My No Official Title Article

My No Official Title Article

By Joel Elveson

There is something different seasonally speaking in the air. The Summer sun is blazing hot warming beach waters all over the country. BBQ’s are still being fired up with the ever so aromatic scent of steaks sizzling on the grill. The hours of daylight have begun to diminish. In some parts of the country, children will be starting a new school term. Those who trade Summer in the city for Summer in hotels and bungalow colonies are not packing for their sad farewell trip home. Green grass and green leaves are still green with no brown or wilting that the eye can detect.

The calendar reveals we are entering the second week of August aka the “dog days of August” a sacred time to some when the gladiators of fall and winter are sharpening their weapons of war in preparation of battles that will be fought on 100 yard long fields. The crack of the baseball bat as it collides with a baseball propelling it high and far into the atmosphere as the crowd roars with approval or sulks with sadness only defeat can bring is still very much in evidence.

Curious bystanders meekly meander to where this known or unknown person is stationed with their entourage that we are beckoned with bullhorns to come meet.

Our annual rite of being courted by men and women who wish to take up residence in our nation’s capital is in full swing. Curious bystanders meekly meander to where this known or unknown person is stationed with their entourage that we are beckoned with bullhorns to come meet. Hugs, handshakes, kisses, autographs, speeches and more highlight the lighthearted feeling to the day. We challenge those who are wooing us to reveal the heart hidden by the hoopla and hype. Will the real you stand up and reveal yourself to us.

All is well even if all is not well is all still well and good. Why should we be perplexed by feelings of fear from changes that will or may come our way even if these changes are or are good for some and bad for others whilst others feel no change at all. This month with a name many will not know that for some kicks off the season for introspection, retrospection, reparations, or even rejuvenation that will soon be followed by an unseen adjudicator who will rule about deeds from a year that will be bound up and sealed for what will lay in store.

When you wake to greet the new day while thanking he who sits on high for this day so you may know this may be your last day.

Time greets all of us within the time it has been given when given the assurance the time of that time is now. For now, dreams when you slumber you shall keep as they can only be your dreams. They are for you to draw meaning from. When you wake to greet the new day while thanking he who sits on high for this day so you may know this may be your last day. Such is this season as the sun prepares to slyly sneak away from us. Now we must request rain for when the heat from the sun brings its life-giving energy our way again balance will have been restored.

My mind can remember when I was a freckle-faced young boy who aside from Johnny Appleseed in want of no friends other than he when I tripped and tumbled on the cracked gray wooden plank steps behind the building on Olinville Avenue while the iron horses roared above. The ground did not yield to my frame as it indifferently watched my head hit the ground opening a hydrant of blood. Skippy was there for me. He raced to the back to alert their nearest human who he knew to alert him as to what had become on me.  Skippy was a loyal lab who always seemed to know when to be there. Steps became my mortal enemies. To this day no good comes from them as I begin my descent.

One day Johnny Appleseed and Skippy moved away. It was in no season I can recall nor for any reason at all. P.S. 96 was taken over and no kids were allowed out. I don’t remember what that was all about But I do remember sitting with my mother in Bronx Park East eating a tuna fish sandwich while drinking chocolate milk from a jar. I did not dare ride my red tricycle down that steep hill. All this while we were under watch from those buildings (they had the hammer and sickle insignia on them) that were once for communists.

Always a change. Always I did not know where and was never told why. Not always was there a title just as not there were places I did not want to be. Bee Hives hidden in trees. Once on a finger and once on the back of my neck. They too also to this day are not my friends. So many other friends have gone away that I may want to see one day. Here and now who is left? “turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio. Still, I can’t escape the ghost of you. What has happened to it all? Crazy, some’d say. Where is the life that we recognize? Gone away. But I won’t cry for yesterday. There’s an ordinary world. Somehow I have to find. And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world I will learn to survive.’-Duran Duran-Ordinary World.

Artificial intelligence. Emotional intelligence. This technology talk for baby boomers, millennials, gen x, gen y are words that meaning has not been attached to. See, taste, smell, watch listen and learn from the real world around you. Read the books the prophets wrote. Know the names of those who really lived. Heed the warnings of what will be that has come to be if we deviate from the path as we have done. There is no title to this. Make for us a life conceptualized with concepts connecting not with that which is not really there. Technology we now have. Technology we have yet to need. Too much technology we do not need. People touching hands of other people actually feeling their fingers gently pressing against each other.

Nothing has changed from when I started being dictated these words you now read. Everything has changed from when I started being dictated these words. It all looks the same as it was. Nothing is the same as we are no longer where we were. We will not be standing still to stay here as soon as we will be there. Tomorrow will once again see the sun rise and ablaze. It too will not be in the same place as it was today. The absence of poetry is now noticeable. Abstract has taken over for the concrete. Hints of this or that leave to your wonderings.

Explanations are called for but have not been offered. An explanation you now must give. Can you explain away the changes in tone? What have I really said if I have said anything at all? What can I say if what I say is not what you can hear? I have no visions for myself that will entrap me into illusions. From the mouth of a feline, there will be wisdom. She knows what we do not know as she can hear or sense the improper order. Her tongue is rough her fur is shiny and silky smooth. She reaches out her paw to you signifying friendship. Her squinted green eyes are lasers that reveal to her what you are.

Three blasts are sounding everyday signifying the time is close at hand. Changes are coming. Turn it around before the final verdict is announced. There are no more words. Changes are coming. Changes are here but you need to know with each blast of this seemingly foreign sound change is coming. The day is not here but the day is drawing near. Active is the night before the day. Light is only bright in the dark. Darkness is the light you will see.