C.G.Ayling

Category: Random Musings

Random thoughts, from a random mind – mine. I’m fairly confident my viewpoint differs from that of the majority.

  • Three versions of truth.

    As I climbed into the front seat of the car for the ride to school, my daughter Julia nudged me and said “I wanted to sit in the front.”

    Ignoring her, I climbed in and responded “You might want to, but you’re not going to.”

    Julia clambered into the back seat of my wife’s Altima, mumbling “One day I’m gonna.”

    Naturally {for this is the way of things in our household} , I responded “You’re not gonna.”  I felt no need to complete the correction, Julia is sharp as a tack.

    My wife leapt into the fray, words blazing across the darkness like bright rounds of tracer, “You mean ‘going to’.”

    Mistakenly thinking she was agreeing with me, I nodded in satisfaction at her unexpected support and said “Yes, that’s what I said.”

    “No”, she responded, “You said ‘you’re gonna’.”

    Belatedly I realized she had probably not heard Julia’s mumbled words, and that her tracer had been aimed square at me – her intended victim,  {Are you starting feel sympathy for my plight yet, for I surely am.}  I held up the white flag of truce in vain hope of a peaceful resolution to her unwarranted, pre-emptive attack on the innocent, and explained “I said I’m going to.  Julia said I’m gonna.”

    Julia corrected me, “You said ‘you’re not gonna’”, and indeed I had…

    I shook my head, lowered reason’s weary flag, and sighed in wounded knee.  Yes, terrible things were done in times past – I know, I watched the video with my son.   In fact, I’m ashamed to admit I committed a few atrocities myself.  How times have changed, my kids can’t have a bush pig for a pet.  Bacon, is such a sweet animal.  My tea tastes bitter, I really dislike not having time enough to steep it…

    My wife interrupted my reverie, “Your problem is that you’ve got so many voices inside your head you don’t know which one’s speaking aloud”.

    Blinking in surprise, voice portraying my inner calm, I said “My head is filled with serene tranquility.”

    Delight in her voice, Julia murmured “Oh, you mean a void?”

    I laughed, as I often do to hide grievous pain {well actually I thought Julia was really witty, but this is my version of the truth, so I’m the protagonist}.

    My wife snorted, “Sometimes you’re such a fool…”

    Julia added, “Yes, an impetulant fool.”

    Lips curling in a sardonic smile, I entered my preferred mode of defense – attack, and exclaimed “HAH!  Impetulant is not even a word!  But I like it… you should use it more often.”

    We drove on, everyone chuckling at their inner thoughts – three people, three versions of truth.

    {footnote, my wife is really not the wicked person I intimate she is. However this is my blog, and my ever so slightly modified version of reality – and, well, having an antagonist is fun!  Frankly, I think I’m remarkably generous in granting her that much sought after role in many of my little tales.}

    {footnote to a footnote. Did I happen to mention they’re all the pure, embellished truth? They are :).)

    {footnote to the footnote, of a footnote. Nope, I’ve got nothing… just liked the way that looked.  What’s that up there, there, at the top of the page… I think it says smaple, or something with an s, can’t quite make it out. Ha! got you again!}

  • Fried Green Tomatoes.


    This morning my wife dragged me upstairs, enslaved me, then forced me to clean up my tools – which had mysteriously begun accumulating in the kitchen.

    After my release from this barbaric and prolonged internment, (it must have taken nearly five minutes!), I looked at her hopefully and said “I’d love some fried green tomatoes for breakfast.”

    Steel gray eyes glinting, she responded “And I’d love you to mop the floor.”

    Turning away, I started toward the stairs, murmuring, “I’ve lost my appetite”, in piteous tone.

    A chuckle, a derisive snort, “Thought of cooking has robbed you of your appetite?  Poor boy.”

    Deliberately misunderstanding her callous coldness for sympathy, I responded “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll get it back… as soon as you’ve finished mopping the floor.”

  • Inner Conflicts.

