Everyone knows that housing is a no brainer in a discussion. We simply know it's importance. That is established. What is not acceptable is the inconvenience and hardships that we are enduring because of societal and economic conditions that have affected this very basic part of the fabric of everyday life. We are an educated, hardworking, and industrious society and if the economy, politics, and finances have robbed us of the basics, it is the responsibility and duty of intelligent and educated people to find new solutions to the problem. That is who we are and it is my premise that we can resolve this issue with some creative, inventive, and out of the box thinking.
Many individuals today in Orlando live in motels. Many are employed and hard working. Typically, the cost of the motel room is about $200 a week. That's 800 a month. Yes, there are pros and cons to this but if you take two people that's 1600 a month and 3 people 2400 a month. That's alot of rent money and is not being used very wisely. That amount of cash can rent some amazing real estate. Orlando was recently in the news as the emptiest city in America with a residential vacancy rate of 18.8% That is quite a bit of empty housing. Do you think some of these property owners would like to have their places rented out? Do you think there are people like you and me that would like to save some money and have a good place to live? Please, no need to reply, I know the probable answers to that.
My suggestion is to network together on this and see what an intelligent exchange can result in. The worst that can happen is nothing, the maintaining of the status quo. The best that can happen is radical change and a vast improvement in quality of life and housing. Thank you.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Letters. What one man wrote to the object of his affections.
But never sent them.
The Prologue
The morning was gray, damp, and cold, so typical for a New York City December morning. This was a morning he would not feel this coldness anymore. He had passed in his sleep. A peaceful passing in the physical sense, a passing anyone would envy. Painless. Painless in the physical sense, another matter emotionally and psychologically.
Now that the dawn was rising his friend and neighbor stirred with the chilled morning and she wondered when this building would ever have the heat up at a more reasonable hour. Nevertheless she donned her robe and looked forward to her morning coffee with her neighbor. What a nice man he always was she thought, always kind and gentle and considerate. What ever could have caused him to become so immersed in his private thoughts all these years? With that she knocked on his door expecting his always cheerful "Come in!" Quiet. She knocked again and called his name. Nothing. More quiet. Could he still be asleep she wondered? Maybe he didn't want to come out from under his blankets yet. She knocked again... nothing. Now she became concerned so she went back to her place to retrieve the key he provided to her for any necessary tasks. She turned the key which had never before been used, and calling his name there was still quiet. Ah, he's still asleep she observed calling out his name. No response. Now she became concerned and approached him. Still thinking he was asleep she soon discovered from the blue color of his lips and ashen whiteness of his skin that he had departed this world. She wept in silence. She did notice that he was clutching a sheaf of envelopes to his heart. In taking them from his tightened fingers she saw that they were addressed simply to a first name.
She knew something of her but just enough to know that she was a distant love object, someone he never shared a love with. She soon realized that these letters were never mailed. She exclaimed to herself that he had spent all those secret moments in writing to someone who never even saw what he wrote. What else could be she thought, the letters were still here. Who was this creature that could have possessed him so greatly and for so many years she wondered? Looking over at the address book on his desk the thought occurred to her that there might be a listing inside. Not knowing a last name she looked and found a simple listing for the first name. Not that far away she noticed. In that instant she completely considered calling the number, telling of his passing in the night, and lastly but with incredible emotion, to tell of these letters. A quantity of letters that he was holding to his heart in his final moments and that were written and held back by him for all these years. What would this lady feel about this she asked herself? She realized that the overwhelming curiosity she was experiencing might also be felt by the intended, she immediately went for the telephone, pointed her index finger just below the number, and pressed the buttons, all ten of them, waited for the ringing, hoping a human voice would answer.
"Hello?" She was there. Why she didn't fully understand but as one woman to another she just felt it was right for the letters to reach their final destination. She reflected that she had been a faithful and loyal friend for such a long time and had never even been asked out, not even for a cup of coffee. Apparently, the declining of another to join him for coffee at a bookstore was a permanent inhibition from ever asking anyone out ever again.
