August 2003
Two Years, and Counting
 
First Things First

August 2001, I decided to try my homepage project again.  This time I knew what I wanted, and how to go about making it happen.  Well, now it's two years and the site just keeps growing as I get more ideas.  I still have a bunch of ideas, and pictures to take.  I hope you keep coming back for a visit.  The two year anniversary is marked this year by additions to Vista Drive, and American Bliss.  Vista Drive gets more pictures to both sections.  American Bliss gets three additions.  One is Compositions, a small collection of my works of prose.  The other is Am-Ex: Windmills, a quick opinion journal.  Hope you check them both out, and the rest of the site.  Enjoy.


Afterthoughts : The Last Race

I was on my high school track team for a little while.  I wasn't that good of a runner.  I actually hated it.  I should have gone out for the basketball team, but I was too short.  So everyone told me.  I didn't care about that.  Somehow I ended up being on the track team.  The track coach thought he saw some kind of talent in me.  Wrong.  Yet, it wasn't so bad.  I got to leave campus to run on the park right next to campus.  That was fun.  I'll never forget my last track meet, and my last race.

Coach made me run the mile.  Something I usually did in about 6 minutes.  I say about because I can't remember my exact times.  I was never interested in that.  So it was my last race.  I had to run a mile, and I wasn't sure why I was doing it.  It was a total waste of time.  The grandstand in the stadium was completely empty, except for a few losers that didn't have anything to do but to watch me, another loser, run around like an idiot.  The race started and I quickly found my place in the middle of the back of the pack.  On our track when we went around four times that was a mile.  Yuppie.  On my first turn I was doing fine.  Right about my second go around I started to feel completely tired.  The heat was getting to me, and I was started to fade.  Talk about hitting a wall, that was the third lap.  During that time I remember moving towards the inside to look down and see where the track was.  I wasn't looking forward anymore.  I followed the inside white line.  I noticed the grass, and the clipping.  I saw the sprinklers ever few feet.  I looked up and saw the grandstand, and behind that the basketball courts.  Someone was shooting a shot, and missing.  I knew I could make it.  I wanted to run to the court and start playing.  Running in circles was not my idea of fun.  As I started the forth, and final, lap strange thoughts came into my head.  I wondered how many time my feet had hit the ground.  I thought about counting them and trying to figure out how many I had made in my trip around the track.  I forgot what time it was, and what I was doing.  I drifted away.  I wasn't on the track, not my mind anyway.  My body went on auto-pilot and steered me around the track.  I didn't even realize it when I passed the finish line.  I didn't care.  I walked a little.  Someone told me my time.  I didn't hear it.  I grabbed my things and got in my car and drove home.  I turned up the radio and put the windows down.  I wanted to put as much distance as I could between me and that track.  My legs felt like they were burning.  Every breath I took was like swallowing mouthwash.

I never ran track again.  I quit the team and played basketball during my lunch breaks.  I played great some days, and horrible others, but I never got tired.


Editorial : Drugs are a Cancer

I was once one of those people that thought illegal drugs should be made legal, and taxed.  People use drugs despite all the government efforts to curtail such use.  The "Just Say No" campaign has been, for lack of a better word, a total failure.  Despite these facts I now feel that fighting drugs are something as important as fighting terrorism.  In a sense, this is yet another front on the war on terrorism.

Why have I made this change in my personal beliefs?  Because, I now see what drugs to do people.  I'm one of the few people that have not been exposed to drugs.  Once someone offered me some marijuana, but except for that incident, nothing.  So, in a sense I've been very sheltered when it comes to drug use.  As I get older, and I meet new people, I have come to know some people who use drugs.  Drugs are often used as an escape for these people I know.  They wish to leave their lives and experience something else.  Drugs accomplish this, for a brief time.  But, once the high wears off, they are right smack in the middle of their miserable lives.  And so the cycle continues, they feel horrible about their lives, so they use drugs, which makes them feel horrible about their lives, so they use drugs.  And so on and so on.  It is a never-ending spiral of decent into a drug induced abyss, from which one can not escape.

I have a friend that shall remain nameless.  He uses drugs because he feels his life is miserable.  He tells me that they make him forget.  When I ask him what he's doing to deal with his emotional problems he says that he uses drugs.  He is never at a point where he has the wherewithal to actually deal with the problems that plague him.  And so his cycle of decent continues.  He'll never find the courage to change some things about his life because he never faces them.  Yes, some things are hard to face, but they must be if they are going to ever be changed.  He will never be able to do that.  Not as long as he keeps using drugs to forget his problems.  Problems that are still there, and growing, but that he doesn't deal with.

Then there are those who use drugs and cause other's harm.  Like the case of the woman who hit a homeless man on the highway, only to drive home and leave him to die stuck to the windshield of her car.  She had not only used marijuana that night, but drank, and used ecstasy.  She testified during the sentencing phase of her trial that she habitually used marijuana.  Often getting high just as she woke up in the morning.  She also blamed her callus treatment of an injured person trapped in her windshield to not being able to think straight.  This woman went through life smoking her weed, driving to work high, and working with patients (she was a nurse) while high.  Is it any wonder that she was in a drug haze when she ran over a man and left him for dead, instead of taking him to the hospital?

The deeper issue is that drugs do alter the mind.  To the point that they have become as dangerous to our society as a terrorist attack.  Because the use of these drugs becomes habitual, the user can not free themselves from the grip of drugs.  They are addicted, even as they claim not to be.

The illegal drugs of today are so much more powerful than those of only a generation ago.  Their potency is so much higher that users are either higher, or are high for much longer.  Further causing problems for all of use who go about our lives without a clue as to when someone on drugs might plow into us with a car.  Not everyone that uses drugs is going to plow into us with a car of course.  But, I use it as an example of what could happen, because it has so many times before.  Drug use is dangerous, for all of us.  Not just for those who abuse drugs, but for those who consider themselves casual users.  Drugs have always been a cancer, eating away at us from the inside.  These days the cancer is spreading as it grows stronger.  It is time that we put our efforts into stopping this cancer.  But not by the means that we have chosen to fight them with now.  A raid on some drug lab isn't going to curve the use of drugs.  Ideas have to be changed.  People now believe that drugs can't do harm, manly because of a campaign to legalize so called "medicinal drugs."  But these proponents of legalization cloak themselves in the medicinal qualities of some illegal drugs in order to hide the fact that they simply want to use them to get high, without legal ramifications.  It is a deception that proponents wish to sell us on.  It hasn't happened here with me.  If anything, I now see it for what it is, a campaign to grow a cancer deep inside of us.


the Elsewhere archive