Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Surfing violation!

I thought I was surfing by myself today, having a peaceful session, a quiet communion with the sea, a glorious moment of here and now. I was one with all and everything that will ever be. It was one of those special times when everything falls in place and conspires with you. I took it all in as another set wave lined up towards me. I began to paddle only to realize that I was not alone.
Something had joined me and had been there the whole time but just now made its presence known as I'm dropping into a overhead wall of water. I lost focus and went over the falls hitting hard in the shallow beach break. The wipe out didn't even distract me from the violation I was experiencing in my wetsuit. Something was crawling along my taint. That's right! Taint! That nether area between ones genitals and anus. Something was working hard to become one with me via my rectum. I scrambled to shore and quickly stripped down my wetsuit to my ankles. As I swept my fingers through the crack of my ass as if I were saving a choking victim by clearing the airway, I gathered a couple of pill bugs, "rolly pollies", armadillo like insects that roll up into a ball as a defense, but apparently try to frantically crawl up ones ass when confronted with drowning in a wetsuit.
Now I have seen pill bugs take refuge in my wetsuit before and I have always consciously shaken them out before donning my suit, but a couple must have escaped my efforts this time and they didn't share my love for the ocean. I suppose in a way they did share a love for me.

Monday, September 24, 2012

What are they?

Filings...rusty, iron and magnetic
Tissues...bloody, skinny and sticky
One of endurance, one of impermanence
Hemoglobin oxidized and fed
Fleshy, steely, cold and maybe human
Blue eyed, red eyed and curved straight
Casted, shaped until formless
Its warm again and wet
Oily, greasy and black
Either way I don't trust 'em

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Pick Me Up

Ask one dark whisper of night to talk time and glow
To light peace
To tell magic songs to me
For I am born blue and down

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Max Ludwig

I was given a home work assignment by one of Max's teachers to describe him in a million words or less. Try not to get all misty eyed on me, Max. Here it is:
Max Ludwig is my son and I'm proud to say so. He's also many other things. He's a runner (a fast one), a football player (a natural one), a basketball player, a "foody", a reader, a builder, an artist and babysitter. He's considerate of others except when he's excited, angry, tired or hungry (just like the rest of us). He likes animals especially dogs despite being attacked by one when he was 2. He's fearless. He's kind to small children and loves babies. He sometimes thinks his parents are lame, because sometimes they are and other times he's angry, tired or hungry. He hates failure and gets frustrated. He can be a perfectionist, and later realizes that's ridiculous. He laughs at himself. He's got a great laugh. He's silly. He makes a difference. He's got lots of friends, but a few who are special to him. He's loved very much by his parents, who wish he would go sailing with them more often.

-Max's Dad (Stephen Ludwig)

Monday, September 10, 2012

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Fools Are We!

The number one definition of fool in Webster's New World Dictionary reads: a person with little or no judgment, common sense or wisdom. This definition sums up the human race as a whole, or should I say a- hole.
I know I can get pessimistic and shout upon my soap box about the dismal state of world affair, but I don't take myself so seriously as to think I'm not a fool and I have been fooled and I have acted foolishly. I am a fool. We are all fools, yet when most of us are faced with this reality we become defensive, angry and scared.
Maybe what we're really angry and scared about is Webster's New World Dictionary's number three definition of fool: a victim of a joke or trick; duped. Let's face it, all those fools which fall under the number one definition have fooled those of us that fall under the number three definition. They claim to  have everything under control. And they do...if you believe it! Religions, governments, corporations and all our esteemed institutions have duped us all.
The truth is that we've all been played by the cosmic joke. The punchline reads: humans are not important, they are dust specs upon dust specs, they have no control over the universe nor their fate, they lack comprehension of their plight and try to find meaning in a situation which they lack the ability to understand. We should be humbled by this but we're not. We struggle to find meaning that defines our lives. We invent religion with stories of gods, magic, heaven and hell...everlasting life. We imagine there's a universal struggle between "good" and "evil". We create governments and laws to control the masses, to exploit "have nots" (those without power, money or voice) so the "haves" continue to have.
What happens when one realizes she's been fooled?  How would you feel? Which fool are you? Are you going to keep killing in the name of your country or god? Are you going to keep telling yourself that your more important then the people who paint there faces differently than yours. Are you going to let money define who you are?
We as one human race, one consciousness can define who we are. Individuals can do horrible things and fool the masses, and the masses can do wonderful things and fool the individual. If I deny the rights of another I deny the same right to myself, but if a society denies the right of an individual it denies the right of all...in other words society screws itself.
We are an interesting species that has the ability to be self aware and to contemplate our place in the universe and as a individual this is a fun and exciting exercise in futility, but as a individual begins to define the place in the universe for all species, she becomes God. This is the ultimate blasphemy. I don't claim or disclaim the existence of God...I just don't know and neither do you. Don't pretend through "faith" that you do. Again, that is blasphemy. Religion shapes God into a finite being that serves the religion and the followers. Sounds like vanity.
We are all in this together and we can continue to act foolishly and continue to poison our water, air and food. Together we can destroy life while thinking of ourselves as important or we can think of ourselves as the fools that we are. We just need to agree upon what definition of fool we are.
 There is another definition of fool in Webster's New World Dictionary that reads: [SLANG] a person especially devoted to or skilled in some activity [a dancing fool]. As you can see the definition is slang, but enough people got together and started using fool in the positive and now it's part of our vernacular.
Maybe I'm just a fool for thinking I can make a difference and it's all in vain. One image comes into my mind as I've preached to you. It is the image of Gandalf the Grey in The Lord of the Rings hanging on the edge of a fiery pit before falling in and after saving the lives of a dwarf, an elf, some humans and hobbits, he says, "Run...you fools!" and then he falls. And run we should for time is short. By the way, The Lord of the Rings has a happy ending.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Spring

