Color Blind

Someone called me a racist the other day. I was shocked that someone would call me that just because I was critical about the violent activity of some people who just happened to be of a certain culture. I don’t think I became defensive … no use debating someone whose mind was already made up … I just took the insult in and pondered about it.

Yesterday I got a very uplifting compliment from one of the Mexican handymen I work with. Fernando said he has worked with many people but there was something about me that was different. “You are the nicest person” he said. And then he hugged me. That was a Kodak moment — a heavyset, stocky short Mexican hugging a lean, aging, 6 foot Asian. We laughed.

The other day, a Hindu friend, was sharing what life is like without his wife. Raj is planning on a European cruise but what’s a cruise without someone to share the adventure with? He asked me if I knew someone who’d like to go with him. I’m working on it.

Last week, a friend from Tanzania asked me for advice as he was purchasing a lot of computers for his homeland. Whenever Kunta calls, he laughs. He says he loves to hear my smiling voice. He wants to get into some kind of business with me. We dream about importing and exporting stuff — copper, emerald, coffee beans, leather goods, pistacio nuts … African stuff. We even have a jungle junket in mind. Even if nothing comes out of these talks, we just enjoy brainstorming about our global enterprise.

Some of my best friends are not of the same skin color as me … not the same age as me. They may have different religious and political ideologies, different sexual preferences, but that’s fine with me. We’re all part of the human race.

I believe people (even those with good intentions) who harp at our differences play a losing game. For them, there’s always an abuser and a victim (and they’re never the abuser). I was in a meeting led by a Guatemalan American. Out of nowhere, Gertrude told him she empathized with his being South American. She practically said “you should feel bad because of your dark skin.” The teacher was visibly shaken. He probably never considered himself anything but American … even I had never looked at him through colored lenses … heck! his skin was even lighter than mine. Gertrude brought the mirror into the room. How did that help?

When someone has a pimple on his nose, do you point it out? I grew up with a someone who stuttered. We were told not to mind it. The stuttering went away.

So when someone calls you a racist, chances are, it isn’t because they really know you. Maybe it’s because they are trying to force you into their worldview. Who needs to fit into a world shaped by bitterness and self importance?

But this is just me. TGIF people!

Raoul

“Your journey to peace starts when you stop debating the uninformed, reasoning with the unreasonable, and bantering with fools.” –— Anonymous

Thanks to Mel of Washington, D.C.

Videos of the Week

Thanks to Rodney of Manitoba, B.C, for this elevator prank.

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C. for this inspirational video

Parting Shots

Thanks to Kathy of Bend, Oregon

Thanks to Cheryl of Temple City, CA

Thanks to Art of Sierra Madre, CA

Thanks to Naomi of North Hollywood, CA

The post Life in Airhead City appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Name Game

My wife has been dreaming about owning a corgi (the dog with the perpetual smile) and she’s been experimenting with different names to call it. Her choices have transitioned from Piper, to Wolverine, to Goliath and now to Max. To her it’s so important. But I don’t get it. Po-TAY-toe … po-TAH-toe … it’s all the same to me … or is it? What’s really is in a name?

I’m starting to read the book of Joshua. In the intro it says his original name was Hoshea which means Salvation. This book was written maybe 4,000 years ago so I’m thinking: In all those years did Joshua really stand for salvation or did Joshua start the meaning of salvation?

When someone is called a Judas, a Hitler or an Einstein, the adjective (used to describe that person) is named after the original person’s achievement or failure.

Most people live and die with the name given to them from birth. It’s a name that the parents decreed for their child. Some names have significance to it — like people who are named after the parent’s favorite relative,  or because the child is supposed to carry the ancestry line, or named after the situation of their birth (as in Chief Raging Storm).

Which brings me to the point in all this: Do you like your name? Are you living up to your name? Whatever your name is, your achievements may be a positive or negative contribution to society. Will generations use your name in contemptuous expletives or will it mean something of honor?

Are you living up to your decreed path by your parents? Take your time and really ponder this. This mental exercise may show you a roadmap or a pattern that you have been following subconsciously all through your life.

