“Sun and rain, are both precious gifts from God. Yet, we consistently bitch when it rains because we don’t want to get wet. Good and bad, again are both precious gifts from God. Yet, we consistently bitch when something bad happens because we don’t want to deal with it. Do you see where I am going here? Good, apply this to your life, pronto.”-ME
Archive for the ‘quote’ Tag
Real life is the present tense. We don’t fix our eyes to what was, or what will be. But rather we focus our hearts on what is. In this way, may we all find a measure of peace. -ME
“The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart.”-Buddha.
Often we are taught to look upward toward the sky for answers. The sky represents a bigger metaphor, which represents everything physical between us and the sky. Everything that will in fact give us no answers. To find God, to find the way, to find your answers, you must turn your eyes inward.-JMD
Roaches & Cocoons
I can recognize a tattered and torn cocoon when I see it; do you dare to call me naïve when I am also able to recognize the butterfly inside…
James M Davis
Thank the Lord, Algebra 101 is finally over. 101 my ass, I hurried out the door quickly. With my backpack securely fastened across my chest, I took my usually short cut between Perry Hall and the Commons. Directly above my head, the sun was beginning to peak out from a scatter of clouds. Today would be another hot, humid one, no surprise there. I reached for my cell phone.
“What’s up, where you at?” I asked, with a slight shortness of breath. I continued down the side walk with a hurried pace toward Vernon, my junior college home away from home. Ok, enough with the theatrics, I was headed toward my dorm room.
“In the parking lot, waiting on you. Where are you at?” My friend’s voice answered and asked.
“Just go out of class, I’m about to be there.”
“Ok, bet come on.”
Click…I hung up my phone with precision. This is not the first time we have had a conversation like this and certainly would not be the last one. I rubbed my hands together, enjoying the anticipation of what was to come. I hurried my pace again.
I reached the parking lot in short order. I scanned the area and with ease, I spotted my friends white Chevy S10. It was in its usual place, on the outskirts of the parking area, a short distance to college drive. Parked in the shade, I walked up to the passenger door. My friend had already spied me coming; he reached over and unlocked the door.
I hoped in, threw my bag in the back and before I could even mutter a word, my friend was dangling a cigar in front of my face. It went back and forth between his fingers with graceful precision. He spoke up, “You break it down, fill it up, and I will roll it.”
I knew the procedure; he knew I knew the procedure. “What’s up, you going to English class today?” I asked, my hands worked in near perfect unison with my two thumbnails; I had almost completed the task at hand.
He looked at me with a sly grin on his face, “Yeah, we got a test today. I have got to do it well on it too. Ms. Hill told me if I can manage a B that I might be able to finish the course with a passing grade.”
I opened my door, took a couple quick glances around and dumped the tobacco on the pavement underneath my friend’s truck. “Well, you know what they say, third time is a charm.” I replied laughingly, as I motioned with my left hand that I was ready for the weed.
He lifted up the middle arm pad resting in between us and handed over a small plastic bag. It emitted a bright green sparkling glow. “Yeah, no shit. It is multiple choice, so hopefully I will be able to work a miracle. Got a few classmates on board with doing a little uhh…I guess you could say answer sharing, so I should be straight.” He looked over at me, as I began to fill the cigar paper up and spoke again, “Only use half, I want to save one for later.”
“Answer sharing…good luck with that.” I replied, passing the cigar over to him. As he was finishing up the job, I looked through my cell phone to check a few messages. There wasn’t much to check, “So, where are we going to go, airport, park..?”
He was rolling the first side of the cigar over, and answered, “Nah man, we can’t go out that far today, I have to be back for that test.”
“Oh, yeah no doubt. The bridge then?” I asked, sitting up in my seat, looking out for campus police.
“Yeah, the bridge sounds good. We haven’t been there in a while anyway.” He answered, as he put the finishing touches on our little escape from reality.
“You sure you want to take this test high?”
He looked at me and laughed, “You sure you want to see me take this test and not be high?”
I nodded in approval, as he wheeled the manual transmission out of the lot and we headed toward College Drive.
On the way to the bridge, we lit, smoked, and finished the blunt. We shot the shit about various things, and listened to some rap music in between that. The drive took about ten minutes, which was perfect for today. When we arrived at the bridge, we pulled underneath it toward the left side, nestled nicely in the shade. At this point, both of our eyes were quite red and barely open.
