Monthly Archives: June 2019

The lovely lady, jim steele, jimsteeleauthor

The Lovely Lady

On the wall of my office, hangs a beautiful portrait of a lovely young lady. It is the only picture of a woman, other than my wife or family members that I have. If I had to guess, I would say that it will be the only one of “another lady” that would ever be allowed, now or in the future, to reside on any wall in the house, let alone the wall directly opposite my desk. I am confident that the only reason my wife allows it to stay is twofold– the first part being that she knows that, for whatever reason, I like it; and secondly, I am usually the only one in my office, and my dear wife never really has to look at it… at her. “Her”, or that “lady”, a generic descriptive is all that I know of her, of the portrait. I have no idea, nor will I ever, of the origin or name of the lady in the portrait. It is a mystery. She is a mystery. However, to me, it is a grand mystery, one that is better left unsolved. To solve it… to know of her… to place her, would be to ruin her forever.

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stack of books, jim steele, jimsteeleauthor

Heaven Must Be A Gigantic Library Of BOOKS!

 “Books… They transport us to many locations, and we dare not retreat; we beg to go, and clamor to become acquainted with the mysteries held within the binding.”

Since the invention of the PDF and then of the iPad, Kindle, and other E-Reader’s, the debate of which is best- paper versus “books in the cloud” has been going back and forth. I have no dog in this fight, since I simply refuse to be swayed from my opionion that old fashioned paper books are so much better- in so many ways- than a digitized version of the same. In fact, I don’t regard my postition as opinion, I look at it as just another fact of life that some people wish to argue over from the point of view of sheer laziness. 

If YOU are too lazy to physically hold, store, and care for a book- then you might not deserve to read it.

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ball game with dad, jim steele, jimsteeleauthor

A Ballgame With Dad

            Went to a baseball game the other night. Yep, loaded up in the ‘ole family mobile, and headed up north, up to Indianapolis. Went to the Indians game; had pretty good seats too, Row “S”, seats 12 and 13, behind the Indians dugout. It was the third, and probably the last, baseball game of this year that I’ll be able to go to. It being later on in the year and all. 

            At the last minute, my little fella was unable to go. Sometime 10 year old priorities can change at the drop of a hat, though I really can’t understand what could be more important than a ballgame. So instead of my boy, I took an old friend along to the ballpark. Well, the game started at 5:00 pm, so we left Seymour around 2:30’ish, I really don’t like to be late. No, I like to have plenty of time to mess around, get a bit to eat, find a parking space, and still beat the crowd. That being said, I took a wrong turn off of I-70, and burned up my “messing around time” getting turned back around, and heading in the right direction. Well, I finally got my bearings straight, and found my way to the parking garage. 

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Keith Whitley, Booze, Country Music, jim steele, jimsteeleautor

Booze, Religion, and the Misfortune of it all …

I insist on hanging out in bars. It will ultimately be to my detriment and part of me knows this. Still- at times, I can’t help myself.

I neither feel good or bad inside the all too comfortable confines of these establishments, I’m just “there”. I rarely go to any that are within my home zip code- preferring instead some kind of anonymity. I’m not sure that the effort pays any dividends for it is painfully clear to all within the place that, upon my arrival and then demeanor, a non-drinker; more specifically, a recovering alcoholic is within the midst of an otherwise good time. But, I can say that if I were to go to my former haunts, the chances of my actually starting to drink again, due to peer pressure and out and out memories, would be far too great. I can’t really have that, besides- to drink or start drinking again is not what I’m after. Actually, it’s the last thing that I’m after…

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Jim Steele, The Wrong Turn, Jimsteeleauthor.com, Travel, Indiana

The Wrong Turn

I ran through a stop sign today. Went right through it without ever looking. That’s bad, Į know. That’s a really bad thing. I wish I had it to do over again, maybe I’d… No, I’m sure I would stop if I had it all to do over again. But, like everything else in life, there are no do-overs. You do it once, and it’s done. Whatever that may be.

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Jim Steele, Jimsteeleauthor.com, Jimmy Buffet, Hurricae Season

Hurricane Season

Driving down the road the other day, I was struck by how wonderfully beautiful a day it was. A nice blue sky, done fluffy, white clouds. It’s at times like this that a guy thinks, wow, what did I do to deserve this? Cruising down the road, wind in my hair… Alright. So I look over to my radio, all good times like this need a soundtrack, and start dialing in the tunes. Now here’s the really good part, I’ve got one of those new Sirius satellite radios. Now– I’m sitting here thinking, “what would be something good to listen to”? Let’s make a short list; end of summer wide open highway, no place special to be, good lookin’ Senorita ridin’ next to me. Easy… Buffet.

Jimmy Buffet

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Life and Life’s Lessons by the Bay

I awoke this morning to a sharp realization in which I compared my time in San Francisco this last year alongside the personal relationships in my life… of family, friends, and acquaintances. I mean, we’re all interconnected to some degree, and at different junctures, the severity and/or intimacy only depending on the particular person or relationship in question. If this weren’t the case, then how would we be related at all?

At any rate– I was struck by the recollection that even though I spent approximately 4 months in San Francisco, known by the locals as “the City”, I was dismayed for not having pursued the City’s identity sooner.

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Jim Steele, Robert Frost, Poetry, Rose Pogonias, A Boy's Will

Rose Pogonias

~Robert Frost, A Boy’s Will, 1913

A saturated meadow,
Sun-shaped and jewel-small,
A circle scarcely wider
Than the trees around were tall;
Where winds were quite excluded,
And the air was stifling sweet
With the breath of many flowers,
A temple of the heat.

There we bowed us in the burning,
As the sun’s right worship is,
To pick where none could miss them
A thousand orchises;
For though the grass was scattered,
yet every second spear
Seemed tipped with wings of color,
That tinged the atmosphere.

We raised a simple prayer
Before we left the spot,
That in the general mowing
That place might be forgot;
Or if not all so favored,
Obtain such grace of hours,
that none should mow the grass there
While so confused with flowers.

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Jim Steele, Freddie, Dogs, Cabins, River, Summertime, Indiana

Dogs & People, In No Particular Order

There are times that I sit and wonder just what the hell is wrong with me, and for that matter, with the world in general. I’m nearly certain that, after 45 years on the planet, that things shouldn’t be as they more often than not turn out… and if so, then not only are we all destined to be screw ups, but so will our kids and grandkids. The main problem is that people seem to refuse that others among and around them have feelings. We complain that there is a lack of empathy and a blasé attitude toward the human condition; however, when it comes right down to it– most people could give two shits less about their fellow man, and more than a few will admit that to you freely… upon request. And yet, we think that, somehow, we deserve more…

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