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November 2008 
Shapes - Final Letter to Bruce Kelton
Posted on May 8th, 2004
by 
Jahrun
Jahrun
Bruce {
Here I am writing to you instead of my mother for Mother's day, but oh bother, you know I don't like subscribing to advertised holiday occasion, albeit I am not running off to the store to buy something for the women in my life anyway. The increasing commercialization that replaces true sacred sentimental reflection and celebration has been a point of discontented observation that I had begun even as a child. But, along the way, I've certainly had other influential persons and experiences that have served to expand and shape my concepts and awareness of the big ruse.
You, Bruce, have been one of the more significant friends and influences that I have had in the last 3 years since we met. The themes have not always been (if ever) relaxing, as the realizations grow about the world of politics and society around us. Mix financial angst, broken family, stir-in crazy women, add extraordinary yard work, and health issues without insurance on top of that and there seems to have been no hope of really ever relaxing and truly enjoying the moment without having something to worry over. Don't get me wrong. I do relax, but as I you, I too worry about the future as it applies to the world, my children and my general near-term well being; sometimes even to the point of reaching an ongoing but sublime panic that drives general manic, and even self-destructive behaviors.
You and I are very much alike. Evangelists to be sure. But sometimes we preach too much to the choir about the world around us and ignore our own self-discipline issues. You, yourself said it when I told you how I was up till 2 the other night. You've had plenty of advice to offer me and I've taken more of it than I have from anyone else. Why? Because I respect your intellect, and too, your years of diverse experience and personal history. But, I have had an increasingly less enjoyable time when getting together lately. My anxiety goes through the roof, partly because the hope of any good conversation is trampled. No extended idea can be laid out without having to shout "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" to hold the podium. The greater the attention span for listening the more can be learned, and I've listened plenty to you, as have you me, but there seems no curbing the rambling and interruptions. Can you settle down? My anxious energy is an amplified response to your own. And, all this talk! Where is the action? Today a vegetarian and tomorrow an omnivore cooking-up ribs. Today a guest speaker on the Bush administration undoing decades of environmental progress, and I find your litter out in the meadow. Are these the kinds of things you taught in Montessori? Grabbing? Scribbling on other's work. Interrupting them? Slovenliness? Hypocrisy?
Hey, don't get me wrong. I've had bouts of not being able to live-up to my own standards that push me to be increasingly self-righteous, bossy and controlling of everyone else. Takes one to know one! The whole boomerang incident was the whipped cream on the pie in my face for continuing to subject myself to the burgeoning anxiety and frustration over the unconstructiveness of getting together. I've reflected and have been unsettled since driving-off the other day to some old ragtime tune on the heels of hearing you tell me over and over about the boomerang's poor function and how I must hold it. . . climaxing when I decided to JUST TRY IT THE OTHER WAY to see for myself. Meanwhile you're ranting-on despite my 3 announcements of intention. . . then you start trying to grab it from me? Hey! why should I take it for granted that YOU are telling me to throw it properly for its different design? After looking at the fins and seeing the aerodynamics, seeing its downward behavior and finally getting to throw it the way that I WANTED TO . . . showed me the truth. "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" OK, Mr. Oz.
I hope your finger is OK. I am sorry for accidentally grazing your left pinky on my way to slap your leg with that thing, but, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce . . . you were the only dodo bird around and since you insisted on my throwing it the incorrect way anyway, seems you were the only possible target with that thing. But, really, ease-up on your preaching and do something other than upset everyone. Maybe just listening and shutting your blathering Texas yap for 5 minutes would help sometime too. Anyway, you are right. Just as you've left and lost friends along the way, I've lost a few people in my endeavors, partly because I EXPECT MORE (just like you say we should do) and partly because of my choices in soliciting TALKERS and INCOMPETENTS instead of intelligent visionaries that actually produce something. Those that did help me with Amber, namely you, Anthony, Cathy and Dan Johnston, were paid as much as I could afford at that time to express my gratification with, not just their assistance, but their delivery. In fact, I almost always pay you for your help on things, in addition to just plain appreciating your help as a believer and friend and knowing you need help too.
Do the Idiot Factor! Go write! Write the newspapers! Write the radio 91.3. Stop spending your repetitiousness about everything in your scared little hermit world on Dennis, Gary, Pat, clueless Chris, and everyone else. Stop talking and start chalking. I support you. Amber has always been in the interest of helping to support your own stories. I am still your friend, but simply cannot subject myself to the anxiety of your increasing senility, self-righteousness and downright rudeness, especially when there is other company. . . by the way; I never did get to tell you what Cherie had to say. Bailed Enron execs and traders are coming through the cracks of nepotism at her company and she is being unethically pushed-out. She is gearing to bring charges against Pacific Power (Scottish Power) for unequal pay and blowing the cover on their Enron infiltration.
Now, about the tiller. . . Do you want me to bring it over? I have a few other jobs to do that will require my short-term use of a truck, so I was thinking about renting a U-Haul for a day sometime next week. Do you want that garden tilled or not? I've offered twice now to till it for you. Offer is still open. I was thinking today that I wanted to dig-up another garden spot here and that I need a tiller of my own. Maybe I could buy it from you and just bring it by to till yours when you need it done??? Just another possibility if you'd rather have the cash. Tires are good now that the tubes were put in. Or you can pick it up. Let me know.