I had my arm hanging out the window, enjoying the coolness of a breeze that seemed to never come around often enough. I was looking out into a small thicket of trees, when my eye caught a glimpse of something that would prove to be rather peculiar. There was a lone cocoon hanging from a branch. It couldn’t have been more than five or so yards away from my side of the truck. Its color was greatly distorted; it looked as if it had been through days of war. Scars lined the outside of its protective shell. On the limb itself where the cocoon hung, there were insects a scurry everywhere. Ants, small black beetle like bugs, and other insects traveled up and down the branch. It appeared that the ants had caught scent of the struggling cocoon and were preparing to ready a meal for their queen.
I looked over at my friend and said, “Hey man, you see that cocoon?”
He nodded, “Yeah, so what.”
“Oh, nothing. Just kind of crazy if you think about it. That cocoon has no chance of making it to a butterfly. I mean hell, look at it. It is in bad enough shape as it is, not to mention the army of ants that look like they are about to finish it off.”
My friend looked over and replied, “Yeah, that thing is definitely fucked man. That caterpillar should have picked a better spot.”
“You think if we grabbed it and put it in a jar or something that it would be able to change into a butterfly?” I asked, as my eyes continued to study the situation at hand.
He leaned over closer, to get a better look. “Shit man, I am not sure. It is probably already dead, but hell it wouldn’t hurt to try I guess.
I opened my door, and took a few steps toward the cocoon. “Yeah, you are probably right, but what the hell I am going to grab it anyway, what do I have to lose.”
“Well, hurry up and get it, we need to head back. I got twenty minutes before class starts.” My friend spoke. I reached the branch, and delicately grabbed the cocoon. I could sense the disappointment radiating from the army of ants lined up to do their duty. “Not today my friends.”
I hoped in the truck and we headed back to school. I had the cocoon in my right hand. I studied it with great anticipation. We continued down the road, when…
“Fuck man, we are being pulled over! Toss the sack, toss the sack, toss the sack dude!” Without hesitation, my right hand dumped the cocoon out the window. It fell with great speed for a thing of its size and landed amongst some grass and weeds in ditch. “Shit man, shit, I threw the cocoon out! Hand me the sack!” My friend quickly put the sack into my now empty hand and I threw it out the window…
“Your license and insurance.” The officer ordered, as I stared straight ahead. My friend handed his license and insurance over to the cop. He scanned over it and spoke again, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“No sir, I don’t. I didn’t think I was speeding.” My friend answered rather confidently.
“No, you definitely were not speeding. In fact, you were doing 15mph. Any reason why you are driving so slow?” the police officer asked, as he stole a quick peek over at me. “You, let me see your license too.”
I handed my license over to him. My friend spoke up with a bit of shock in his voice. He definitely was not prepared to defend against a case of driving too slow. “Sir, I am not sure why I was only going that fast umm..I did not realize it.”
“When is the last time yall smoked?” The cop continued with his questioning.
My friend was more than prepared to answer this question. We both have had to answer that question to many times to be honest. He looked at the officer and answered, “Like four, six hours ago.”
“Is that right. Cut the truck off and put your hands on the steering wheel. You in the passenger seat, put your hands on the dash. I will be right back.” He ordered, and then retreated to his patrol car. I could see another cop pulling up in the side mirror, Great.
“Holy fuck man, you were going 15mph.” I said in a low voice, trying not to laugh out of amusement and nervousness.
“You threw the sack out right” My friend spoke, confirming what he already knew. “I don’t think he saw it.” He finished up saying, as he looked at me with eyes wide open.
“Yeah we are straight; I think he is going to let us go.” The officer approached the truck again.
“Ok fellows, here are your licenses. Both of you checked out, no warrants, no unpaid tickets. I am assuming you are both college students.” We nodded our heads. “Get back to campus and I don’t want to see you two again. Be careful.” The officer finished speaking, tapped the top of the truck, and headed back to his car.
We pulled into the parking lot at Vernon. We both let out a sigh. “Shit, that was intense man.” I exclaimed, looking out the front windshield.
“Yeah it was. That cop was cool though, he didn’t mess with us that bad.” My friend spoke with a tone of relief.
“15mph??” I started to laugh. “I guess there is a first for everything.” I punched my friend in the arm.
He looked over at me with his eyebrows held high on his forehead, “You are one to talk. You threw that fucking cocoon out the window instead of the weed!” He was now laughing at me.
“Yeah, I kind of shit the bed on that one, but I recovered. I wonder where it landed though. I mean that ditch was right there, who knows right?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. But I do know this, I am five minutes late for class!” My friend opened his door, throwing his backpack on his shoulders. He headed started to jog away from the truck and yelled back to me, “Lock the door!”
