Outspoken Poet's Blog

"In Washington DC , at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, a man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

After about four minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.

About four minutes later, the violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

At six minutes, a young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

At ten minutes, a three-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.

At forty-five minutes: The musician played continuously. Only six people stopped and listened for a short while. About twenty gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

After one hour:
He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities.

This experiment raised several questions:

In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

If so, do we stop to appreciate it?

Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:
If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…

How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?"

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from 24chasa.bg

"We're Hiring Stoyan Stoyanov, spoke yesterday Milen Keremedchiev.

Former vice-minister who now manages the Bulgarian Posts, was impressed by the story of the struggling cripple, who asked "24 hours" for help.

"I want to help. The company is socially oriented.He could become a security guard at the central office or supply centers of the company.We hire a lot of people with dissabilities/" said Keremedchiev.

Today "24 hours" will introduce Stoyan to hi future employer.

"I am touched, I can not believe it - Stoyan said through tears. - It seems that until the media intervenes, nothing can be changed in this country." "

O.P.:So after all humanity prevails. Some might say that this is a publicity stunt by authorities or that Mr.Stoyanov's case is one in one thousand but whatever they might say this is a happy ending. Even if only for one man. But thats the way to tackle the problems of modern society - one thing at a time, one step per day. I'm really happy for Mr.Stoyanov and I want to express my admiration for the people at the "24hours" newspaper.

Here's a 1924 telegram from then Chief of U.S. Naval Operations, Edward W. Eberle, instructing all Naval stations to monitor the airwaves for any unusual transmissions due to anticipated contact from Martians. August 22nd of that year was witness to the closest Mars opposition since 1804 (a mere 55,777,566 km), and as such provided desirable conditions in which to receive radio signals from the Red Planet. The man tasked with clearing the airwaves - a Professor David Todd - somehow managed to persuade both the Army and Navy to report any findings for a three day period, but failed to silence the country's private radio broadcasters for even two days. Needless to say, the three day exercise produced nothing but static.

Transcript

WASHINGTON-ALASKA MILITARY CABLE AND TELEGRAPH SYSTEM
TELEGRAM

RECEIVED AT 1308 1ST AVENUE, SEATTLE, WASH.

18RD B 78 GOVT DUPE

RD PUGETSOUND WN AUG 22 1924

GOVT COMDT 13 NAV DIST

SEATTLE WN

7021 ALNAVSTA EIGHT NAVY DESIRES COOPERATE ASTRONOMERS WHO BELIEVE POSSIBLE THAT MARS MAY ATTEMPT COMMUNICATION BY RADIO WAVES WITH THIS PLANET WHILE THEY ARE NEAR TOGETHER THIS END ALL SHORE RADIO STATIONS WILL ESPECIALLY NOTE AND REPORT ANY ELECTRICAL PHENOMENON UNUSUAL CHARACTER AND WILL COVER AS WIDE BAND FREQUENCIES AS POSSIBLE FROM 2400 AUGUST TWENTY FIRST TO 2400 AUGUST TWENTY FOURTH WITHOUT INTERFERRING WITH TRAFFIC 1800

SECNAV WASHN DC

257P

John Byrnes sent the following beautiful letter to his 2-year-old daughter in 1942, months after being called to New Guinea to fight the japanese forces during World War II. Realising that he may never return home, Byrnes wrote an extremely personal, heart-wrenching message in an effort to explain his current situation. Unfortunately - to me at least - the conclusion to this story is unknown, but hopefully this wasn't the last contact he made.

Transcript follows.













Transcript

Wednesday
Oct 21, 1942

My Dear Little Girl,

Last night was a beautiful moonlit night. Every star that studded the sky was sparkling like a jewel. The air was crisp, but faintly perfumed, with all the fragrances only a lovely spring night can devise. Today it is raining hard, the wind is fierce and cold. Yes! It is miserable, something you want to pass by quickly, so that the night will again be beautiful.

Life too, Anne, is like the weather. Some days are so lovely, the happenings of those days so enchanting, you never can forget them. Some are so unhappy, you wish they never happened but, alas, they must for your life, your Mother’s, mine, everyone’s is so mixed up with joy and sadness that you never have one or the other for long. One replaces the other with a speed that is amazing.

Thus it happened just two years ago. Your Mother knew and I knew that you were going to be born. Those days were anxious ones, Anne. As the days went by your Mother used to smile at me with those lovely brown eyes. Eyes that shone with courage and resolve. If she had anxiety in her mind she never showed it but it must have been there. In my heart and mind torments raged that no one will ever know. But through all the doubts all the worries and all the long, anxious hours an end came, bringing with it, you.

From that hour, it was early in the morning, the lives of two people were filled with inexplicable happiness. When I called to see your Mother that day I shall never forget the beauty, the happiness that shone up at me from her precious little face. Neither will I forget the pride and the joy that surged right through me when the nurse brought you along and I held you in my arms.

Soon we took you home. The months sped by, and you gradually took a hold in our hearts. You laughed so much at such silly things we did to claim your attention. We showed you off to so many people. Your eyes, so big and questioning never failed to win admiration. Your curly hair was indeed a special joy.

And as each month sped by you grew. First you sat up, then stood up, then crawled, then walked. As each stage passed funny little incidents occurred. Perhaps no one ever noticed them or remembered them. But your Mother and I did. Every night, when I came home from work, there were stories of your conduct through the day to be told. Some days you were good and others you were naughty. Like, for instance, the day when a little mischievous spirit seized onto you and strips of wall paper came from the wall, Other thoughts came crowding into my mind, memories of days gone by when we laughed at you, scolded you, and, some serious times when we worried over you.