    I believe we’re almost universally filled with these strange little inner conflicts, perhaps they even aid in defining human nature.  Today, I’m considering how we value our individuality, while actively trying to fit in.

    Our upbringing might well seed this particular conflict.  Even before we start school, our parents encourage us to be imaginative – they express avid delight in our every word and deed, while telling us how special we are.  Then, they insist we conform to whatever their “normal” is – maybe that’s our table manners, or the way we greet our elders, or following their religious observances.  Though none of this is bad, it certainly sows the seeds of conflict.

    Then our early education begins.  Now, we’re constantly told how valuable imagination and originality are, while being subjected to an endless barrage of tests to see how well we conform to “normal”.  Personally, I think this type of educational system stinks – unfortunately, in the USA my children have access to no other.

    What a confusing world for the young…  No wonder kids dress in crazy clothes, dye and cut their hair into bizarre styles, then graduate to cover their flesh in piercings and tattoos, or worse.  Their desire to be unique is so powerful it approaches despair.

    We deprive our children of creative outlet by stripping arts programs from schools to save someone a dime.  We enforce mediocrity by compelling our kids to “do well” in school, AKA conforming to the one size fits all mentality.  We lower the academic bar to the lowest common denominator, then measure their scholastic success by how well they imitate their peers.  Sad.

    Society values originality, yet it demands conformity.

    It took me over fifty years to learn writing grants my inner demons escape.  Malmaxa, my first novel, reveals some of them.  How long has it taken you to find release?  If you’re yet to attain it, how long do you anticipate waiting?

  • You heard what?

    Language is crucial to modern man, without which we probably would never have developed further than extended family units.  However, effective communication is much more than mere words arranged into an understandable order.  Indeed, my suspicion is that during primitive man’s early development non-verbal signals received significantly greater attention.

    As language improved, the need for these other skills gradually diminished, reducing them to the subliminal.  However, they’re still there and we still rely on them.  We just no longer pay them conscious heed, perhaps even training ourselves to ignore them – from the mistaken belief that words are all we truly need.  Sadly, the only time this comes close to truth is in the hands of masterful writers.  For the rest of us, the things we say are often a jumbled, incoherent mess understandable only due to instinctual understanding of the non-verbal communications accompanying the gibberish pouring from our mouths.

    According to my wife, and she is right far more often, I said this “I can’t believe how bad these pictures on the TV is.”  Quite rightly, Suzanne called me out – gleefully repeating what she thought I had said.  (Perhaps a little less gleefully than I would have, had it been her who made the error, but there was significant delight.)  After listening to her echoing what she thought I had said, I indignantly exclaimed, “I would never say that!”

    And indeed, I never would – intentionally.  Unfortunately, sometimes our mouths betray our minds, uttering things we aren’t thinking.  (Take that as an admission if you like, subliminally it seems to be one…)  After a few enjoyable minutes of indignation butting heads with glee, and neither gaining ground, my youngest child walked in.

    Appreciating the value of a first strike, I immediately turned to Julia and said “Mom says I said ‘I can’t believe how bad these pictures on the TV is.’”  Julia’s disbelieving eyes sufficed to halt any further explanation.

    Appalled, Julia turned to her mother and asserted “Dad would never say something like that!”

    Since appalled disbelief more closely matches indignation than glee, I immediately claimed victory.  Was I right, or was Suzanne wrong?  In truth, I think we were both correct – sometimes what you think you’re saying isn’t what the listener hears.

  • Love vs. Hate

    In humanity, the theme of opposing forces appears often.  Is this because we’re drawn to conflict?  Or perhaps because we hold Newton’s third law, “To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”, to hold greater truth than its description of the purely physical?

    Though I’m inclined to believe it’s both, the second holds an elegant truth the first lacks.  Look at love versus hate.

    Love know no limits, it expands the heart.  You can’t run out of love, there’s always enough left to wrap another within its warmth.  The more love you give, the more you have to spare.

    Hate is compulsive and single-minded.  It focuses you, limiting you by shriveling your heart.  The more intensely you hate, the less capacity you have for compassion and love.

