amber-colored sheaves.

Now is a tang of chillness in the air
Which interjects the warm serenity
Now whistles in the shivering mountain pines
The wind descending from the higher hills.

O soul! This is thy time of reckoning
Of taking into stock thy myriad deeds
Of placing on the scale so cruelly precise
Thy acts of good, thy succumbings to vice.

This is the time of silent self-retreat
For passive, speechless meditation
Ere winter fling on all its supine garb
And vivify our thoughts of hibernation.

Om Tat Sat

This poem, a tribute to Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, was penned by my much loved and looked-up-to second oldest sister Angie, who is a Madison poet and lecturer, and has written poetry and lectured on it both in India and the US.

The poem, originally written to be read to patients in an alternative medicine meditative setting, ultimately found its way into print in Western Medical Journal.

Om Tat Sat

And now at last,

We have toiled from dawn to dawn

To find the answers in medicinal ways,

To find the cures

Through paths of pain

And journey into time's artery

We have wrapped the wounds

And watched them slowly heal,

Re-skin themselves to seal

Gradually

With words and thoughts of comforting

And often dropping to the ground

Like falling fruit

We have picked and preserved

to revive

to turn new leaves

in the serenity and tranquility of grasses yet to come. 

Perfect Girl

And this poem was written by the love of my life and the light in my eye, my little girl. She was 11 when she wrote this.

I know I'm not a perfect girl who's
always sweet and nice.
I know I'm not the best to come to for advice.
I try to please my family and
my friends too.  I try to finish everything I do.
I am what I am and you can't
change that.  So don't tell me I'm skinny
or fat.
Growing up is hard, it changes
everything.  Keep faith in God and be nice to everyone and thing.
They say it's just a phase, which is not easy to go through.
There are so many changes and so much to do.
But then you have that one person that you can tell everything to, and in the end that one person could be a reflection of you.
What can I say?  I'm just a kid growing up fast,
and when it is the future, I'll look back to my past.
I'll remember all the crazy things I did and do...
and I'll realize it's what makes you, you!

P.S.  I hope you enjoyed reading these poems from my family as much as I enjoyed sharing them with you. If you want to uncover your family and health secrets through the innovative technologies of 23andme, you can link to their website here.  If you need to create your family tree on Ancestry.com before you do that, you can link to their website here.  If you like human genome poetry (yes it exists), you can read Gillian K Ferguson's pennings here.

Ferguson has also written poems on the experience of conceiving, carrying and delivering a baby.  The book featured on left contains these poems.

The Amazon product description reads thus: For many women -- and men -- the natural cycle of conception, pregnancy, and birth is the most intense experience they will have in their lives. In Baby, award-winning poet Gillian K. Ferguson draws on her own pregnancy to chart the intense emotions aroused by the "everyday miracle" of creating new life.

Before I end this post, I would like to give a shout out to all the 2011 babies who are on the way. Welcome. We're glad you will be joining us soon. And oh yes, we'll have pen and ink ready for you (or at the very least a cellphone keyboard!)

Bad Case of Wodehouse

I regret to inform you all that I have a bad case of Wodehouse.

I am getting the word out to you since Wodehouse is horribly contagious (rated a 10 on the contagion scale).

So you don't get caught off-guard, here are the symptoms...

Remember, these are just the typical symptoms, the symptoms can vary from patient to patient.

Do you tend to end every sentence with the word "What!"?

As in "Splendid weather,we are having, what!"?

You have the Wodehouse.

Do you feel an irresistible urge to steal a Policeman's Helmet?

You have the Wodehouse.

Do you smile inanely all the time and transpose the words 'Oh Jeeves' for 'Oh Geez' ?

You definitely have the Wodehouse.

How about dreams at night in which you sneer at cow creamers in antique stores?

Or encounter fat, pink pigs with wings (English for Svinhug gar igen)?

Wodehouse and Wodehouse.

If  you are displaying any of the symptoms described, you can't afford to lose a minute.

