A World of Experience

A recent entry on The Grey-Beard Loon's blog churned up the memories for me. A lovely tango video accompanied by a little blurb about how select tourists attempt to immerse themselves in the local culture made me think of a certain former co-worker from Trinidad-Tobago who absolutely was living his dream by coming to Texas and wrapping himself in the cowboy culture. He could warble a country hit, particularly something by Jim Reeves or Ray Price, and your ears wouldn't know the difference. He was an absolutley unique character. As were so many of the people from other countries that I have had the privelege of working with throughout the years.

I consider myself so fortunate to have worked alongside and be taught by brilliant med techs who bring with them the experiences and richness of foreign lands. To date, in the lab field alone, I have had the good fortune to work with techs from:

India.

Iraq.

Hong Kong.

Vietnam.

Trinidad/Tobago.

Mexico.

Egypt.

Nigeria.

British Guyana.

The Philippines.

Peru.

Venezuela.

Argentina.

Belize.

And those are just the ones off the top of my head. As they immersed themselves in our culture, perfecting their english, I too soaked up what they had to offer. I listened to their music, attended weddings with traditional garb and food, listened to them speak their native tongue, and found that we had far more similarities than differences. And believe me, you haven't lived until you have heard an Indian rap song (yes, there is such a thing!).

What different nationalities have you experienced with your coworkers? How do you find they enrich (or frustrate) your life?

Monday Monday

Er...make that Sunday Sunday.

But you know Monday is bound to come around. I mean, since we didn't get caught up in the "Rapture" and all. '

So here we are. And here we spend another Sunday enjoying the downtime and family, and preparing for yet another workweek ahead.

At least your job doesn't suck as bad as Dilbert's. Or does it? Tell me, do you enjoy your work? Is there something about it that tees you off? Is there a particular aspect of it that you like? Do you look forward to it every day, or is it so much drudgery?

Well, at least I can wish everybody a happy Monday. I guess they really are inevitable, even in the face of the end of times.

Last Post (?)

Since we have the "Rapture" coming and all, I suppose I'll be one of those non-followers who will fall into the depths of Hell when the Earth opens up and becomes a gaping maw directly to the the underworld. All the other perfect people will ascend with their Lord unto the Heavens and will live happily ever after.

Or not.

I guess we shall see. So.....in case this is the last day for us all one way or the other, I offer a parting piece of humor that should make both sides happy. At least for a while until the second coming. It could, after all, be my last post.

Or not.

So I'm confused. I'm not religious, so I would like a little help here. I don't understand, if this is the "rapture", or the second coming, or whatever, whatever happened to Armageddon, and the four horsemen of the Apocalypse? Does it all happen at the same time? Is Judgment Day the same, or is it a different thing? Is this doomsday, so to speak, because if it is, then were the Mayans wrong all along? My poor head....

Yeah. What say I see you same time, same place tomorrow. That sounds good to me. Maybe I'll have a Dilbert comic or two to get you ready for the work week.

After all, I suspect that it will be business as usual again. Not even the Rapture can stop Mondays from coming around.

Or not.

In the Dust

Now that we've finally had some rain to wash the dust off our vehicles, some cars you pass on the road may look a little cleaner, or, at least, a little less dusty.

But having a dirty car is not always a bad thing. Some inspired, talented rogue artist just may find your filthy car and proceed to share his artistic interpretations. This is not just any mundane, smiley-face kid's drawings, mind you. No, this guy takes his art very seriously. Go here and I promise you WON'T believe your eyes. Be sure to visit the "Gallery" and see my favorite, "The Rapture of Pop 'n Fresh". How to describe that one? Well....you have to see it to believe it. As well as all the others.

So if you're looking for something a little - well- different today, there ya go. You will never look at a dirty car in quite the same way again.

A Question of Balance (Motherless Child)

This is a repeat of a blog that I posted about 2-1/2 years ago on the VicAd. It's all I can think to say on Mother's Day.

I don't know what's worse: when I dream about her, or when I don't. Sometimes in my dreams I see her as she once was: young, beautiful, alive, vibrant, and smiling....always smiling. Sometimes I see her in her later years, still beautiful, but tired, weary....The dreams can be so vivid, I can feel, smell, even taste as if in a waking state. But when I wake up, she is not there.

The dreams without her seem to be more frequent these days. I fear that I won't remember, won't be able to feel her again. I worry that the only time I will see her face is in photographs. When she appears in my dreams, I always hug her. It feels so real. If I stop dreaming about her, will I ever have contact with her again on any plane?

Driving alone in the windy darkness last night, I listened to Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" and it made me wonder: Is she anywhere? Does she feel anything? Can she see, hear, think? Is there an existence beyond this life where my mother is....AWARE? I try to balance things in my head. Being the scientist I am, I am forever searching for that balanced equation. It gives order to the universe and reason to our beings. I can't seem to make this life and anything after it balance in my head. Faith and logic escape me now.

As I watched the leaves swirling, whirling in the wild winds last night and felt the air growing ever colder, I wondered if she is cold where she is. I think that maybe I would like to believe she is basking in the sunlight, young again, glowing in the warmth. I hope she is. The last dream I had of my mother before she died is the way I want to remember her. She had risen out of the water in a beautiful one-piece bathing suit, her tall black bouffant hair inexplicably untouched by the water, straight white teeth shining in the sunlight. She was, in essence, reborn. Does this mean she would be reborn after her passing? I yearn to believe I will see her again. I feel her slipping away, ever so slowly, as if it were all a dream. If I could achieve a balance of having her in my dreams and having her in my life I would have less questions. Perhaps not all equations are meant to be balanced.

If only I could know for sure. If I ever see her again, in my dreams or otherwise, I would just like to ask her:

Tell me - did the wind sweep you off your feet?

Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day

And head back to the Milky Way?

And tell me - did Venus blow your mind?

Was it everything you wanted to find?

And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

And tell me - did you sail across the sun?

Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded

And that Heaven is overrated?

Tell me - did you fall for a shooting star?

One without a permanent scar?

And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?