    Equal, and opposite?

  • Appropriate Language.

    My middle daughter has a cat named “Kaiya”, we have a female dog named “Bacon”.  After an initially, shall we say …frosty, relationship they are now the best of friends.

    Anyway, my youngest daughter took Bacon for a walk.  On her return she told me, in a shocked voice “Bacon tried to chase a cat!”

    I looked at her deadpan, and said “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised – the cat probably took one look at Bacon and hissed ‘Hey, aren’t you Kaiya’s bitch?’”

    My daughter thought it was almost as funny as I did.  My wife scowled and accused me of teaching my 13 year old bad language…

  • Perceptions, of Time.

    Time is something which fascinates me.  You see I don’t believe time actually exists.  Yes, we have mechanisms to measure this “thing” very precisely.  Almost everything we do is somehow tied to time.  Yet there is nothing we can do to change it.

    Here is an interesting mental problem.  If we could travel faster than the speed of light and we travelled away from the earth while training an infinitely powerful telescope upon it, we would witness events that happened in the past.  In a manner of speaking, or thinking, we would be “overtaking the past” or travelling “back in time”.

    Now what would happen if we did this for a year, then turned around and raced back toward the earth, still faster than the speed of light?  When we turned around wouldn’t we be a year in the past?  Or, would a year have passed?

  • Back home!

    I just returned home, after a long, stress filled week away from home.

    Anyway, sitting in the garage with my two younger kids and my wife {she retires to the garage to smoke – a horrific habit, but at least she doesn’t pollute the house, that’s love for you!}  We’re all busy ragging my youngest daughter about a boy friend who is shorter than her…

    “He’s just a friend, and a boy!”

    Methinks thou dost protest too much…  I made the observation that all my girls seem attracted to males they can dominate.  As she often does, Julia immediately turned the tables on me by smiling conspiratorially at her mother, and saying “Why did you pick dad, Mom?”

    I turned toward my wife with an arched eyebrow.  After a deadpan minute, she says “Because I thought he was going to die soon.”  {Since she was my nurse, and I was indeed expected to die, there is a significant truth in her words.}

    WELL, WELL, WELL…  🙂 – it turns out I had the last laugh on her!  I somehow managed to survive – we recently celebrated our Silver Wedding anniversary.

  • Bird-Brained?

    Ever been called a “bird brain”?  Well, though the person using the phrase might have intended it as an insult let us look at it from a different perspective.

    Birds do indeed have rather small brains.  Yet into those minuscule craniums, they have some rather impressive processing power packed…

    Can you even imagine the control needed to successfully fly?  No, we can’t blow flying off as “instinct” – baby birds have to be taught how to fly by their parents.

    And then there is their amazing ability to find their way back to their nest.  Let’s put that into perspective as well.  Imagine yourself in a city with no road markings, no street signs, no neatly mapped out grid lines where everything is painted the same color.  Got that?  OK, now add hundreds of levels, with paths interconnecting levels in a truly haphazard fashion, along with everything changing from day to day.  Still comfortable with your chances of finding the cubicle you call home?  OK, now let’s add scale to the story – this multi-level maze extends for miles.  Still think you could find your way home – if you do you’re a lot brighter than me, or an even more delusional than I am – and that is saying something!

    In case you’re wondering what circumstance in a bird’s life I have just described – it is this…  Many birds make their nests in trees, which are filled with branches going in all directions, as well as constantly growing, forking into new branches, breaking, dropping and changing color.  Yet somehow these creatures, with a brain often significantly smaller than a pea, can somehow find their way home.  I call that impressive!

    Bird brained?  In my dreams, maybe…

  • elemenoh

    One of age’s rewards is the little memories that bring a smile, for example the way in which my children have learnt the alphabet…

    You know, the sing-along version… aye bee see dee eee ef gee and so on.  Well, without fail all four of them at first believed that “elemenoh” was a single letter :).

    Since it is sung that way, I never had the heart to dissuade them (besides it made me laugh then, just as it does now).