But must begin painful but necessary antidote therapy immediately.

The best known antidote to Wodehouse is to begin work on your taxes.

Either Form 1040 or Schedule D will work quite well.

You have a few choices in alternative medicine as well.

Listening to your teenager's music, looking at your teeenager's cellphone bill, or perusing your teenager's report card can all be used with success to cure Wodehouse.

Clearly, if you haven't come down with Wodehouse, you don't want to take any risks.

My advice is to steer clear of this blog till at least the coming Sunday.

Resist the temptation to finish this post and on no account should you read the posts Never Let A Pal Down or Splendid Post, What!

Are you still reading?

It means it's too late for you.  You have already come down with Wodehouse.

Well, you are just going to have to let it run its course.

Scratch the itch until you can say pip-pip, ta-ta or toodleoo to it.

Here then are some lines from Wodehouse for all you goners:

"Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to speak French”

‘He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled’.  

“I was sauntering on the river bank with a girl named something that has slipped my mind, when there was a sound of barking and a large hefty dog came galloping up, full of beans and buck and obviously intent on mayhem. And I was just commending my soul to God and feeling that this was where the old flannel trousers got about thirty bobs worth of value bitten out of them, when the girl, waiting till she saw the whites of its eyes, with extraordinary presence of mind opened a colored Japanese umbrella in the animal's face. Upon which it did three back somersaults and retired into private life”

"Marriage isn't a process of prolonging the life of love, but of mummifying the corpse."

"Jeeves lugged my purple socks out of the drawer as if he were a vegetarian fishing a caterpillar out of his salad."

"Say what you will, there is something fine about our old aristocracy. I'll bet Trotsky couldn't hit a moving secretary with an egg on a dark night."

"I have only two things to say to you, Lord Tilbury. One is that you have ruined a man's life. The other is Pip-pip."

P.S.  I can think of only one other occasion when I came down so fearfully as I have now come down with Wodehouse.  It was back in June of 2009 when Michael Jackson died. I came down with a bad case of Michael Jackson following his untimely death.  I think I must have spent the next 3 months watching Michael Jackson performances and Jackson Family performances on You Tube and on television.  When I wasn't doing that, I was reading Wikipedia entries on each and every Jackson family member. This was when I was not reading Wikipedia entries on propofol.  Finally, I said "This Is It" and called a halt to the madness.  Good luck with getting over Wodehouse. You are going to need it! :)

Splendid Post, What!

                            Magical Wodehouse

I was sixteen and looking for some good reading when I strolled into my nearby government library, it being the only library in the neighborhood in what was then a laidback and sleepy Bangalore. The under stocked library kept none of my favourite authors which then included Captain W.E. Johns, Arthur Hailey, Irving Wallace and Nevil Shute.

Idly, I browsed the shelves- surely there would be some good reading around, even in a government library. A mischievous gleam came into my eye……perhaps a new author? A new voyage of discovery ? Who knew what treasures lay hidden in those dusty old shelves?

Five books neatly stocked side by side, caught my eye; all by “P G Wodehouse”.

Aha ……..I told myself. With this many titles, I could be on to a good thing. Shall I take a chance?

I pulled out a book. “Brinkley Manor” read the title (subsequently re-named “Right Ho Jeeves”). It had a catchy illustration and a brief perusal of the back cover told me I was in for “Something Fresh”.

That began a magical odyssey that kept me reading all through my college and early working days.

Wodehouse opened another world for me – a world of chivalry, and of modern day knights in shining armour. A magical world, where all was sunshine, where bees buzzed and birds chirped in the vales of Blandings and other fairytale English castles, under blue skies and cottonwool clouds. A world where “Young Men in Spats” ran off with policemen’s helmets on Boat Race Night (the night of the annual boat race between Oxford and Cambridge, the eternal rivals) and subsequently spent the night in Bosher Street Police Station, sleeping on a cold plank bed, only to be fined ten pounds by the magistrate the next morning accompanied by strong remarks from the bench, such as :

“The prisoner Wooster………”

“No, I say really, that’s a bit thick…..”

