Month: June 2025

Gilgamesh

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Various lines left from the past for us to understand today.

Reading the editor’s notes in poetry magazine, I noted that she made reference to Gilgamesh. In my technical education I was not exposed much if at all old and ancient writings. This fact became apparent to me when I walked into take the MAT test cold while I was working on my M Ed. Over the past twenty years or so if someone made reference to some old work or an author with which or whom I was unfamiliar, my inclination is to find that work or another work by the same author to familiarize myself with the style.

So it is with Gilgamesh. I found a volume on Amazon.

“The strongest of men will fall to fate if he has no judgment.”

This lesson (take away) from the story of Gilgamesh has been translated from a Babylonian clay tablet that was carved 900ish years BCE. This is I think the earliest known discussion of the death of common sense.

Reading about Gilgamesh who is two thirds god and one third man running around chasing down Enkidu who was living the good life like Tarzan or the roman twins brought to light the quoted comment from the gods shown above.

It is a cobbled up story about how Enkidu came to be. As it turns out, Gilgamesh was a stinker running around grabbing stuff even if he did not need it. That activity tends to use up all your kudos and the people get grumpy about it. Common folk started looking for a way to get rid of Gilgamesh so they can be in peace. They – the people – were feeling jilted and put upon. (Good king Wenceslas has run amok.) They talked to their god(s) who then talked to another group of designer gods who got the creator god on the phone. She, her name is Aruru, was told by the design team, you messed that up (Gilgamesh) so fix it.

Aruru invented Enkidu so that Gilgamesh (Gil) would have a playmate and leave the regular folks out of it. To make it seem plausible Gil had to do more conquerings. (We do a similar thing today. If you get assigned a drug that has (a) crappy side effect(s) there is also a drug to treat the side effect(s).) The story goes on to tell about various conquerings after Gilgamesh and Enkidu become mates and spend time doing the random conquerings. They do not spend much time thinking about the consequences of their conquerings. Eventually stuff turns to crap because the infrastructure is not being maintained. The flood happens. Etc.

The book of Genesis seems to be the same story with a few more begats in it and a little more specificity instead of leaving the story of everything up to a few random gods. The term god means starter person. In the beginning there had to have been starter people. Those early folks who through random chance developed the fire gene.

Once they developed fire, the world went rapidly crazy from there. Food tasted better. Drinks were better. Try making whiskey with cold water. Or try making bread without an oven. Smelting metals from ore is especially hard to do without fire, a really hot one. Wars became easier to fight with spears and swords and knives and arrows. It was easier to hunt when the war was on pause. Better longer lasting food led to affluence which led to opulence which led to pondering the universe and the why of it all. Steam was invented and that got rid of that annoying job of rowing and rigging the sails when not rowing. On and on it goes.

These days there is AI (arbitrary innocence, automated ignorance, artificial intelligence, you pick) which allegedly will either save us or kill us all and the grumpy folks are talking (still) to the gods. Where is Aruru?

The strongest of men will fall to fate if he has no judgment.

Throughout man’s existence the smart money has been on the guys who looked at all sides of some action before leaping into it with both feet. Fate in this instance is random happenstance. Planning is important. Even with all the planning fate can jump up and bite you in the left cheek while you are moving by it.

Maybe it is true. Stories must be told and retold over and over and again and again.

Carpe Diem.

Cherry Tomatoes

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I came home last night with no more thoughts or inspiration other than remembering to put out the trash for the early morning pickup. Attached to the kitchen door of my condo was this ziplock bag of goodies fresh from our garden. My neighbor, Joe, had harvested our first two cherry tomatoes. (He kept one. Drat, But it is an endeavor for which he provides most if not all of the effort, so I celebrate that with him.)

I left it on the kitchen counter, put out the trash, read about Gilgamesh for awhile and went to bed. I had visited earlier with my son and my daughter-in-law and grandson Luke. I had not seen or talked to Luke for some time. (He is a long haul truck driver and spends a lot of time on the road.) Big gaps in time enable me to see how he has matured. Cruising the countryside in a big rig takes him to other places with new experiences. He is an intelligent mature man comfortable in his own skin. And I slept well.

I found this mature little tomato back this morning and celebrated its existence. I asked Copilot – a fun thingy on this laptop – to write an ode to this lowly tomato. It gave me this:

Ah, noble tomato, blushing on the vine,  
First jewel of summer, how proudly you shine!  
You rise from earth with unassuming grace,  
Green shoulders sun-kissed, red with pride of place.  

Not yet a bushel, just one brave lone flame,  
The garden’s herald, whispered in by rain.  
A promise in pulp, in seeds tightly curled,  
You carry the sun and scent of the world.  

Your skin so taut, like hope held in suspense—  
We wait for your fall with mouths, not pretense.  
For in your flesh lives warmth, both sweet and tart,  
A tangy hymn sung straight to the heart.  

Let poets chase roses that bloom and fade,  
I toast you instead, in salad or braid—  
Sliced on warm bread with salt like a spell,  
You speak in flavors no words dare to tell.  

So here’s to you, red comet on the stem,  
First of your kind, a botanical gem.  
The season begins when you ripen bold—  
A lowly fruit, and a miracle told.

Kind of corny. This sounds a little like Willy Shakesperson with his panties in a wad. But Copilot cannot understand whether it is talking about a fruit or a girl friend. It picked both. It swings both ways.

