Yeah, happiness.
Somewhat elusive, yes?
Follow the flow chart above to achieve total consciousness.
And keep doing whatever you're doing.
Or something like that . . .

Special dedication tonight as I recall a smoky dive from the 50's called the 'Waltz Club'  . . . Long story and definitely not one for this blog. I knew of one of the patron saints of the place, from what I've heard. Sweet dreams, lady, sweet and smoky dreams Maybe I'll see you in them . . . [11.9.09] *I find it intensely gratifying (for very personal reasons) to give you the list of the players on this archaic recording: Johnny Hartman, vocal John Coltrane, tenor sax McCoy Tyner, piano Jimmy Garrison, bass Elvin Jones, drums God must have been engineering.

I StumbledUpon a short article one night that stopped me in my tracks. It was titled, "If your blog disappeared, who would miss it?" I thought about the question for a good long time and came to the conclusion that, yeah, there are many people that would miss it. I do hope I'm right. I am no egomaniac but I do feel that some folks would, yours truly being one. I've been blogging now for almost five years with no foreseeable end in sight. It's been the reaction to my words and thoughts that's kept me going strong for 5, to be honest. Some comments I've received are seemingly deeper than the posts I've written. It would seem that I'm fishing for compliments here, but I am definitely not. I have 5 questions for anyone kind enough to take the time to answer them. I appreciate your honesty and feedback.

1. What is it that makes you visit me again?
2. What do you not like about Smoke and Mirrors? (be honest)
3. What would you like to see more of (or less of) in the future?
4. Would you like to see something different?
5. What is your favorite post and why? (longtime readers only)

There are more questions that I have but I don't want to keep you here forever (a little white lie, methinks) I made this post relatively short to give you a few moments to comment. I thank all of you dearly in advance.

Bobby Minara was a firefighter in Manhattan. Ladder Company 25. On September 11, 2001, he was 54 years old and almost ready to retire. I found the next little snippet online from a woman named 'Rita' that knew the family. "The last time I was with Bob was July of 2001. Bob and Paula and my brothers Tom and Mike were all together to celebrate the baptisim of my daughter's triplets, John, Michael, and Thomas. He was his usual happy self and he had three shirts from the firehouse for the boys (they still wear them). Bob was going to retire in September and I remember Paula telling us she had a "sick feeling" and she wished he would leave now.  Bob laughed and said "I'm 54, how can I retire "He felt guilty". I'll always remember that day." Intuition is a scary thing sometimes. I wondered how many people had a 'feeling' that morning 8 years ago. From what I've been able to find on the web, Bobby was a regular guy with family and friends that loved him. He died in the line of duty at the World Trade Center. In researching this post, I was horrified at the number of firefighters and emergency personnel that perished. I found the picture for this post on Google and could only assume that the memorial stone is near Ground Zero or the firehouse. When I visit NYC next year, I plan on finding the stone if only to say a short prayer for the man I am paying tribute to today. My thoughts and prayers go out to the Minara family today as I know this nightmare will never end for them. Bobby died doing what he'd done his entire life - helping a total stranger to safety. May God bless this unsung hero and give solace to all the hearts that he left behind. In closing, I found a quote from a firefighters remembrance page. It was quite simple and I could almost hear Bobby saying it: "If my job was easy, a cop would be doing it." Rest in the arms of the angels, RM Thank you for keeping us safe. (I hope I haven't offended anyone using his nickname  'Bobby'. I used it with the utmost respect.) Click here for my 2006 tribute to Amy Jarret, a stewardess on United Airlines Flight 175. Special thanks to Dale for keeping this thing going with his undying focus. There's a very special place in heaven for you, my man.

For me this post signifies many things: loss, discovery, deletion, pain, expectations, choices, devil-is-in-the-details, denial and ultimately The truth . . . Cryptic, I know and I apologize for my strange and mysterious ways. The following poem has been used for many purposes over the years, based on its various interpretations. Methinks, that's why it's such a great piece of literature. It spoke multitudes to me tonight. If you've read it, read it again. If you haven't, you are in for a real treat. I'll be off in the distance chasing away the endless cumulonimbus clouds again . . .

The Road Not Taken

by Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler , long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I marked the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

I have always found this kind of thing fascinating. This short clip from MetaCafe puts things somewhat into perspective. So, the next time you're feeling a bit small in this big 'ol world know that in the grand scheme of things, you are. Just being a wiseass. Enjoy the clip.

Pathological . . . Lies will see the light of days Someone knows the truth

~m

Now and then I press play on my Nano and a song comes up that literally penetrates my soul, like today. It hasn't been a very good day for reasons I refuse to go into; my life, my problems. I listened to this song from a band called Casting Crowns Ironically, I first heard the band while sitting in the car (station surfing) waiting for Pamela to come out of church a few Sundays ago. The Man upstairs definitely has a plan for me. My soul is tired, as am I. But that's okay. Enjoy the lyrics. I feel I could have written them myself. And though I'm not a big God guy, these words spoke to me tonight. I've included no hyperlinks to buy anything. You're on your own if you really want to hear the tune. And it's real nice stuff. It's Toad the Wet Sprocket meets God, or something like that. For anyone worried about the deeper implications of this post, I'm fine. I have my one and only and the wonderful Man upstairs. They both try like hell to keep me sane, a tough job. I think I'm in very good hands. For now . . . *EAST TO WEST Here I am Lord and I'm drowning In your sea of forgetfulness The chains of yesterday surround me I yearn for peace and rest I don't want to end up where you found me And it echoes in my mind Keeps me awake tonight I know you've cast my sins as far As the East is from the West And I stand before you now As though I've never sinned but today I feel like I'm just one mistake away From you leaving me this way Jesus can you show me Just how far the East is from the West Cause I can't bear to see the man I've been Come rising up in me again In the arms of your mercy, I find rest Cause you know just how far the East is from the West From one scarred hand to the other I start the day, the war begins And less reminding of my sin Time and time again Your truth is drowned out by the storm I'm in Today I feel like I'm just one mistake away From you leaving me this way Jesus can you show me Just how far the East is from the West Cause I can't bear to see the man I've been Come rising up in me again In the arms of your mercy I find rest Cause you know just how far the East is from the West From one scarred hand to the other I know you've washed me white Turned my darkness into light I need your peace to get me through To get me through this night I can't live by what I feel But by the truth your word reveals I'm not holding on to you But your holding on to me Your holding on to me Jesus, you know just how far The East is from the West I don't have to see the man I've been Come rising up in me again In the arms of your mercy I find rest Cause you know just how far the East is from the West From one scarred hand to the other ~m