I opened my door with backpack in hand and stepped half way out. I finished pushing the lock down, when something colorful caught my eye. I closed the door, looked toward the center of the hood, and I saw it. I studied it for a few seconds. I turned my head, let out a simple laugh, and walked off shaking my head with a smile.
…At times chance happens and someone takes a risk. Grabs a dying cocoon; fights for it, when it cannot defend itself against the world. Offering the butterfly a chance to spread its wings when no one else well. These flawed, unsung heroes are not always around to see its beautiful colors nor are they always successful. Those details matter not; for hope was given when no hope was in sight.
A Door Closes…Another One Opens
My stomach was in knots, as I continued walking up the beautifully brick path toward a large elegantly engraved wood door. The light from the moon were shining brightly off the huge glass window that adorned the front of the house. The house was absolutely marvelous. It had that wooden ski lodge feeling, but it yet it retained a feeling of home. My heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. I could not wait to surprise her. I stood at the door and rang the bell twice. I began to smile, she had no idea it would be me at the door.
The door opened and I heard the shocked voice of Tiffany’s mother say, “Jake! What in the world are you doing here?” She had a big smile on her face. She quickly smothered me with a hug. Tiffany’s parents love me, especially her mom. I am always good with the moms.
As she stepped back, I replied jokingly, “Hey! I was in the area and I thought I would stop by real quick!”
“Well come in out the cold”, she spoke in a motherly tone.
I stepped and began to explain, “I actually finished up with everything at work and decided I would surprise your sweet daughter with a visit.”
“That’s so sweet of you and it’s great to see you. Everyone thought you had to work. Tiffany is going to be a mess when she sees you”, she proclaimed as she leading me down a hallway.
We ended up in a family room that was the size of my apartment back home. I exchanged greetings with Tiffany’s farther and had to re-explain my surprise plan. We talked for a few minutes about different things, mainly work, and some sports. Then it dawned on me, I had not even seen my girlfriend yet. So I waited for a good break in the conversation and said, “So where is Tiffany by the way?”
Her mom perked up and replied, “Oh, yeah, the reason why you are here, right. Well you actually just missed her. She went out with her friends just about an hour ago. But it’s not a big deal, I will just text her and see where she is at and I won’t mention you are here.”
“Ok, thanks that would be great”, I replied. It was twenty past ten o’clock and I should have guessed that Tiffany along with her friends would be out on the town at this point. But this would not hamper my plan. I would have to surprise her at a different location. Actually this might even make it better.
Sharon, Tiffany’s mother, provided me with the directions to the place she was at, which I typed into my rental car’s GPS. It was only a short drive from their house. A short drive before I would see my beautiful Tiffany. I could not wait. She was such a fun girl who did not take life to serious. It was approaching out two year anniversary. I had recently thought about popping the question to her. But for now that would be on hold. A cross country surprise would suffice. Would she run into my arms screaming? Or maybe she would punch me in the chest with shock? Whatever her reaction was, I knew this was going to be something to talk about for a long time afterwards.
I parallel parked on the street adjacent to the bar Fat Whiskey. It was tucked in among a row of other bars, stores, and other buildings. I walked up to the door and pushed my way through with an air of confidence with feelings of warmth about me. The set up was more like a bar than club, but there were areas where you could dance or sit on lounge furniture. I scanned the bar quickly and saw nothing. I was nervous at this point, so I stopped at the bar for a crown on the rocks with a splash of water. Trust me, it is one good drink.
I continued to look around, when boom! I spotted her two friends Nicole and Whitney seated on colorful couches. They saw me at the same time and their eyes suddenly became big. They were the size of saucers as they stared at me with their mouths open. I looked to Nicole’s left and I saw Tiffany. Well I saw what I could see of her. Suddenly my eyes grew to the size of bowling balls and my jaw hit the floor, as I now began to stare. She was seated on the lap on some guy with her face firmly planted in his, while he was getting a nice feel of her ass. To say they were making out would be an understatement.
I stood there staring at her. Her friends sat there staring at me. I could feel them looking at me, but I did not care at this point. It felt like I was watching her making out with this guy for an eternity. Feelings of anger, hate, sadness, confusion, shock, and mostly anger coursed through my body, pulsating like an electric current. I began to feel sick to my stomach as I continued to gaze. I could not shake the thought of are you fucking serious? Are you fucking kidding me? I said that over and over in my head, as I became angrier with each ass grab and kiss. Finally, her friends snapped out of their trance and nudged Tiffany on her shoulder. Nicole, I can’t stand that bitch said something to her and she spun around. She stood up, fixed her clothes, and proceeded to walk toward me with a look of surprise on her face. Surprise!