“Silence!” says the beak, pounding his gavel, “Ten pounds.”

Of course, Jeeves was there in the courtroom to bail the young master out.

Or if the young “prisoner” has the presence of mind to give a false name and address such as “Edwin Smith of 7, Nasturtium Villas, East Dulwich”, the magistrate after shooting a keen glance at him, says, “In view of the gravity of your offence, Mr. ah…Smith……. I’m inclined to give you fifteen days without the option.”

“No, I say dash it!” says an agitated Pongo (or “Edwin Smith”).

“But,” continues the beak,“Considering your youth, I’m inclined to temper my judgment with leniency.”

“Oh, fine,” says a relieved Pongo.

“Fine is right,” says the beak, “Twenty pounds”, accompanied by much merriment from the gallery.

Wodehouse’s treatment of life in prison was often light hearted, making his books popular among convicts, particularly the inmates of Sing-Sing. On hearing this, Wodehouse remarked in typical irreverent fashion that while he was glad to hear that his books had found favor with convicts, however he would be a much relieved man to learn that normal people also read his books!

In Wodehouse’s magical world, a serious crisis arose when a valuable painting was stolen, or horror of horrors, when The Empress of Blandings, that prize sow who twice won the silver medal in the Fat Pigs class at the Shropshire Agricultural show, goes missing, abducted by machiavellian conspirators (“Pigs Have Wings”).

Of course, alls well that ends well when a Gally (The Hon Galahad Threepwood) finds a solution and not only restores the stolen painting and/or pig to its rightful owners, but also reunites assorted sundered hearts enroute.

In the Wodehousean world, a complicated situation causing despondency and gloom all around is when Bertie finds himself engaged to two desirable girls at the same time, (both of them, in Jeeves’ words, “eminently unsuitable” for him). Bertie lands up in this mess because, being a “Preux Chevalier”, if a damsel re-ignites an old understanding she has with Bertie and announces that she will sacrifice herself and be his, issuing a “Nolle Prosequi” by throwing cold water on the proposal, simply isn’t done, what? And what if two of them say so at the same time? Naturally, Bertie has to accept! The “Code of the Woosters” demands it! Of course, it requires “The Inimitable Jeeves” to extricate the young master from “a wholly undesirable entanglement” (or entanglements in this case).

In Wodehouse’s world, all’s well that always ends well. Every time! There’s never a problem without a solution, never a story without a happy ending.

Wodehouse’s plots were deeply intricate, which belied their apparent simplicity, and brilliantly craft. The good guys always won through, with the bad guys usually coming a cropper in the end.

One of Wodehouse’s favorite quotes is Browning’s:

                                      “The lark’s on the wing,

                                        The snail’s on the thorn,

                                        God’s in His Heaven,

                                        All’s right with the world!”

In Wodehouse’s world, it was always “God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world!” It’s impossible to read Wodehouse without imbibing his sense of optimism and positive outlook on life. References to Guardian Angels abound in Wodehouse, and though they sometimes tarry (or else how will we ever have a plot?) they never fail to deliver in the end.

Wodehouse has created a world of sunshine and romance for us, of “Joy in the Morning”. Ah, yes! Romance! What’s a Wodehouse book without a “Damsel in Distress” and her knight in shining armour? Of course, one or both of them are penniless, and of course their union is opposed by a fearsome aunt- a snobbish Lady Constance Keeble or an imposing Aunt Agatha?( “Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen”).  Or without “A Pelican at Blandings” here and an “Uncle Dynamite” there ? Or a “Piccadilly Jim” and a “Pearls, Girls and Monty Bodkin”?

It’s impossible to read Wodehouse and feel depressed- Tony Baggins recommended “everyone should read a Wodehouse book; it would probably cure all the depression in the world!” In Evelyn Waugh’s immortal words, “Mr. Wodehouse’s idyllic world can never stale. He will continue to release future generations from a captivity that may be more irksome than our own. He has created a world for us to live in and delight in

(These words graced the back covers of Penguin editions of Wodehouse’s books).