In a moment she told of the letters and that she would be happy to forward them to their proper home. Writing the address, she went to the post office that very day, putting the end to his suffering, although posthumously. Contacting his next of kin, the final arrangements were placed in motion. She left that city right afterwards. She didn't want to be available should any questions be asked, and left no forwarding information. There must have been a strong reason he never mailed the letters she reflected.
A few days later the thick parcel arrived. There was no return address. Where did he live? Why no return address? There was the postal stamp with the city and state. Not that far. Letters though? What could this be? A bunch of letters that were never sent? They would have made good reading after remaining alone all those years, always skeptical of advances by men and never believing love would ever come in this life. Being buried in work to erase any impulse to love another. The pain was too, too great and the vow had been made to never be betrayed again. She knew he had perceived this condition in her correctly from the beginning and that she had been seriously wounded but she never gave him the chance to know just how much. If she did then he would reopen those wounds, he'd never accept being beside her and not being deep inside her heart, and she couldn't bear the thought of feeling that ever again, even though she knew he was the one who could heal her heart. The effort she made to resist her surrender to him was a monumental task and effort that left her drained. Why she didn't give herself to him she never understood considering he was the only man she ever really thought about.
Grasping the box and feverishly tearing the wrapping open she sat down and gazed at the contents. A stack of letters of lavender stationery with the appearance of being around for quite a long time, sealed and unopened, unstamped, but addressed with a first name. Unsent. Engaged staring at them for a very, very long time, darkness fell outside the window, the time simply disappearing with the reliving of the memories. Reminiscing, having never given up thinking of him, and before she even touched a letter, grief suddenly striking her with the realization, she cried out "He's gone!" Streams of tears cascaded downward along the slopes of her cheeks raining upon the letters, finally bringing their love together for the first time. The release of emotion was overwhelming for her as she collapsed upon the box of letters in the darkness clutching them to her breast as he did in his final moments. In an attempt to surround and capture his spirit with her body, she finally said I love you to him across the abyss of forever.
The Prologue
The morning was gray, damp, and cold, so typical for a New York City December morning. This was a morning he would not feel this coldness anymore. He had passed in his sleep. A peaceful passing in the physical sense, a passing anyone would envy. Painless. Painless in the physical sense, another matter emotionally and psychologically.
Now that the dawn was rising his friend and neighbor stirred with the chilled morning and she wondered when this building would ever have the heat up at a more reasonable hour. Nevertheless she donned her robe and looked forward to her morning coffee with her neighbor. What a nice man he always was she thought, always kind and gentle and considerate. What ever could have caused him to become so immersed in his private thoughts all these years? With that she knocked on his door expecting his always cheerful "Come in!" Quiet. She knocked again and called his name. Nothing. More quiet. Could he still be asleep she wondered? Maybe he didn't want to come out from under his blankets yet. She knocked again... nothing. Now she became concerned so she went back to her place to retrieve the key he provided to her for any necessary tasks. She turned the key which had never before been used, and calling his name there was still quiet. Ah, he's still asleep she observed calling out his name. No response. Now she became concerned and approached him. Still thinking he was asleep she soon discovered from the blue color of his lips and ashen whiteness of his skin that he had departed this world. She wept in silence. She did notice that he was clutching a sheaf of envelopes to his heart. In taking them from his tightened fingers she saw that they were addressed simply to a first name.
She knew something of her but just enough to know that she was a distant love object, someone he never shared a love with. She soon realized that these letters were never mailed. She exclaimed to herself that he had spent all those secret moments in writing to someone who never even saw what he wrote. What else could be she thought, the letters were still here. Who was this creature that could have possessed him so greatly and for so many years she wondered? Looking over at the address book on his desk the thought occurred to her that there might be a listing inside. Not knowing a last name she looked and found a simple listing for the first name. Not that far away she noticed. In that instant she completely considered calling the number, telling of his passing in the night, and lastly but with incredible emotion, to tell of these letters. A quantity of letters that he was holding to his heart in his final moments and that were written and held back by him for all these years. What would this lady feel about this she asked herself? She realized that the overwhelming curiosity she was experiencing might also be felt by the intended, she immediately went for the telephone, pointed her index finger just below the number, and pressed the buttons, all ten of them, waited for the ringing, hoping a human voice would answer.