Before she could get to me, I walked out the door and started to walk back to my rental car. “Jake! Jake! Stop! Come here”, she yelled at me as I neared my car.
I turned around and saw her boy toy right behind her oddly enough. This should be interesting. “Jake! I am so sorry, this is not what you think!”
She was now a few feet in front of me and her boy toy was about twenty seconds away. “Really? Fucking Really!? Are you fucking serious. I flew all the way out here to surprise you and you are making out with this guy? Get the fuck out of here!”, I yelled, eying this guy as he approached closer.
“Hey babe, who is this guy?” he asked, while slapping and grabbing a handful of her ass from behind.
“Just go away, this…” before she could finish explaining to him that the guy in front of him was in fact her boyfriend of almost two years, I punched him as hard I could in the mouth. He went flying to the ground as if he was a crumpled piece of paper. I quickly shook my hand off and looked at her calmly in the eyes and said, “I have a plane to catch.”
“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” -Alexander Graham Bell
An Insightful Look at Beauty an Essay by an Unbiased One Who Knows Very Little;
first, it must be made clear, if not already perceived from the title, this is a totally unbiased look at beauty and what it takes to be beautiful and secondly, I admit know very little.
Dedicated to my grandmother, without her I would never have learned what beauty is.
Beauty takes a certain amount of innocence mixed with being naïve couple that together with a bold audacity to be you…To be you, let those words echo in your head for a moment…To be you…
Those are some, but not all of the prerequisite ingredients to beauty.
Well, well… Having written and read much in my day, I will spare you the boredom of a typical essay, which tries to describe through abstract, logical terms what beauty is… Instead, I will offer up a true tale while crossing my fingers.At times I have a hard time writing fiction, but luckily I have seen and experienced beauty first hand and it will be my honor to share with you its gift… ***
The house was a smallish, one bed room neatly kept secret, tucked away on a country dirt road. A well kept secret that is more than worth sharing with the world. Seated in a burgundy recliner was an older lady, her age was probably somewhere around that of sixty or so. She had sparkling blue eyes, kind of like mine or so I am told. She is of Welsh and Egyptian decent. Mother to two sons and one daughter. Grandmother to six.
As she rocks back and forth in her chair, a dreadful disease courses through her body. Its ungodly mission is to take from the Earth, a woman more beautiful than my words can describe. It was successful. However, walking down that dirt road was a little boy, who will never let her beauty die, never let her die.
No more than four years old, with his hair slicked back, some would even say he resembled Elvis Presley or that kid from the Wonder Years. He was a shy young boy, timid to cause a fuss. His heart was full of silliness and caring, yet this was locked away in his heart. Only a few know the combination and his sweet grandmother was one. The little boy knocked on the door to that small house.
She was to sick to get up and open the door, but she called aloud, “Come in!” The little boy slowly opened the door and walked inside. She looked at her grandson as he walked through the door and tears started to trickle from her heart, she was so proud. “Hey little boy, come over here and give your grandmother a hug” she spoke. The little boy looked away sheepishly, as if he was scared of his grandmother but he wasn’t. “Now don’t make me come and get you” she spoke again.
The little boy started to inch closer to her recliner, where his grandmother remained seated. She had at this point a playful smile on her face, as the little boy approached. As the little boy came ever closer, he looked around as if he was acting like he was paying his grandmother no attention. But all along he knew that he just loved this beautiful old woman, why he acted liked he did not care, that’s a question for another day. The little boy got closer, and closer, and closer…
“I got you!” she called out. In one strong grab, she had pulled the little boy up to her lap like she had just caught a fish and was ready to eat. She displayed strength that many had thought was gone because of the cancer that ravaged her body. But at this moment she was stronger than any person, nothing was going to stop her from loving on her little boy.
The little boy started to playfully struggle, like he wanted to get away, but he didn’t really want to. This was only place he ever wanted to be. She turned him over on his back and placed him on her lap long ways; as if she was going to spank him in reverse. She looked at him and smiled. The little boy looked at her and smiled, he knew what was about to happen and he loved it, she loved it. She started to play the piano on his little stomach with such grace and talent. The only musical effect this had was to cause both of them to laugh hysterically. The little boy was so ticklish on his stomach and would proceed to just laugh and laugh and laugh. Suddenly, she would stop. The little boy would relax for a second and just at that moment, she would start-up again. Laughter could be heard from far away. “You are not getting away from me” she spoke, as she tickled his little stomach.