Wodehouse’s irreverent attitude often extended to his description of himself. One can well imagine the following conversation taking place between Bertie and Jeeves:

“Er…….Jeeves”

“Yes, sir?”

“This bloke Wodehouse……”

“I believe his writings give uniform satisfaction, sir.”

“What a man, Jeeves! Those characterizations……..those intricate plots……..those fairytale settings ….those perfect endings. The boys at the Drones were raving about him.”

“He was described as the best living writer of the English language during his lifetime, sir”

“A sound egg, what?”

“I could not have expressed it better, sir”

“A jolly contented egg this Wodehouse, Jeeves?”

“Sir?” said Jeeves  frigidly, his right eyebrow rising one-eighth of an inch, which occurred when he was most disturbed.

“Er….Jeeves, what I meant was Mr Wodehouse had to be a content man to produce such ripping novels”.

“While I tend to agree with the general theme of your remarks, sir, I would scarcely take the liberty of describing so great a writer in such a flippant manner.”

“Er…….Jeeves. Perhaps I was unduly flippant.”

“Yes, sir,”

“Umm……Jeeves…you know those purple socks of mine which you so disliked?”

“Yes, sir,” said Jeeves.

“You may burn them.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Jeeves

“‘Thank You,  Jeeves’”

                                  

P.S.  I would like to thank Ajay for sending me this delightful guest post on Wodehouse and allowing me to publish it.  Please note - the headline 'Splendid Post, What!' is mine.  Ajay is too humble to be that self-congratulatory. 

This post makes me want to go back and read all of Wodehouse’s books all over again.  A splendid idea, what!

Never Let A Pal Down

...that is the Code of the Woosters.

For the uninformed, the Code of the Woosters is the title of a novel by P.G. Wodehouse.

And the personal code of the chief character in the novel, Bertie Wooster.

Bertie's belief in the code gets him into all sorts of situations - because his friends are forever making inconvenient or preposterous requests of him, knowing Bertie won't let them down.

Luckily for Bertie, he has a valet called Jeeves, who always manages to save the day.

Don't know who P.G. Wodehouse is? You soon will.

I have made what appears to be an "inconvenient" request of a living Bertie Wooster - my friend Ajay.

On Saturday, I will be guest posting an original piece on P.G. Wodehouse by Ajay.

I asked Ajay to do this because frankly he is the only one I know who speaks authentic Wodehouse.

And as anyone who knows knows, authentic Wodehouse is a sophisticated acquired art.

Ajay has perfected this art.

Bertie comes alive in his every conversation, every e-mail.  I even suggested to Ajay that maybe he is "Bertie" come out of the pages of Wodehouse, rather than himself.

Sorry, Ajay, I couldn't resist that.

Anyhoo, we have here a teaser from Ajay as to what we might expect on Saturday:

"Er...Jeeves... "

"Yes, sir."

"Am I raising her expectations too high?"

" I fear so, sir. Not a wholly advisable course of action."

"You mean to say she will look upon me as something the cat dragged in and rejected, after I submit my piece?"

"The possibility did cross my mind, sir"

"You mean to say, I am incapable of delivering the goods?"

"Well, sir........"

"Jeeves !"

"Sir?"

"Have I not told you not to say 'Well, sir' in that soupy tone of voice before?"

"I beg your pardon, sir"

"Fetch me reams of paper, a dozen sharpened pencils and an eraser of the highest quality. I shall roll up my sleeves and get to work. My eager public awaits."

"Very good, sir"  

 
Of course in keeping with the lackadaisical character of Bertie, Ajay has been dragging his feet on the real thing, in spite of the reams of paper and the dozen sharpened pencils.

He has been making all sort of excuses about the flu and what not.

But of course, I don't have a shred of doubt that the goods will be delivered for the guest post this Saturday as planned.

After all, it's the Code of the Woosters, isn't it...

Never Let A Pal Down!