} Dennis
Here I am writing to you instead of my mother for Mother's day, but oh bother, you know I don't like subscribing to advertised holiday occasion, albeit I am not running off to the store to buy something for the women in my life anyway. The increasing commercialization that replaces true sacred sentimental reflection and celebration has been a point of discontented observation that I had begun even as a child. But, along the way, I've certainly had other influential persons and experiences that have served to expand and shape my concepts and awareness of the big ruse.
You, Bruce, have been one of the more significant friends and influences that I have had in the last 3 years since we met. The themes have not always been (if ever) relaxing, as the realizations grow about the world of politics and society around us. Mix financial angst, broken family, stir-in crazy women, add extraordinary yard work, and health issues without insurance on top of that and there seems to have been no hope of really ever relaxing and truly enjoying the moment without having something to worry over. Don't get me wrong. I do relax, but as I you, I too worry about the future as it applies to the world, my children and my general near-term well being; sometimes even to the point of reaching an ongoing but sublime panic that drives general manic, and even self-destructive behaviors.
You and I are very much alike. Evangelists to be sure. But sometimes we preach too much to the choir about the world around us and ignore our own self-discipline issues. You, yourself said it when I told you how I was up till 2 the other night. You've had plenty of advice to offer me and I've taken more of it than I have from anyone else. Why? Because I respect your intellect, and too, your years of diverse experience and personal history. But, I have had an increasingly less enjoyable time when getting together lately. My anxiety goes through the roof, partly because the hope of any good conversation is trampled. No extended idea can be laid out without having to shout "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" to hold the podium. The greater the attention span for listening the more can be learned, and I've listened plenty to you, as have you me, but there seems no curbing the rambling and interruptions. Can you settle down? My anxious energy is an amplified response to your own. And, all this talk! Where is the action? Today a vegetarian and tomorrow an omnivore cooking-up ribs. Today a guest speaker on the Bush administration undoing decades of environmental progress, and I find your litter out in the meadow. Are these the kinds of things you taught in Montessori? Grabbing? Scribbling on other's work. Interrupting them? Slovenliness? Hypocrisy?
Hey, don't get me wrong. I've had bouts of not being able to live-up to my own standards that push me to be increasingly self-righteous, bossy and controlling of everyone else. Takes one to know one! The whole boomerang incident was the whipped cream on the pie in my face for continuing to subject myself to the burgeoning anxiety and frustration over the unconstructiveness of getting together. I've reflected and have been unsettled since driving-off the other day to some old ragtime tune on the heels of hearing you tell me over and over about the boomerang's poor function and how I must hold it. . . climaxing when I decided to JUST TRY IT THE OTHER WAY to see for myself. Meanwhile you're ranting-on despite my 3 announcements of intention. . . then you start trying to grab it from me? Hey! why should I take it for granted that YOU are telling me to throw it properly for its different design? After looking at the fins and seeing the aerodynamics, seeing its downward behavior and finally getting to throw it the way that I WANTED TO . . . showed me the truth. "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" OK, Mr. Oz.
I hope your finger is OK. I am sorry for accidentally grazing your left pinky on my way to slap your leg with that thing, but, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce . . . you were the only dodo bird around and since you insisted on my throwing it the incorrect way anyway, seems you were the only possible target with that thing. But, really, ease-up on your preaching and do something other than upset everyone. Maybe just listening and shutting your blathering Texas yap for 5 minutes would help sometime too. Anyway, you are right. Just as you've left and lost friends along the way, I've lost a few people in my endeavors, partly because I EXPECT MORE (just like you say we should do) and partly because of my choices in soliciting TALKERS and INCOMPETENTS instead of intelligent visionaries that actually produce something. Those that did help me with Amber, namely you, Anthony, Cathy and Dan Johnston, were paid as much as I could afford at that time to express my gratification with, not just their assistance, but their delivery. In fact, I almost always pay you for your help on things, in addition to just plain appreciating your help as a believer and friend and knowing you need help too.
Do the Idiot Factor! Go write! Write the newspapers! Write the radio 91.3. Stop spending your repetitiousness about everything in your scared little hermit world on Dennis, Gary, Pat, clueless Chris, and everyone else. Stop talking and start chalking. I support you. Amber has always been in the interest of helping to support your own stories. I am still your friend, but simply cannot subject myself to the anxiety of your increasing senility, self-righteousness and downright rudeness, especially when there is other company. . . by the way; I never did get to tell you what Cherie had to say. Bailed Enron execs and traders are coming through the cracks of nepotism at her company and she is being unethically pushed-out. She is gearing to bring charges against Pacific Power (Scottish Power) for unequal pay and blowing the cover on their Enron infiltration.
Now, about the tiller. . . Do you want me to bring it over? I have a few other jobs to do that will require my short-term use of a truck, so I was thinking about renting a U-Haul for a day sometime next week. Do you want that garden tilled or not? I've offered twice now to till it for you. Offer is still open. I was thinking today that I wanted to dig-up another garden spot here and that I need a tiller of my own. Maybe I could buy it from you and just bring it by to till yours when you need it done??? Just another possibility if you'd rather have the cash. Tires are good now that the tubes were put in. Or you can pick it up. Let me know.
} Dennis
Access: Public