"Hello?" She was there. Why she didn't fully understand but as one woman to another she just felt it was right for the letters to reach their final destination. She reflected that she had been a faithful and loyal friend for such a long time and had never even been asked out, not even for a cup of coffee. Apparently, the declining of another to join him for coffee at a bookstore was a permanent inhibition from ever asking anyone out ever again.
In a moment she told of the letters and that she would be happy to forward them to their proper home. Writing the address, she went to the post office that very day, putting the end to his suffering, although posthumously. Contacting his next of kin, the final arrangements were placed in motion. She left that city right afterwards. She didn't want to be available should any questions be asked, and left no forwarding information. There must have been a strong reason he never mailed the letters she reflected.
A few days later the thick parcel arrived. There was no return address. Where did he live? Why no return address? There was the postal stamp with the city and state. Not that far. Letters though? What could this be? A bunch of letters that were never sent? They would have made good reading after remaining alone all those years, always skeptical of advances by men and never believing love would ever come in this life. Being buried in work to erase any impulse to love another. The pain was too, too great and the vow had been made to never be betrayed again. She knew he had perceived this condition in her correctly from the beginning and that she had been seriously wounded but she never gave him the chance to know just how much. If she did then he would reopen those wounds, he'd never accept being beside her and not being deep inside her heart, and she couldn't bear the thought of feeling that ever again, even though she knew he was the one who could heal her heart. The effort she made to resist her surrender to him was a monumental task and effort that left her drained. Why she didn't give herself to him she never understood considering he was the only man she ever really thought about.
Grasping the box and feverishly tearing the wrapping open she sat down and gazed at the contents. A stack of letters of lavender stationery with the appearance of being around for quite a long time, sealed and unopened, unstamped, but addressed with a first name. Unsent. Engaged staring at them for a very, very long time, darkness fell outside the window, the time simply disappearing with the reliving of the memories. Reminiscing, having never given up thinking of him, and before she even touched a letter, grief suddenly striking her with the realization, she cried out "He's gone!" Streams of tears cascaded downward along the slopes of her cheeks raining upon the letters, finally bringing their love together for the first time. The release of emotion was overwhelming for her as she collapsed upon the box of letters in the darkness clutching them to her breast as he did in his final moments. In an attempt to surround and capture his spirit with her body, she finally said I love you to him across the abyss of forever.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Leadership in America
America is a land composed of many people that come from many different lands with a variety of views and persuasions. That we embrace all people here is indicative of the spirit of America. That position and that tolerance of all people is what has also made America great.
Today we weep over the conditions in America. Those of wealth and position seem to seek to trample on those of lesser achievement and wealth. The wealth that seems to be most highly prized is simple money and values and traditions have been discarded, not by all but by some. Apparantly, some of those more fortunate are seeking positions of leadership in America and seek to trample further on the people enduring the plight of modern times. Those most vulnerable and those that are suffering under the conditions of politics and the economy.
America came into being and was forged as a nation under the oppression of some many years ago. There are those in these times that fashion themselves as kings who seek to impose a similar oppression upon the people. This is not acceptable nor is it fair or in the spirit of America. One cannot say that they love America while trampling upon other Americans.
It is now that we must seek out and find true leaders to continue the traditions and greatness that has made America what she is. Not to cut away the support systems that keep people healthy, with food on their tables, with medicines to keep them healthy, and for the support of those of lesser means and abilities that are struggling through hard times. To be a leader is to lead all and not just the chosen few. That is against every principle America represents.
To find leaders that consistently and sincerely care for and respect all Americans of every caliber and position. This we must do today.
Today we weep over the conditions in America. Those of wealth and position seem to seek to trample on those of lesser achievement and wealth. The wealth that seems to be most highly prized is simple money and values and traditions have been discarded, not by all but by some. Apparantly, some of those more fortunate are seeking positions of leadership in America and seek to trample further on the people enduring the plight of modern times. Those most vulnerable and those that are suffering under the conditions of politics and the economy.
America came into being and was forged as a nation under the oppression of some many years ago. There are those in these times that fashion themselves as kings who seek to impose a similar oppression upon the people. This is not acceptable nor is it fair or in the spirit of America. One cannot say that they love America while trampling upon other Americans.
