Lyrics Post: “Better Way”

The first time I heard this song I was inspired. The words encourage, fortify. The music builds, layered, energized. Let it fill you, spur you on.

BETTER WAY

“I’m a living sunset

Lightning in my bones

Push me to the edge

But my will is stone

Fools will be fools

And wise will be wise

But i will look this world

Straight in the eyes

What good is a man

Who won’t take a stand

What good is a cynic

With no better plan

Reality is sharp

It cuts at me like a knife

Everyone i know

Is in the fight of their life

Take your face out of your hands

And clear your eyes

You have a right to your dreams

And don’t be denied

I believe in a better way”

Written by Ben Harper

Special Post: Hamlet’s Soliloquy, Act I, Scene ii

Written some 500 years ago, learned personally in an English Lit class some 40 years ago.

This from none other than William Shakespeare. As profiled in Wikipedia, “An English playwright, poet, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world’s greatest dramatist. He is often called England’s national poet and the “Bard of Avon.”

And so this stream of conscious spoken aloud early in the play, how tortured our man Hamlet is, setting the stage for what’s to come. The dude was decidedly NOT happy.

“O, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d

His canon* ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fie on’t! ah fie! ’tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:

So excellent a king; that was, to this,

Hyperion* to a satyr; so loving to my mother

That he might not beteem* the winds of heaven

Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!

Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,

As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on: and yet, within a month–

Let me not think on’t–Frailty, thy name is woman!– A little month, or ere* those shoes were old

With which she follow’d my poor father’s body,

Like Niobe (1), all tears:–why she, even she–

O, God! a beast, that wants* discourse of reason, Would have mourn’d longer–married with my uncle, My father’s brother, but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules (2): within a month:

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

Had left the flushing in her galled* eyes,

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not nor it cannot come to good:

But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.”

1 A mythological figure who when her children were killed.

2A mythological hero of great strength.

130 *law

135

139 *the sun god

*allow

145 *before

*lacks

151

*inflamed 156

Special Thanks to Cecil Criger for the intro all those years ago.

Captain Napkin

Thank Goodness for Daughter Number Two, a.k.a., “Captain Napkin”…!

Last night she disappeared into a bedroom and emerged a few minutes later saying, “I was helping Mom fold the napkins. I just love doing that.” I think she also said it helps her relax(!).

And so I got to thinking, “Do what you can; do a bit, here and there, chip away, even if the list is long and getting longer.

Do what you can. Like Captain Napkin.

#halffullallgood #parenting #dadlife #dadslife #gratitude

Gratitude Post

I’m a big fan of gratitude. In fact, I believe the so-called “attitude of gratitude” is fundamental to a happy life.

So in that vein, this Gratitude Post is a simple, heart-felt THANKS! to all y’all out there who have visited the halffullallgood.com blog, have given a “Like”, or shared a post with others.

This month has enjoyed the most visitors to the blog in the last twelve months…so, THANK YOU! MUCHAS GRACIAS! СПАСИБО БОЛЬШОЕ!

I really appreciate the support. Keep spreading the GOOD.

Lyrics Post: “This Land Is Your Land”

“From my youth to now, many decades later, this song speaks. And through its many renditions, this song speaks to us. To those who will listen. For those who yearn, and believe. Thank You, Woody.

“This land is your land, this land is my land

From California to the New York island

From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters

This land was made for you and me

As I was walking that ribbon of highway

I saw above me that endless skyway

I saw below me that golden valley

This land was made for you and me

I’ve roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps

To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts

And all around me a voice was sounding

This land was made for you and me

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling

And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling

As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting

This land was made for you and me

As I went walking I saw a sign there

And on the sign it said “No Trespassing”

But on the other side it didn’t say nothing

That side was made for you and me

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people

By the relief office I seen my people

As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking

Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me

As I go walking that freedom highway

Nobody living can ever make me turn back

This land was made for you and me”

Writer(s): Woody Guthrie

Let The Noise Go

Let the noise go. Life’s too short to let that noise distract you for long. Let it go, fall away, “like water off a duck’s back,” so the saying goes.

It takes a certain strength I think, To let acknowledge whatever “it” is, and feel some of what it offers, and then, THEN, let it go.

What is the noise?

Divisive rhetoric, negative attitudes, gently grating relationships, loud little kids, a meeting that doesn’t resolve its intended purpose, etc. You get the idea, right?

If it might bring you down, it might be noise I’m talking about.

LET IT GO.

And then circle back to what matters, and get after it.

A Dad’s Life, Friday Night

Long week in the rear-view, some challenges, some big news, some fun, all in the wake.

This morning’s random breakfast, left-over kid’s dinner plus a cheese stick.

A Dad’s Breakfast. Fortified for the day.

Twelve hours later, whirlwind workday done, lots of learning — always good — and glad the day, the week is done.

And then a Friday Night after breakfast-for-dinner, it’s couch time with The Three, and a little PBS Kids, streaming to the flat screen.

And…

WILD KRATTS!

*HALLOWEEN* WILD KRATTS —

And into the weekend we go…one last question from my son before bed, “What do dogs eat…”, a classic stall tactic.

And then it’s quiet. Just the nightlight splashing gently into the bedroom,

and a few rustles from the kids’ room, and…GOOD.