The little boy walked back down the dirt road to his home without ever telling his grandmother that he loved her…but it did not matter because she knew that he loved her and he know that she loves him.
I never saw my grandmother again after that day. But she taught me more lessons in those few brief encounters than I could ever imagine. Not only did she teach me about love among several other things, but she taught me about beauty.
Some one asked the little boy some years later, “Who does being beautiful mean to you?” The little boy replied, “Being beautiful…doesn’t that have something to do with playing the piano?” The little boy smiled.
See beauty is nothing you see. Beauty is not anything you say. Beauty does not have a name. Beauty is something you feel deep down in your soul. Beauty is not physical. Beauty is not young or old. Beauty is not relative or friend. Beauty is something you just know when two souls meet for the first time. Beauty is when your grandmother is in reality to sick to lift her little grandson up and tickle his little belly, but she does it anyway. Beauty is when you accept that you are still that same little timid boy who acts like he does not care but deep down knows that he does, and you know as well. Beauty is laughter, beauty is smiles. Beauty is forever.
Beauty is the love I have for my sweet grandmother. Beauty is the love she has for me. My grandmother is beautiful. Some one as beautiful as her only comes around so often in your life. I miss her…
Next, a final short tale of beauty.
The classroom was located on the third floor, in an old building, one that has long needed to be either torn down or refurbished. Many physically pretty young ladies walked in and out that building ever day. The little boy (really not so little) even had a number of pretty girls to walk in and out of his classroom throughout his college years. Blondes and brunettes, tall and short, some had prettier faces than others and some had better bodies than others. Some were tan, some had fair skin, some were sweet, and some were bitches. Some were easy and few had self respect. Some had pretty eyes, while others had killer thighs. Some had good hearts and some lacked caring. Some knew they were pretty and others doubted themselves.
But there was only one beautiful girl who walked into the little boy’s class that day. He knew her no more than the next random student. The little boy knew not her name, nor where she was from, or even her age. The little boy knew not if they even would talk, nor ever become acquaintances, much less friends. Needless to say, the little boy knew and still knows very little.
But there is one thing that he knows and that is beauty. See the little boy would probably never admit, why well that’s a question for another day, but he knew as soon as she walked into the door, that she was beautiful. And I don’t just mean physically although she is certainly attractive to the eye, but her heart and soul are just as pretty as her exterior.
Did the little boy think she was beautiful because he liked her? Did the little boy think she was beautiful because she was so physically pretty? No and no. The little boy knew she was beautiful because the tickling of his soul told him so and guess what, he was right. Some time after that memorable day, we became close friends. Often times we fight and argue like an old married couple, but even more often, I bring a smile to her face and she brings one to mine.
The little boy was asked a question one day, “Do you think you would still say she is beautiful if yall never became friends?” The little boy replied, “I knew she was beautiful before I even knew her name, so what do you think?” The little boy smiled.
That beautiful girl re-taught the little boy a lesson that day, a lesson he had longed forgot. She taught him a lesson of beauty. She taught him that beauty is not planned, that beauty does not care what your name is. That beauty is not seen by the eyes and that beauty cannot be predicted. That beauty does not care about class, status, or social standing. That beauty is more than skin deep. Beauty is being silly. That true beauty tickles the soul. Beauty is a girl who will put up with even the most stubborn of ways because she cares. Beauty is when that same little boy can never seem to say the right thing, but he never stops from trying. Beauty starts and forever remains in the soul. Beauty is when I tell my sweet girl how beautiful she is and she replies by denying that I am right, but deep down she knows I am telling the truth.
Beauty is the love I have for my sweet girl. Some one as beautiful as her only comes around so often in your life. I love my sweet girl.
Can you think of some one that is beautiful? And why is that person beautiful to you? Hm… hm…
A well structured and written quote, is more than a few simple sentences. A quote holds a vast amount of power and meaning while being conveyed with the shortest of breaths.
Thinking about it, a really good quote is like a super compacted short story or novel.
A funny thing about quotes, is that it’s not what the quote actually says,but who says it that gives it meaning in most cases.
It just sounds so much better hearing that it came from lets say Ben Franklin as opposed to someone like myself.
Enjoy and have a great day!
“There is a right way and a wrong way. Then there is God’s way.” -JMD
“When a smile is produced by the mere thought of someone, I can think of nothing greater.” -JMD
And finally one of my recent favorites.
“You are used to giving up, I am not; seems like we have a bit of a problem here.” -JMD