Thursday, November 8, 2012

Where Have I Been????

Bob Dylan - A Hard Rain's a Gonna Fall

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
And where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it,
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
I heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
And who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was woundedin hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest dark forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
And the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where the souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and speak itand think it and breathe it,
And reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,
And I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.



Standard YouTube License

If you don't like Bob Dylan, and my link doesn't work, I imagine you skipped to the meat of the update. At least read the lyrics of this beautiful poem that tells it like it is.  

I know I haven't blogged in a while.  I had no intention to stop blogging.  I have plenty to blog about, the problem is I just haven't had the time.  For the past year and a half(almost) I have been working as a (check this out - I have a title) Moderation Specialist.  If I told you too much about it, you'd have to be silenced, so I will divulge as much information as I can with no need for the drastic measures.  I am kidding, not threatening, but I can only say so much. Our anonymity is important.  

I have joined the IIAD.  Internet Internal Affairs Division. No that isn't the name of the company. But the gist of my work is to read and moderate comments on blogs and forums on the internet.  If you've read an online newspaper lately you'd have seen the blogs that allow readers to comment about articles.  Facebook and Twitter also have many accounts that allow comments, sponsor contests, etc.  If you've read any of those comments, you probably can see why moderation is a necessity.  People have a tendency to get ugly, vent, throw blame around, among other tendencies when they can post things anonymously.  Someone has to babysit them and keep them in line by removing unacceptable comments.

At the age of 59, living in México, and still ? years away from my pensioncito? and SS??, I am pleasantly shocked to have found a job at all, let alone work that is perfect for me.  Hey, remember, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. That's me. I'm a survivor. Even though I didn't choose ONE career, I'm pleased to know that my jack of all trades life experiences would qualify me for a job in the new milennium.  A job, by the way, that has only been in existence since the great internet boom.  Yes, folks, I lucked into this job and have been giving it my all this past year or so.  The first few months there was so much to learn that I had no creative brain cells to use for writing. I crammed my head with procedures, rules, regs, and how to handle the numerous types of accounts and situations that need moderation.

The next few months were a different kind of crazy. Pablo and I have a project (next blog) that was taking a lot of money to complete, so my earnings went to our 'beach project'.  Once I learned several functions, I could cover for others when needed. I also started picking up more regular hours.

With the recent presidential election the blogs and forums have gone crazy.  Truthfully, crazy might not be a strong enough word.  Superstorm Sandy also created a vent outlet for the survivors, and for those who had internet, a place to find answers to many questions. 

This year I have picked up all the extra work available, and as is the usual for me, I dove way too deep into the darkness and found myself with closer to 60 hours a week. This much work doesn't leave me much free time to go out and have fun, which would be nice, if only I had any energy after working a 6,8,10, or 12 hr shift.  

Today is the first entire day off I've had in a couple months. I know, I COULD say no.  When the going gets weird, the weird must get going. Plus when the harvest is ready one must reap. Everything could change tomorrow. What if a solar flare X15 (?) wiped out the internet!  Who knows, really?  

My goal is to work my ass off til the end of the year, and then resume a more normal schedule after the holidays, so I have time to write. I'm itching to write.  I am currently missing those lucid moments when my brain isn't clouded with comments and far too much news intake. 

What have I been up to?  My ears in work. This year I have done many necessary repairs and maintenance on the house and pool.  I've kept up with my other responsibilities, like spending time with my mate and the commando of cats, keeping up with laundry and ( mostly) crock pot cooking.  Of course there were the costly annual fees of the resident visa and the fidecomiso (trust payment for owning a house here)......totaling $1300 USD.  When I had time I spent several hours and visits to the immigration office, paying bills, running errands, etc.  My favorite HOBBY right now, sad to say, is watching TV.  We bought a 42" tv and somehow that makes everything all better. Unfortunately after reading and concentrating on the computer for hours and hours, I don't have the brain cells or eyes (white line fever, it's called) to spend more time on the internet for personal reasons. Thus, friends, forgive me for not keeping in touch.  I've been working successfully on survival, and my usually unattainable position of not having to worry so much about how I'm going to make it! Here or anywhere!  In conclusion, I have arrived at the much desired 'be happy, don't worry' state of mind I came here to find five and a half years ago.  :-)

Oh, and why the song? It expresses things I have seen in my lifetime and reflects those feelings.  It also summarized so much of what I've read in the news about the shape of our world, our planet,  and its inhabitants right now in the present.