The Winds of Change

Let me assure all my readers and friends that PinF has survived Wilma. Thank you all for your inquiries and emails regarding mine and Sophie's well being, all of which I was unable to receive due to the extensive loss of power in S. Florida. PinF has arrived in Pennsylvania to tend to more pressing matters regarding my father's health. My journey wasn't easy as I had to drive 180 miles to Orlando with the possibility of no gas stations open along the way board a flight. My reservation was worthless due to the devestation and loss of electricity in West Palm Beach.

A current posting is long overdue; though the inspiration for such hasn't exactly been there. PinF is very much back in the same "life-limbo" he was in July when he was recalled from Florida to tend to his father, only this time it is much more grave. Couple all this with the stress and worry that comes with a hurricane, and you have a neglected blog. Nevertheless I'm also keenly aware of just how many of you have come to rely on these frivilous postings as much as your morning coffee's, as such I am duty bound to report in. So many of you have responded with words of support and encouragment; many of whom I've never even met which makes your words even more helpful and humbling.

As I was "hunkered" down in my house during Wilma I was thinking two things: 1. How bad the weathermen screwed up the forecast, and 2. How insignificant our trivial worries and responsibilities are. Something about 125 MPH winds make you put your priorities in order, and slowly you become less concerned with bills, salaries, work related issues, cars, and possesions until you are stripped down of your wordly worries and just praying to yourself and to your God that you make it through this. That's where I was one week ago today, in my closet under my stairs with my cat, listening as the roof started to go, and then the fence, not to mention the trees and someone's F-150 cap. It was the first time that I can remember being scared since I was eight and climbed the ladder of highdive at our swimclub only to realize I hadn't any interest in jumping from a height into water I was barely able to tread in.

My thoughts were of my daughter and my family. Nothing else really mattered, I didn't care about the car, the motorcycle, hell I didn't care about the house; all I wanted was for this hideously moaning wind to stop. It did, for about an hour. I was in the "eye", and ever so slowly myself and my communitie's neighbors all started to assemble outside and begin to assess the damage. It was extensive, trees down on cars and houses, broken gas main's- which incredibly were responded to by the emergency officials. My roof was 1/3 ripped of it's cedar shingles, my 6 foot privacy fence was shattered, giving me a newer style of privacy. PinF went immediately across the way to check on his elderly neighbor, an 80 yr old gem of a woman named Doris from Kentucky, she too was fine. We all exchanged stories, had a beer or two and then quickly scattered as the "backend" of the storm began to roar. This was to be far more terrifying and destructive than the first 3 hour session.

Suffice to say PinF made it. He dealt with the loss of power and infrastructure and began the immediate clean-up of his area. Then I attempted to call the airlines to cxl my next day flight, unbeknowst to me that Wilma already had. I was to be thwarted from leaving S. Florida for two more days, my father's condition steadily deteriorating, until finally I took the move of driving to Orlando on what gas I had and catching a flight from there.

None of this was easy. None of this was fun. But as I've told the few people who've asked I still feel only "inconvenienced", and not really destroyed by this. I need only look to New Orleans, Pakistan, and Guatemala to see the depth of complete despair coupled with the loss of hope. For when hope is lost, all is lost. PinF lost some roof tiles, and a fence, and all of his refrigerated goods. What PinF gained was a truer understanding of his own temporary human existance and a much clearer unbderstanding of what really matters in life, and that is just that- LIFE. All the other shit is stuff we choose to clutter our minds with, never really thinking that everthing is a gamble and that we all walk the thin line, and that thin line is likely to snap when all of us least expect it.

My father's current predicament is an example of this thin line. So is my being here again. My priorities are clear: work, bills, and hurricane clean-up can wait. What matters most to me is life, and unlike a week ago it isn't mine that matters now but my dad's.

Para-dicey

Well the rent is due. PinF has watched and waited for 5 months as people throughout the gulf and carribean have been besieged with catastrophic hurricanes. Now it's our turn. Another alphabet killer, this time named Wilma is on the way. Quite a contrast from what I've just seen as I cycled down and back this past weekend. I saw crystal turquoise blue waters and sun-drenched islands of bleach white sand. Here is where life moves at a considerably different pace, and where clocks really have little sway over the locals. Tiki huts populate the upper keys as you make your way towards Key West, offering cold beer and conch fritters and plenty of locals with fish tales. It's enough to make one wonder if anyone works here, as it seems everyone's kind of on an extended holiday.