Warmed, sunned, tanned and lined
Sitting, observing I've become witness... a participant, a living thing
An orgy of spring and green
A fluorescent term of botanical sperm which floats upon the air and falls
Sweet in its colors of all


Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Itchy

The feeling is impulse and the skin is red
I hope it's not all false and all in my head
But I feel it and see it perhaps I could be it
A satisfaction scratched, an egg about to hatch

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Stillness

I left and came back today, yesterday, tomorrow
I don't know how long I was gone, maybe ages
A climpse of eternity, a forgotful thought
A timeless space left me older yet unchanged, maybe wiser
All I know is that the same music was playing, yet the sound had changed
I was still, quiet and alone but not lonely
I was everything and nothing
I was... I am... I will be... not


Monday, March 12, 2012

El Huachinango rides again

"Were you the guys stuck in the mud on the bay?" For all of those who doubt my wife and mine's sailing ability... F U ( F U = N O). You know who you are.  Enough said about that.
Yesterday Jen and I took El Huachinango out for a spin and she performed beautifully, especially in 20 knot winds with an unreefed mainsail. The rail didn't even get wet on a stiff close haul with a 6 to 7ft SW swell coming through the harbor entrance. What a great boat!
Oh... I'm sorry. Let me translate the sailor speak for all you landlubbers. Me and my Beeotch went for a ride in our yacht, El Huachinango. We cruised up to North side from South side and encountered some bitch-ass waves and some punk-ass wind. That's when El Huachinango said, "Who you callin' a punk?" and then El Huachinango leaned into that those punk-ass waves and began to throw down like Ali. Then the punk-ass wind started to mad dog El Huachi. Well El Huachi would have none of that and ... BAM! El Huachi laid him out! Me and my woman didn't even get our hands dirty. Peace out!

Monday, February 20, 2012

She's Back in the Water!

Me feeling high after applying the hull paint.
Happy boat...just add water!
She's back in the water!

First mate, Jen. She's first mate on the boat and Captain at home.







After 2 weeks of sanding, painting and cleaning our 1967 Yankee Dolphin 24 hull #80 is ready to sail. Stay tuned!

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Bugs

Cellulose...gray, galvanized and worn
Hides the insects from which they were born
Wind, rain, cold and heat seek to do the crushing of feet
They mob and pile and drown for awhile
To be filled with life and ooze with nothing to choose

Monday, January 23, 2012

Dirt

Roots in earth, wormy things and birth
We have a short ways to go
The blow as we grow, the cry of good-bye
We have a short ways to fall
Through the branchy things, the grabby things
The things that make us crawl

Monday, January 9, 2012

The gift of a Father

The gift of a son is less than the gift  of a father
For the son knows not what he is
The son will become heartbreak when he sees the ways of his father... eventually
Good or bad... he will not follow
The gift of the father lays upon knowing this
Expect nothing and give every respect
Know the son will follow his path to joy... let him break your heart to find it.