The first year of your life passed away, quickly perhaps, but you grew so quickly every day was an adventure not only for yourself but for us. You had a party for your first birthday, and although you sat up like Jacky you probably will never remember it. But that day you got “Goog’ga” for a present. Poor “Goog-ga”. As each week passed he got dirtier and more worn. And the dirtier he got the more you loved him. Then at Xmas,”Teddy” came along. Dear old Teddy. So plump and with such a frizzy coat. In a few months he was still plump but his hair was not so frizzy. Then, you’d never go to sleep unless Teddy and “Goog-ga” were tucked in with you. You’ll never know how angelic, how like a cherub you looked, when after your bath you were popped into bed with your little playmates. Indeed God is good. How many times have your Mother and I crept in to see you sleeping. And how many times have I wiped away tears, gentle little tears of happiness from her eyes when we came out.

All those days were so beautiful, like the night I sat and watched yesterday evening. But soon came the rain. Your lovely country, so free and so proud, was fighting for its life. Those indeed were dark days. I had to leave Mother and you and become a soldier. Thousands of other Daddies went too, because we had to fight so that all the Mothers and little boys and girls could live happily. That was many months ago. I do not know how long it will be before we will be home again together. But rain my little darling does not last for ever.
Through the blackest clouds a little piece of blue appears. The wind blows, and soon the clouds go. So too will peace come and then we can be all happy again.

Because I’m a soldier now Anne I cannot attend your birthday this year. You are going to have a party and I wont be there. But while that party is on I’ll be thinking of you and your Mother. Thinking of the day you came along, and of the days that have gone by since. You are lovely now, like your Mother. Some day, when you grow up, some man is going to be lost in your loveliness, like I was when I fell in love with your Mother. But no matter. We cannot have you forever. While we do we’ll teach you all the lovely things of life, and there are so many beautiful things in life. There are, too, bad things and, these also we will tell you about so that you’ll know how to pass them by.

Maybe it will be years before you will be able to read this letter but when you can you’ll know at least how much we love you and how much you mean to us.

I am looking forward to seeing you soon and to seeing those big brown eyes of yours laugh back at me. Until then my little girl.

Goodbye and God bless you on your birthday.

From your adoring

“Dad-da”

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

~

Where there is love there is life.

~

"A coward dies a thousnad deaths,

A real man dies,but ones"

Tupac Amaru Shakur

~

"People travel to wonder at the height of the mountains,
at the huge waves of the seas, at the long course of the rivers,
at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars,
and yet they pass by themselves without wondering."

St. Augustine,

Let us accept the inner life, the spiritual life. Mistakes in our journey are inevitable. Success without endeavour is impossibility itself. No work, no progress. Experience we must welcome, for we can learn nothing without experience. The experience may be either encouraging or discouraging. But it is experience that makes us a real being, that shows us the true meaning of our very existence.

- Sri Chinmoy

~

Let no man pull you low enough to hate him.

Faith is taking the first step,even though you dont see the whole staircase.

Martin Luther King Jr.

~

"There are only two ways to live your life.
One is as though nothing is a miracle.
The other is as if everything is."

Albert Einstein

~

“And in the end, it's not the years in your life
that count. It's the life in your years.”

~

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Emily Dickinson

~

As I was having breakfast over at my Grandmother's place today,the phone rang.After a few moments of silence my grandmother said,what's the matter.This was followed by "I shall come in a few hours".It turns out her uncle has died.Her brief words were "My uncle died.He was really old.He was 90".This made me think about the transcience of life and how death is viewed in the from a personal point of observation.As if in old age nature's aparatus functions in a way to help you come to piece with death.The older you are the more frequently you recieve such news and the more you expect them.I was really surprised at my grandmothers calm reaction to the phone call at first.Even though he was old,he was still a close relative.
Her reaction didn't mean she felt no grief.Oh,no.That was just an event she expected,and in her expectance she slowly came to peace with the death of her uncle.Or maybe she just gradually came to peace with natural death with every such call she recieved and every one of the latter kind she expected to recieve.And in the proccess of coming to piece with the unpreventable demise of loved ones,surely one comes to peace with the one fact known about him/her at birth.But is that a better faith I ask you?Dying of old age,or as some people reffer to it-natural death.I am certainly not afraid of death-that would be pointless.But there something woefull about natural demise.At least for me.Death might be promissed to you but certainly one should not end his life jurney in expectance of his own end.And even sadder it is when others manifest this expectance when thinking of you.
I think it matters not when you die in terms of age.Every human beign has a mission-personal or altruistic,worthy or unworthy.And I think this mission,goal,aspiration,obligation or however you label it is what perscribes meaning to ones life.If you have lived your whole life with no meaning,the you just wait for death your whole life.Or more commonly, maybe for some reason this mission has not been achieved until a time when your organism simply wears out,leaving one incapable of doing what he/she believes must be done.I know I have a mission and if I don't acomplish it my old age will be a prolonged agony.And if I do.....well,if I do I will surely find another one,but never will I let myself or others arround me linger in expectance of the inevitable.
PS:My grandmother left shortly after breakfast.

Edit:The same thing happened a week later.The ractions were the same.The situation was remarcably simmiliar.