The reminders of past hurricane's and their power are everywhere. The most notably obvious are the ruins that run parallel to the Over Seas highway, these are long since battered remants of the original highway and railroad that were washed out by past hurricanes. These are all sobering reminders of the power of nature and the vulnerability of these island gems that are strung out 170 miles into the Atlantic ocean. For anyone who has never been, this is a must see area of this incredibly large country of our's.

I was enjoying my ride rumbling down through Keys anticipating all that is Key West: the revelry, the music, and the food. Of course there is the sunset too. I met up with a life long good friend from Pennsylvania Laurie MacLaughlin and her parents, herself a resident of the Keys for almost 20 years as are her parents who retired here a few years ago. Her work as a marine biologist with NOAA is what brought her here-- and I beleive keeps her here, as she is passionate about the reef and its preservation. We spent a great evening enjoying good food, good drink and then a little of night life. I was treated to wonderful hospitality and a comfortable bed, all much appreciated after an often rain soaked ride down.

Now it's back to the reality of what is coming. I wonder how Sophia is handling this, as the TV is non-stop with it's forecasts, and of course everyone starts talking bout this, not to mention probably even the school itself. Weighing even heavier on my mind is my father's health. He was involved in auto accident last week and has now slipped back into a very uncertain state, and is currently in ICU. The true dilemma will arise if his condition worsens, as I am now in for the immediate haul to make sure Sophia is protected with the impending storm, a fact I made the Pennsylvania Doctor aware of. I also realize and can imagine if my father could communicate to me, he would tell me to be here for my daughter, that he'd be ok, that's just the way he is; of course I'm torn all the same. Still the most important thing in getting a child through this type of ordeal is putting up a calm front. I realize that Sophia, and indeed all children take there cues from their parents in times of crisis, so as worried as I am for my father and of course our collective safety here, I cannot afford top be anything but calm and confident.

Of course Sophia and I have been through this before with Frances and Jeanne last year, and she has witnessed for herself the power that is a hurricane. She missed quite a bit of school as well, having lost power to our entire area for 7 days. So we wait; we watch the weather, and we prepare as best you can. You take the precautions that need to be taken, you make sure your vehicle has plenty of gas so as not to be caught in the panic. I did that this morning, so at lunch I will gather up the non perishables I am short on and then go over a plan with my buddy John and Sophia's mother, as I am still concerned for her safety as well. I have a concrete house to shelter in, so I'm confident. After this, you put your faith in God, and hunker down. My biggest fear at this point prior to the storm is whether or not I'll see the Eagles game, as I suspect we'll be without power--add that to the list: a portable battery powered TV.

Southbound

***PinF is back after an exhilarating ride. There are 13 postcards on their way to the 13 respondents of the PinF2K celebration...more later ***

After a minor rain delay....PinF is now southbound(to his offices in the Keys). Accompanying PinF is none other than John BV Breeding, on his new 2006 (12 hrs. new) Harley Sportster, hence the rain delay. PinF out.

Pride, Joy and LOVE

Countdown To PinF2k Celebration

UPDATE: PinF is happy to announce he will be sending 13 postcards to three different continents, and 6 different countries! Thanks to all who particpated and watch for those cards! A special congratulations goes out to the Mark Peck and his wife Amy, a frequent visitor and most astute commentator--in recognition of their new born son...I'm not sure but rumour has it his name is Paynter....God bless the little guy.
Welcome! If you're a regular you already know PinF is celebrating his 2,000th visitor. So if your seeing this message it's because PinF will be mailing you a Post Card of thanks from his homebase here in S. Florida, USA. If you've just stumbled upon PinF by chance -- welcome just the same. In celebration of all the worldwide visitors and daily readers PinF has decided to send a Florida Postcard to every visitor to PinF who visits between counter number 1,975 through 2,005 (scroll to bottom to see). So, if this is you-- no matter where you are in the world-- send me your mailing address by clicking here-----> paynterinflorida@safe-mail.net and I'll be sending you greetings from South Florida.

The Keys to Life

PinF has long maintained the surest way to emotional balance is taking time for yourself -- and regularly. Though I haven't always been able to take the time as much as I would like, I have still taken short periods here and there. My summer trip by cycle was a commitment I had made to myself last winter as I worked my way into my new-found single life. This trip was quite therapeutic as it gave me the time I needed to be alone and ponder the meanings of so many different events and changes in my life.

