A SIMPLE SENSE OF “SELF”

I wonder if there really is such a thing as “self”? If you look in the dictionary they give you a basic philosophical or psychological explanation of what “self” is and if you look a little harder there’s probably close to a hundred words we all use daily without a thought that have “self” in it as well.
There’s words and phrases like “self-aware”, “self determined”, “self-confident”, “self-absorbed”, “self-depreciating”, “himself”, “herself”, “self-destruct” and such yet none of them give a defining sense of self to anyone…even yourself. Why is that I wonder?
They may define a brief moment in time but generally only about a given action by a person but not the person itself.
The older we get there seems to become a quickening urge to “find oneself” for some unknown reason. We examine and re-examine everything about ourselves and the issues we think (or thought) were (or are) important to us at this stage of life while we cautiously move forward. The “Damn the torpedo’s” bravado we once had was quietly replaced when we weren’t looking by an unfamiliar hesitancy much like trying to walk on eggs while learning to chew gum at the same time in the dark.
At times we find ourselves muttering to no one but the reflection in the mirror some version of “I used to know myself…now I’m not so sure.” as the first seeds of “self-doubt” begin to take root. It’s quite certain that other “self’s” are not far behind like a deeper version of “self-reflection” with possibly a little “self-loathing” to spice up the gumbo with, but isn’t it amazing how distant and at “arms length” those “self’s” seem? We don’t act like we own them, we’re just using them as a research tool to, hopefully, be discarded when their usefulness is no longer needed and replaced by something else like a GPS upgrade. I personally am all for this. I’ve already grown tired of Helga the Dominatrix who screams things like “Turn left at puberty NOW you IDIOT!”.
Billy Crystal (or maybe it was Robin Williams…I dunno, I’m so confused these days) once said GPS systems should grow old with us and I think I now understand the thought but it seems to have not quite happened yet. If it had Helga would sound more like my long departed Grandmother or get a sex change and sound like my Uncle Dean (come to think of it…they both did sound somewhat alike to begin with) and it would be more like “Turn left up here at puberty…Woops, missed that turn son but it’s OK we’ll re-compute and catch back up with it in your early twenties. Believe me, guys don’t change all that much during those years anyways so you won’t miss a thing.”
Even with GPS I’m probably no closer to understanding myself right this minute that I was an hour ago, a day or week ago or even a year ago but I keep looking. Like an old Robert Frost poem I have had glimpses of what lies ahead but haven’t gotten there yet.
The only thing I know for certain is I wish I could still play baseball. With all of the curveballs that have been thrown at me the past few years I must be able to hit just about anything these days and have a ridiculously high batting average…even if I still don’t know myself or the “self” hidden inside me.

The Road Not Taken


TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20


Robert Frost
I have few regrets but many sorrows…how about you?

Travels with Yoda Part V

PART V

It’s been a wild and wooly couple of weeks around the ‘ol homestead with Yoda and I. Relatives dropping like flies, Yoda being treated like a terrorist, children partying all over the Middle East and a new medical malady to be added to my ever growing collection of body parts to be concerned about, and those are just the highlights of the non-stop fun that has happened and still has to happen for at least a few more weeks… aren’t you glad you checked back in?
My step-daughter gave me a cool gift for my birthday and sent Wendi & I to a Spring Training game as a present and we took Yoda along because he hadn’t seen a live baseball game. The D-Backs (my favorite team…I’m a home town kinda guy) were all sold out so she got us tickets for my second favorite team the Dodgers who happened to be playing the Indians that day. I’m not an American League fan but I sorta like the Indians from all of those “Major League” movies. Fortunately for all involved parties Ubaldo Jimenez wasn’t pitching that day so he couldn’t ding anyone.
So on this warm sunny day we drove off to Camelback Fields for the game. Yoda tried to learn “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” on the way over and the more he tried the more he suspiciously sounded like Grover in drag which gave Wendi and I cause for concern. As feared once we got there and were being checked at the gate out popped that damned light saber and all hell broke loose. In mere seconds Yoda turned a couple of support poles for the awnings into poker chips while yelling in some language none of us have ever heard before causing Yoda to be “detained” in the Security Office (that’s a polite way of saying he was duct taped to a chair while he was there) while we were allowed to watch the game as they figured out what damage Yoda caused and how much in repairs he owed. He was released into our custody at the end of the game and he grumbled the whole way home about not even being able to get a beer while he was there.
The next day we got the news that my step-daughter’s favorite grandmother had passed away causing for rather hurried preparations for her to go to Colorado to help her Dad with all of the things we’ve all learned come with experiences like that. A day or so later I got a call from my Dad to tell me my favorite uncle had passed away…and to get help with a problem on his Facebook account. In typical fashion…no “Happy Birthday” just an “Oh, by the way” and “While I’m thinking about it…”, somehow that seemed appropriate in a frightening way. Yoda spent the week just silently shaking his head at the strange humans he’s inherited and quietly tried to figure us all out. I think he may have killed a bottle of wine in the process but who knows for sure.
Yoda went with me to a few more doctors visits this week. He’s fascinated by medical procedures on this planet. He’s quite convinced we’re the most backwards planet in the Universe and based on recent findings by various scientists…he may be right. Several scientists armed with better telescopes and rocket propelled probes have recently discovered as many as six-hundred Earth-like planets and moons in our own backyard and new calculations say there may be as many as sixty-billion such objects within the Universe. So much for being the only guys in the neighborhood, I’m starting to think God sends all of the “OOOOPs” experiments here so we can kill each other off without bothering the good experiments. Why else would humans on the planet do some of the dumb shit we do to one another and wonder why God hasn’t intervened? Don’t like what someone says or their politics or religion? Kill ‘em. Want to have more than the other guy while killing the planet…so what, as long as I get my fleet of $80,000.00 luxury vehicles and the houses to go with them. It has to make sense to someone doesn’t it?
In any event Yoda went with me while they drew more blood …looking for what I have no clue anymore. They did an ultrasound on my heart because my health insurance wouldn’t approve my annual nuclear stress tests (thanks again Obama) and told me, contrary to my children’s opinion, I still have a heart in working condition. Then we got to the last doctor’s visit. Yoda was beside himself with glee. He finally met someone who is about his size. In walked my new addition to people with a lot of letters after their name…my new dermatologist. She’s somewhere between the height of my eight and nine year old granddaughters and just about as big around (they’re toothpicks) which gave me a less than fuzzy feeling about her abilities. As it turns out she’s great. She kicked my ass in ten seconds flat. Froze parts of my head (which was interesting in a kinky sort of way) and then got to the serious stuff. It appears I have a spot under my left eye that is most definitely Cancer and is spreading towards my eye (always use sunscreen kiddies) so she took a jackhammer disguised as a syringe and poked me everywhere under my eye before removing half my face for a biopsy (the results to be determined in the next few weeks). Yoda was only too willing to help but wasn’t allowed to due to a small thing called a license (but he did manage to get the cute young doctors cell number and they’re having dinner at Binkley’s Saturday night). After that it was off into the afternoon sunlight and lunch.
Yoda behaved like a first grader and teased me with “You got your butt kicked, You got your butt kicked…” while waving the Doc’s phone number around. As revenge I made him order from the kiddie menu at the Chinese place we stopped for lunch.
Next stop on our magical mystery tour…moving. I hate moving. This may be the death of me and I’m not allowed to help. It’s not going to be fun I promise you.
While we’re at it…based on my recent discoveries…don’t bother looking to God for help or answers. His voicemail for this planet is full and he’s only taking calls from worthy planets and we’re definitely not one of them.