He walks in small, shuffled steps. Though only 30-ish, he moves like he’s 70-ish.
Not because he isn’t capable or physically able. No, it’s in his mind where the problem lies. The mental energy that once caused the body to skip ahead in purposeful, gliding strides has long dissipated.

“Do your best – success will come.”

“Treat others as you want to be treated.”

“Do the right thing.”

“Remember please and thank you.”

“Make the world a better place.”

Living a life guided by such doctrine has made others happy. It has even made some successful. Two adjectives which can’t be used to describe him.

For sometime ago, he met the creature. It was burnt, hurt, dying. He should have walked away. No he should have pretended to not see the creature and moved purposely ahead. But he couldn’t.

“Treat others as you want to be treated.”

“Do the right thing.”

He’d like to think that it was compassion that extended his arm out. But he doesn’t know. All he can remember is giving some of himself to the creature. Saving the creature. Treating the creature to some of the sweetest nourishment it would ever find. Addicting it to it.

Now the creature has grown big, powerful, and uncontrollable. It draws nourishment from many. Yet it never forgot the taste of the first drink that gave it a second chance to live. It returns, time and time again. And it takes not only his vitality. But also his hope. His happiness. His dreams of success. Because he can’t stop the creature from taking what it wants. And all it wants is all he has to give.

Painfully he shuffles on.

I went to meet an old, dear friend in West LA yesterday. We had a good lunch and lots of great conversation. After leaving, I found myself in typical West LA traffic – after sitting in my truck for half an hour, I was still within walking distance to the restaurant!

Going left, going right, I wound my way through the neighborhood side roads until, I thought, I could finally be free of the gridlock and on my out of this epicenter of civilization.

Then, ahead, right on the apex of the corner where a right turn would put me onto a flowing escape route, a deep black SUV was stopped. Four doors burst open, four or five bodies flew out. But one of the bodies was being helped down, soon to be laid on the sidewalk. Trapped, I watched as the LA Fire Department Rescue vehicle pulled up, siren screaming and lights flashing. To stop us gawkers, one fireman directed traffic around the stopped vehicle.

As I moved away, I wondered what was wrong with the man on the ground. Maybe he was having a heart attack; maybe he was dying. I remember thinking “I hope not”. But the need to focus on the traffic ahead pulled my thoughts away from the incident behind.

I didn’t think of this again until today. Then I realized how detached I was from the event. It wasn’t a part of my small world. Family, friends, associates and acquaintances in total probably make by world 20-30 large. Sadly, in a world of billions, my world can be measured with fingers and toes.

But to be a part of my world means that others have invited me to be a part of their world. A simple wave, head-nod or smile suddenly changes one’s status from stranger to unnamed friendly, creating someone that I might give a thought to and care about.

But for today my world stays small, for today’s divided society, climate of paranoia and hate of others who might be somehow different, and propaganda from our leaders that there is not enough for everyone to have it all has created a society where distrust is the first emotion pulled forth from within us by a stranger.

A stranger like me.

And that’s Yanked Up.

There was a boy
There was a girl
And to the two of them God once did give the world
But he left to find his fame and his fortune
And now she calls to him alone, come home

And through the miles
Across the miles
His heart it hears from her inside of himself he smiles
But he left to find his fame and his fortune
Now all alone she calls to him, come home

So you and I
Somehow, someway
Will find each other never more than a thought away
For once I’ve finished searching for fame and fortune
We’ll spend forever together blissfully at home


For Taylor, who left to serve our country, and Susan, who waits.