To this ends, the time has come again for a short reprieve of sorts. I will load the VStrom and motor on down the Keys for some R&R. I will take nothing I don't need. Specifically my kit will include an I-Pod, a rain suit, small kit of toiletries and one change of clothing, oh and my camera too. That's it- nothjing more. I will get on the turnpike at 5AM and ride into sunrise with my music in my ears. By 8AM I should be chilling in Key Largo having a Cuban variation of breakfast, my cares behind me and the sun above me. From here I will enjoy my morning Cuban coffee while reading the paper-- hopefully dockside somewhere, keeping to no schedule or person other than my carefree self. From Key Largo I will head further south into the Lower Keys, specifically Marathon and then onto Bahia Honda State Park...this is where the PinF southern offices are located, and from where I will be writing the many PostCards I have to send. This is also where I will make a day of chilling and some snorkeling. I forgot to mention that I will have with me a journal, and a book; they will figure into my day probably from here. After any early water activities I intend to move less than the giant tortoise, occasionally cracking a cold beer, and taking a dip, other than this it'll be a major chill session.

After my relaxing morning/afternoon, I plan on meeting some old friends the MacLaughlin's, for drinks and dinner, where I shall partake of the fresh bounty that is the Keys. This of course will be supplemented by several JW Blacks as well. From here I imagine we'll take in the sunset celebration along Mallory Square in downtown Key West. I'm sure after this I will be visiting a few of the more famous watering holes along the famous Duval Street, more to soothe my thirst for music than my thirst for scotch. I'll spend the night in KW and then get up and do it all over again the next day only heading north this time. This should be a nice easy ride as the speed limits in the Keys really dictate the pace.

Mind you, PinF will have with him the list of PostCard recipients that qualified via "PinF2K", so you can imagine the variety and quality of postcards my recipients will be receiving worldwide. So for those of you caught up in the doldrums of winter, or even fall depending on what hemisphere you're located, PinF will be sending a bit of the Florida sunshine via his PostCards, so submit those names to paynterinflorida@safe-mail.net, and then watch your box.

2000 Friends of PinF !

I happened to notice that PinF is quickly approaching 2000k visits. It's nice to know that there are people spread near and far around the global community who stop in from time to time to see what's got my attention on any given day.

Lately it seems we've been in a glut of catostrophic news stories, what with Katrina, the California wildfires, Pakistan/Kashmir earthquake, and now Guatemala and its devestating floods. This harkens back to what Nation of Islam leader Louis Farakhan stated after Katrina, (most incorrectly and irresponsibly I might add). I had commented on the fact that he had assigned blame for Katrina as God's wrath towards the United States for our policies in the middle east. The recent turn of events in Pakistan and Guatemala has me wondering what God is mad about now? As it appears he is nothing if not an equal opportunity God, spreading suffering and destruction equally throught the Christian, Muslim, and Hindu countries. I'll have to stay tuned to Mr. Farakhan's rantings in the next few days as he is much like the National Inquirer with his bombastic statements, specifically designed to call attention to him and his idealogies.

So, back to the upcoming "visitor 2000" I'm excited, and have been trying to think of something to mark this occasion. I'm considering mailing out some postcards to where ever in the world I receive visits from on this day. And for the actual "visitor 2000"? Not sure, still thinking that one through-- maybe I'll do a PinF biography to be featured on PinF of whomever, from wherever, makes the "2000th" post. So if your a regular, or if you just happen to scroll on by; may I suggest scrolling to the bottom of this page to take a look at the counter to see if in fact you are "the one"?

Judging by my daily visit average, I should hit 2000k on Thursday sometime -- any person from anywhere in the world can leave their address to have a genuine PinF postcard mailed to their corner of the world. I do however have to limit this offer, so lets say anyone who emails their address starting from visitor numbers 1,975 to 2,005, these people will recive a postcard mailed from the PinF offices here in sunny, warm Florida. You can email me your address to paynterinflorida@safe-mail.net. Mind the counter though, no visitor before 1,976 will receive a postcard.

Write on...

PinF welcomed a few new links this week that he wanted to call attention to. Both are well known and accomplished in their own right long before this medium of writing was in vogue. One studied writing; I can remember reading his stories when he was in college about the everyday people and experiences that colored his life. The other, well he was most renowned for his propensity towards the "less is more" style of writing, usually scribing short, succinct letters known more for the amount of questions they asked than the actual information they themselves provided. Still each has quality in their own particular way.