Ask yourself this: If you had a choice, would you still take the path you are in? Or is this someone else’s path? If it’s a good path, great! I guess you should stay on course. But if “the shoe doesn’t fit …”, remember —  no one is forcing you to follow this path.

But of course, this is just me.

TGIF people!

Joke of the Week

Thanks to Peter Paul of S Pasadena, CA for sending this joke.

Don’s Puns

From Don’s collection of puns

Parting Shot

Thanks to Art of Sierra Madre, CA who shared this.

The post Stolen Speeding Car appeared first on Traveling Archive.

A Tale of Two Cities

Last Saturday I found myself in the middle of a baby shower in Temple City. I was drawing 5 minute caricatures of well-to-do young families. In the process, I got into some very interesting intellectual conversations about career choices and family dynamics. I was being paid by the hour so I was very conscious of the speed I was churning these sketches up. They had fun and I had fun myself. The guests were pleasantly surprised at this unusual treat. The hostess was so proud and happy for her choice of entertainment that she displayed my work on her grand piano and said she was passing my name out to her other friends. I appreciate that.

In direct contrast of scenery, last month, I drew caricatures for the city of Watts [one of the poorest communities in Los Angeles]. To be honest, I was a bit nervous because as we approached the basketball court where I was to set up my easel, our guide pointed out 3 rival gangs to me. This was drive-by-shooting country (I wished I gave my wife a better goodbye when I headed out the door). I was only wearing my T-Shirt in the cold night air. The halogen lamps of the basketball court weren’t the best lighting but the “show had to go on.” The line was relentless. Many never had their portraits done … probably because they couldn’t afford it. They were shocked that I was doing it for free. One young black kid gave me business advice: “Are you rich? Like … do you live in an apartment? You know, [his inventive mind churning] you could make money drawing people for $5 a face.” How could you not love that boy?

I had to wrap up when the kitchen ran out of food. The church that sponsored the Christmas event fed 700 people. When I tried to get up a stabbing pain shot up my legs and backside. I guess I had sat down too long. I was so focused that I didn’t realize I was already shivering from the cold. I couldn’t walk. A good friend helped me to the car. I survived the night — no gun shot wound … but I was still wasted. That’s okay because my heart was full of gladness.

In my pain inside the car, I started to realize that one of these days, I would no longer be able to do face-to-face caricatures. My eyesight will go. My trembling fingers will no longer follow my instructions. My back will hurt so bad I wouldn’t be able to sit still for hours anymore.

I will surely miss doing this. I’ve done this for the dirt poor and the filthy rich. I’ve talked to thousands of strangers who I’ve connected quite intimately as I searched into their eyes for the brief period they were my portrait prisoners. Every one of them created by God so distinctly. Even twins have something different about them. Every one of them — special in God’s eyes. Every one of them loved by God. Maybe next week I will share what goes on my head as I draw people.

If you have a caricature I have made of you, please preserve it. If I get rich and famous, that drawing may cost a lot. If that happens, all these poor people like the citizens of Watts will own something of real value.

I decided long ago, pain or no pain, as long as I still can, I will share this gift of drawing to others. I’m certainly thankful if they pay me, but money should never be the determinant of what I give out freely. Please let others know of my services.

Tomorrow I will be doing caricatures at the Duarte Senior Center. It’s for charity. Do drop by and support the seniors. Perhaps you can still own an original Raoul.

TGIF people!

“The wise man does not lay up his own treasures. The more he gives to others, the more he has for his own. — Lao Tzu

Joke of the Week

Our Friday joke of the week comes from: Lois of Whittier, CA

Harry Caray was a beloved, colorful Major League sportscaster who was known for the funny stories he would tell about himself. I heard a story about him the other day, which would be much funnier if you could hear the teller of the story imitating Harry’s strange way of talking. It goes like this.

Lois

Video of the Week

Side by Side
Sent by Don of Kelowna, B.C.

This is probably the third time I am sharing this but it’s too good not to share again. Besides, there have been so many new subscribers since the last time.

Growing old can be funny.

Don’s Puns

From Don’s collection of puns

Heavy Thought of the Week

Sent by Rodney of Manitoba, B.C.

Parting Shots

Thanks to Don of Kelowna, B.C. who shared this

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