I decided to celebrate the tomatoes existence with breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and skillet potatoes which is the reason – I am certain of this – why God added fat to bacon. Potatoes and onions are much better fried up in the leftover bacon fat.

I know. I hear you. I am a very religious guy when it comes to observations like these. We all know that the good things come from God. He sent those animals with cloven hooves here to cook the potatoes. (Potatoes fried in beef tallow are pretty good also.) Amen to that!

I wrote a text to my neighbor, Joe, thanking him. I also reported that there only enough for a garnish,

Burp. Sorry.

Carpe (well fed) Diem.

Gnats

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A gnat is any of several species of small flying insects that magically appear in the late spring and stick around until late autumn. Here and there they show up without seemingly any help from anyone. It is truly magical. Tiny life, once not here and then here.

I thought of this while waiting for the Nespresso to complete this morning. I was watching one of God’s creatures hop across the kitchen counter nearby as my cup was filling. To be honest, I was focused on whether it was a gnat or one of the floaters that occasionally appear in my vision. Gnat it was.

Imagine the world we live in from the view of the gnat. Big does not begin to describe it.

Imagine your universe … big does not…

This is the kind of thought experiment that I have when I allow myself to do it. We are all here doing the same thing. – Eat, survive, stay alive, reproduce. Why do we spend so much time getting in front of each other? If the hope was I would answer this question so that it could be rebutted with opulent dismissiveness, I cannot. I cannot answer why many are willing to advance unwanted or unasked for interference. I cannot answer why we cannot merely be present for each other.

Gnat is a term that means small fly. There are many species of tiny insects that are referred to as gnats in a general sense. Gnat is a generic term. Gnat is a stereotypical term. Stereotypes are assessments of a small group and extension of those assumptions to a larger group with a bias toward that larger group. The bias often comes from a sense of envy.

In the New Testament there is a story about an owner of an olive grove who hires day labor several times a day to pick his olives. At the end of the day the guys who worked all day became grumpy that they were not paid more than the guys that had only picked olives for a couple hours. They expected their deal to change simply because the olive grove owner was generous to the late comers. The early group was envious of the late comers good fortune.

Envy is a powerful force in life. Envy is all mental. The guys who worked all day could have celebrated the two hour workers’ good fortune instead of mourning their own perceived misfortune but they did not. They chose to be grumpy. The olive grove owner admonished them for their grumpiness.

Everywhere in the world people, animals, insects, plants, fungi are doing the same thing – eat, survive, stay alive, reproduce. Seemingly not recognizing that our fellow people, animals, insects, plants, fungi are doing the same. Recognizing that we are all doing the same thing in life brings peace to the soul. Some would call that woke, a slang term that intends to demean the idea of compassion for our fellow man. Peace only comes with the awareness of the needs of others.

We are all human on Earth with the same needs.

We are all gnats or smaller in the universe. Our needs do not change nor do others.

Carpe Diem.

Ted Lasso

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I really do hate admitting that Debbie is right. It is a feeling that I do not think is unique to her. I felt the same towards Cheryl. It seems a man thing to me.

She told me that I would like Ted Lasso. I think I was resistant on principle. It had little to do with the actual show. Just the fact that she said you are going to like it, made me resistant. She is right. Streaming it is better because I can keep watching episodes while doing less interesting duties such as laundry.

When Cheryl was still alive and home with me I tended to bury my day with a lot of chores that come with taking care of a person with ill health. Now that it is just me those chores are easy to ignore for longer. There are less of them. That is another fact of me, myself and I. There are some days when I have less get up and go, less vim and vigor, less energy.

Ted Lasso reminds me of Mom and her “Monday, bloody Monday” attitude about the first christian working day in the week. His wild enthusiasm starting the morning is incredible to those around him. He can be too much and at the same time infectious. He also does not allow others to help him. It is an infectious show. Ted is able to help and influence all of those around him.

But that is not the story here. Ted Lasso is a metaphor for us all. In his world there is happiness, sadness, love revenge, vindictiveness, ego, ambivalence, scurrilousness maybe a little unscrupulousness tossed in to balance the spices. About a year ago, a few months after Cheryl’s soul left her body, I was feeling a little better. I bought a new bike and started riding it in earnest. It got me out of the condo and into the sunshine. I spent 3 – 4 days a week riding the Little Miami Trail. I put my bike on the back of the car and kept it there. In my mind maybe a trail would pop up and I would ride it. That “go ride at a moments notice” became my occupation and passion. It took over the emptiness I felt from Cheryl’s moving on.

In October of last year I met a woman because of a mutual acquaintance with a friend from church. Lately we have been having an off-the-wall discussion about what to call our relationship. My cousin likes the term Life Partner which although descriptive is less so in our case. Labels are interesting in their implications.

This Spring and almost summer season is not cooperating weather-wise and I have not ridden as much as I would like. So, I have filled several empty hours thinking about Debbie and where we are going. It is a recurring thought theme. That particular thought thread strings my thoughts into what is my purpose? I imagine most older adults think about this issue.

I do not spend much time with it. Sitting here at my desk writing, there is a copy of Cheryl’s picture that was published in the newspaper as a part of news of our engagement. She is a beautiful young woman in that picture. The photographer did a great job of posing and lighting her face.

I wonder how she is doing. Ted Lasso reminds me that there are somethings that cannot be known.

Carpe Diem.