The one who trained in writing never actually used his skill in the convential or obvious manner in which many would have imagined he would, instead he enhanced his abilities by writing his impressions of all things wordly through his other gift - music. He's best known for his musical abilities and showmanship on stage, yet many who don't know him don't realize that the many songs they love, or the numerous CD's he's made were actually his writings come alive. He's talented in voice for sure, but his zeal for singing is inspired by the fact that he is literally singing his stories, instead of just letting people read them. In essence he sings his stories, night in and night out and gets paid to do it. Anyone who knows him, knows he carries a notebook chock full of songs, some he's recorded, some he hopes to, and still others will probably never make it to music. Still he's a writer first; a singer second. So welcome Scott, and to the many who read this you can find him here.

The other added link has also become aware of his writing talents as is illustrated by his works of late. He too has written his thoughts to music, though his chosen path was the exact opposite of Scott's, learning instead to make music first and then to color his music with words. He self taught himself more than 5 instruments and records his music himself. I guess it matters very little whether you write music or stories, so long as you write. In the end it's all one in the same really, as music can speak to a soul as well if not better than any written word can. If you can then put those words to music, well then you're soothing the mind and the spirit, as each of these two have done so well. I know this well- as they are both my brothers, one is very known due his public persona and illuminated career, still the other is lesser known - a fact he actually embraces, as it allows for greater freedom to find his "voice" as he steadily learns more and more. I hope any readers of PinF will take the time to listen to their music, but more importantly hear their words. So welcome also to Bill, his site can be found here, hopefully very soon he'll also post his lyrics.

Praying for Sense

As I sat through mass yesterday, my daughter Sophia by my side, I was struck when during the normal requests for prayers the monotone voice reading them said "for the men and women in the armed forces fighting for peace-- we pray". "fighting for peace"...hmm.

I had to think about this, as I couldn't get a handle on such an oxy-moronic thing to say. Fighting for peace--wow. I was under the impression to fight for peace would be to exhaust all possible avenues within the world community ie: diplomatic options, humanitarian assistance, maybe democratic regime changes. Yet here I was in church of all places where I was encouraged to say prayers in support of fighting. Not that PinF is opposed to war. When they're necessary-(wars)-- I'd be praying for the bullets to hit their marks. Take the Falklands, the Argentinians asked for and got a war. The Taliban-- again, never was there a more deserving and oppresive bunch of punks who deserved to have their asses thumped, I prayed those missiles found their marks as well.

This mess in Iraq is just that-- a mess. No one doubts or denies the danger that fundamentalist Islam poses to the civilzed world. It also goes without saying that Sadaam was a very evil man who committed countless atrocities agains 100's of thousands of people, both in Iraq and to its bordering neighbors (Iran, Kuwait). The problem is, as I open my newspaper every morning and see the wars of calamity befalling this country right here in our midsts (New Orleans, Missisippi, California), is that Iraq was NOT a war we needed to fight. I know, I know, Sadaam gassed 5,000 Kurds...yeah, yeah and he gassed tens of thousands of Iranians too during his war with them(where were all the WMD protestors then?). But what was it specifically that he was poised to do to us? Oh yeah-- WMD's, that's the reason we spent this 200 billion dollars. Kind of funny when all the World Trade Tower attackers came from our so called "ally", (Saudi Arabia), funny how we didn't declare war on them?

My point is this....I opened my Palm Beach Post paper this week and saw the first female soldier was killed in action from Palm Beach County. And what is so strange about this you might ask? Well for some it might be the fact that she was a woman, which in itself is kind of rare in war. Yet that isn't what struck me at all. What struck me as odd and particularly wasteful about this loss of life in particular was just a single sentence in the Palm Beach Post article. This young woman's name was Elizabeth Jacobson, 21 years old. She was by all accounts that I've read, a young lady who had trouble adjusting after her parent's divorce, yet she was beginning to find her direction in life. As I read her story it became clearer that she, like so many others her age was a young woman trying to find her path, unfortunately for her it lead her to the wrong place at the wrong time. She had hopes, dreams, and seemed just as naive as many other 21 year-olds. Yet here I was reading the obituary of a young woman cut down in her prime, another victim of an angry Islamic militant radical with much more hate in his heart than Ms. Jacobson could ever hope to match with the boundless love in her's. She was an airman in the Air Force, not typically a role that would seem to be too dangerous even in a war zone, apparently not so in this case.

Thus Ms. Jacobson became the first female casuality of the war in Iraq from Palm Beach County, a distinction granted her by a flawed policy fighting a sensless war. Oh and that one sentence? By the time she was deployed to Iraq in June, the changes in her were obvious. "I think she really just turned into a woman when she went away," Steinhoff said. Now that's the second oxy-moron concerning this war that I've read in as many days. "...she turned into a woman when she went away...", too bad she had to turn into a dead woman when she went away.