It is now that we must seek out and find true leaders to continue the traditions and greatness that has made America what she is. Not to cut away the support systems that keep people healthy, with food on their tables, with medicines to keep them healthy, and for the support of those of lesser means and abilities that are struggling through hard times. To be a leader is to lead all and not just the chosen few. That is against every principle America represents.
To find leaders that consistently and sincerely care for and respect all Americans of every caliber and position. This we must do today.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
The Eden Plan
This guy is walking across America in support of helping the homeless:
http://www.edenplan.org/
http://www.edenplan.org/
The last day of being 62
Good Morning,
It's a brand new day here in Orlando, Florida. Having morning coffee and reflecting. Slept like a baby. WESH radar shows a clear sky, yay!
Spent the day yesterday downtown near Lake Eola. What a pretty setting. Had coffee at Panera's. Although some people were with another, most were alone and embracing a solitude. People look away from each other and insulate themselves with ear buds, telephones, and texting. USA Today had a front cover story last year referring to "the year we stopped talking to each other." Is this the the next step in the evolutionary cycle? That we stop talking to each other face to face? I could see that this could be something good if people had a firm grasp on written communication but if we have troubles with communicating verbally and people always are asking one another "what do you mean by that," are we really ready for a communicative environment where written messages are our sole form of communication? Perhaps it's me but I don't see that we're ready for that. There are instances where some excel with their writing but many where they do not.
We're in a state of upheaval. Always re-inventing but never seeming to perfect the last inventive period. We complicate matters when the simple works so well. I guess that after over six decades one can see through the fog. It all just comes out in the wash eventually.
It's a brand new day here in Orlando, Florida. Having morning coffee and reflecting. Slept like a baby. WESH radar shows a clear sky, yay!
Spent the day yesterday downtown near Lake Eola. What a pretty setting. Had coffee at Panera's. Although some people were with another, most were alone and embracing a solitude. People look away from each other and insulate themselves with ear buds, telephones, and texting. USA Today had a front cover story last year referring to "the year we stopped talking to each other." Is this the the next step in the evolutionary cycle? That we stop talking to each other face to face? I could see that this could be something good if people had a firm grasp on written communication but if we have troubles with communicating verbally and people always are asking one another "what do you mean by that," are we really ready for a communicative environment where written messages are our sole form of communication? Perhaps it's me but I don't see that we're ready for that. There are instances where some excel with their writing but many where they do not.
We're in a state of upheaval. Always re-inventing but never seeming to perfect the last inventive period. We complicate matters when the simple works so well. I guess that after over six decades one can see through the fog. It all just comes out in the wash eventually.
Monday, September 10, 2012
I have a big mouth
There, it's been established. Now for what's important. We all want to love and be loved but why do we try to tear down our fellow human being? Greed, want, material wants and desires, all that stuff will not come from playing king of the mountain. It comes from a shared and mutually beneficial interaction.
There are so many issues. I have things to say about many of them but my biggest peeve is hypocrisy. Way, way too much of that. Man does not get ahead by tearing his fellow man down. Face it, it just isn't going to happen. All of this want, appetite, and materialism isn't the way. Things break, wear out, get old, are such a waste of good resources and energy.
I'm also sensitive to the homeless issue. A simple solution? Income is necessary to pay rent. It can't be any simpler or more basic than that but society, government, and business continue to masturbate their intellects trying to re-invent the wheel. Get over it. Get the people into jobs and some counseling if necessary and get things back to a more normal condition and yes, that is normal. Don't muddy my waters. They're crystal clear.
There are so many issues. I have things to say about many of them but my biggest peeve is hypocrisy. Way, way too much of that. Man does not get ahead by tearing his fellow man down. Face it, it just isn't going to happen. All of this want, appetite, and materialism isn't the way. Things break, wear out, get old, are such a waste of good resources and energy.
I'm also sensitive to the homeless issue. A simple solution? Income is necessary to pay rent. It can't be any simpler or more basic than that but society, government, and business continue to masturbate their intellects trying to re-invent the wheel. Get over it. Get the people into jobs and some counseling if necessary and get things back to a more normal condition and yes, that is normal. Don't muddy my waters. They're crystal clear.
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