Oblivious Idiot

They play juvenile games.

It’s all about them.

They leave in their wake

Nauseous waves of mayhem.

They hijack your life,

Think that everything’s free.

Are oblivious to the anguish

They cause you and me.

Behind lies and laughter

They hide their distress,

Causing havoc and then

We must clean up their mess.

And vacancy lights shine

So bright in their eyes

They can’t see for looking --

Everything’s a surprise!

They’ll steal your money

Make promises bold,

Then break every one

Leaving you in the cold.

And they won’t understand

What it is they did wrong.

They’ll just shoot you a wink

And that ol’ dance and song.

Cos nothing’s their fault.

Perfect victims are they

Blaming everyone else

For what grief comes their way.

So, beware of the

Oblivious idiot you see.

Run from them, don't walk,

If you want to be free.

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2010

It seems I've had a rash of dealings lately with people who just don't have a clue how their actions, and non-actions, take a toll on the lives of people around them. Yesterday I'd had enough and this poetic rant surfaced.

There ... got that out of my system.

Cheerz!

Not made in Japan -- Part III -- My kingdom for a horse

For most of our two-week trip to Japan we were city dwellers.

This was a challenge for me. I left city living a long time ago, preferring the more bucolic country lifestyle where I can see the stars at night; hear the calling of birds other than pigeons and drive less than 10 minutes in any direction to see a horse grazing happily in a field.

Horses are my sanity; my anchor; my passion. Like most life long horse people I caught the equine bug early, and though it took me until I was 43 to get my first horse, I had the good fortune of riding at least once a week for most of my life which offered, at the very least, an ongoing connection.

Once, for about four years, I left the horses behind foolishly thinking that it was a little girl flight of fancy that should just be abandoned. But I was totally and utterly miserable the entire time, and didn't realize how much until I ended up at the Calgary Stampede one summer and sat in the stands balling my eyes out while watching the cowgirls put their beautiful horses through their paces. I suddenly understood why I'd been feeling so empty. Needless to say I resolved there and then to indulge my love of horses again, and this conscious decision changed my life immeasurably. That's when I learned it is useless to abandon your passion because it's part of what makes you whole. Lose it and it will somehow find you again.

But I digress ...

So, here I am, in my mid 40s, still besotted by the horse and looking for traces of all things equine wherever I travel. When I do spot something my sense of child-like wonder squeals spontaneously "Ooh, horsey!" and for a few moments I am rapt, my sense of equine deprivation temporarily sated.

In Prague we went for a horse and buggy ride around the Old Town ... it was magical! In Argentina I marvelled at the gaucho games on a vast estancia I was fortunate enough to visit. While driving anywhere I scan the landscape for any evidence that the spirit equine lives.

But the experience in the areas of Japan we visited was different.

Tokyo is an exciting and vibrant city and as congested as one might expect for a city of 12 million. As most of it was destroyed during WWII it is very modern with few buildings older than 60 years. It also has many lovely gardens featuring legions of tall, lush trees, Koi-filled ponds, pagodas full-size and miniature, and traditional red-painted bridges. Of course, many of the parks surround shrines and temples, but there are also the vast grounds around the Imperial Palace. In these lovely green spaces I saw feral cats; small domestic dogs clothed in sequins; and heard the caw of many crows. But I didn't see a single horse ... not even a police horse!

Our travels outside of Tokyo, primarily by the fantastic Shinkanzen or “Bullet train” took us to Hakone (Mt. Fuji), Hiroshima and Kyoto. It is approximately two hours from Tokyo to Odawara (the stop for Hakone) and a seven-hour trip by train to Hiroshima from Odawara. Almost every single acre along the rail line is developed!! No room for a horse ...

To the west are the coastal mountains, but everything between those mountains and the ocean is pretty much a cluster of grey concrete and glass -- industrial, commercial and residential -- punctuated by the odd rice paddy. Again, no room for a horse ...

My closest encounter with a horse took place at Miyajima in the shape of a scale model of a white horse (inset) overlooking the inlet of the floating Torii gate while standing in what looks like an ancient stall. It captivated me enough that I just had to capture it in digital.

Nope ... there was not a single live horse to be seen, heard, felt or smelled anywhere for an entire two weeks in Japan.

Needless to say when I got home I buried my nose in Bear's fuzzy neck, took a deep breath of horse heaven and gave him a big hug. In my kingdom, there is a horse.