Posts Tagged beach t. weston

Where iz et Your Hiding Place Mon Cherie!?

L’amour!
by Beach T. Weston
“Just Beachie Column”

L’amour! Love, sweet love. And this is the month to express it freely. If you need inspiration, Pepé Le Pew will be happy to be your guide, for the sweet-smelling skunk never fails to win his true love’s heart. Whoops! Maybe I should have said he never fails to pursue his true love’s heart. No matter her rejections, Pepe remains unwavering in the quest for kisses from his beautiful Cherie.

“We are inseparable…are we not darling!?” smooches Pepé as he tries to convince the object of his affection, Penelope Pussycat, that his only desire is to make love to her in the Casbah.

     “Eney, meeny, miny, moe,
     Catch a lover by the toe.
     If she holler hold her closer,
     Eney, meeny, miny, moesa.
     O-U-T! spells I LOVE YOU!”

Could it be that Pepe is truly in love? Or is he just in love with love? Amoureux de l’amour.

Like so many of us, I think we are just in love with love, which isn’t a bad thing unless of course you hookup with the Tasmanian Devil and allow them to swirl so quickly through your romantic life that by the time they depart you feel as if a tornado has imploded your heart. Your emotions splintered and scattered in the after mass.

But even after Taz encounters of the worst kind, love is delightful! Love gives you the sensation of bouncing on fluffy pink clouds. Love makes life good. Love makes life fun! Love helps us endure hard times and celebrate good times.

Hard-knocks have given many a heart pain, mine included, and yet, I still believe in love. I believe in the magic of love. It is the only true power in the world. A divine presence. A heavenly force.

Let February be the month we enjoy the philosophy of Pepé Le Pew, and follow your romantic heart: slip into something more comfortable, pop the bubbly and sing words of love to your Cherie.

In Peace and L’amour
Beach

© Beach T. Weston 2017

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Hip-Hop and Waka r Goin’ Vegan…Yes!

Waka Flocka Flame is both enlightening and hysterical when he talks about being a vegan as he and friend Raury make blueberry muffins” Peta.org

 

Don’t Ya Just Love a Good Ghost Story?

BOO! gost pic6

Don’t Ya Just Love a Good Ghost Story?
by Beach T. Weston
“Just Beachie Column”

While this particular column may have no profound meaning—it will be a source of spooky entertainment. For who doesn’t love a good ghost story? It’s an imaginative story told to me many moons ago, and has remained forever in my index of EErie and hair-raising tales. Completely untrue I’m sure, but then again, maybe not.

“It’s time for a chilling tale”, announced my thespian friend.

Actors can exaggerate at times. Being one, I can appreciate the necessity of hammy-embellishment. However, this particular Ham-spian was over the top when he began to tell a ghostly story complete with unsettling sounds, and unexplainable sightings.

“It was late summer,” he began. “I was hiking alone, deep in the woods—being one with nature. Birds trilled from tree tops, and pine needles crunched under my boots. I was charmed by the rustling leaves (announcing an early fall) when I noticed about five-hundred feet from the hiking trail, flickers of gold light streamed through a grove of Pine trees. I was enticed by curiosity and proceeded to follow the source of strange illumination. As I entered the grove, the trees seemed prudently planted—as if arranged to skillfully lead me to a dilapidated, two-story house. Faded green shutters dangled from corroded hinges, and blocks of wood shingles shifted in the breeze. The old house telepathically invited me to enter. I stepped onto the rickety porch and the front door opened as if I was being welcomed, but by whom!? There was no one there…”

At this point in the tale, everyone who had gathered around Ham-spian was completely engaged. We knew he was full of it, but the story was damn intriguing and sucked us into the moment of story-telling-reality. A place where part of you knows it couldn’t possibly be true, and the other part, I want to believe in fairy tales, believes it to be fact.

“…I entered the living room…the couch was covered in a stained yellow sheet, and tables looked as if they had never been dusted. There were no footprints or fingerprints, only decaying books and a broken lantern. As I continued to investigate, the upstairs floorboards began to creak. The sound near to a moan. I shouted, “IS THERE SOMEONE THERE?” No answer. The creaking traveled above my head and onto the stairwell landing. And as it did…a whoosh of cold air needled my skin. And then…an unearthly growl reverberated off the walls.”

“What the hell did you do!?”

“I ran! Of course. As fast as I could! Out the front door and back through the tree lined path. My heart has never beat so fast. It was damn weird. But, for some reason…I’m not sure why…I came to a dead halt…as if my feet were stuck in quicksand. I turned to the house, and what I saw in the second-story window you won’t believe…” 

There was utter silence. You could have heard a strand of hay hit the floor.

Red eyes! Two…glowing…redeyes. Ahhh Woooooo!!!” Ham-spian howled—his fingers making exaggerated clawing jesters.

Chances are Ham-spian’s story was a wheelbarrow of horse manure, although he swears to this day that he saw the red eyes, and that they often haunt his dreams.

Yeah right.

But then again, many say ghost and hauntings really exist.

I shall explore more of this phenomenon in columns to come. But for now—next time you sit around a campfire, roasting your vegetarian hot dogs, listen to the sounds of the night as you tell stories of ghosts and spirits past.

In peace, love and a few EEECHS! and BOOS!
Beach

© Beach T. Weston 2016

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A Master Artist Uses One Stroke

I usually post short videos, but this is worth the extra time. This Master Artists never breaks his strokes. Amazing!

Oy Vey!!! Another New Year!

oy vey new year colored fireworks

Oy Vey!!! Another Year!
By Beach T. Weston
“Just Beachie Column”

It’s 2016, time to start afresh! Make new plans! Clean out the closets! Clean the garage and make room for the car! Loose the under-arm jiggle! Firm up the ab’s! Blah…blah…blah! An endless list…right!?

The first week of January, 2016, I half-heartedly began to write my New Year’s resolutions when I realized, I had completed very few of my resolutions from 2015. And then I realized, there were unfulfilled ambitions dating back to…well…let’s just say a long time ago. The good news was at least half of them were no longer necessary or meaningful. So I scratched them off the list.

Yeah!

Progress had been made.

Sort of.

At least I had removed cobwebs and wiped the dust off of long-held-goals. For a moment, I was proud of myself, I dared to move forward instead of sitting on the beach and never getting my toes wet.

As I proceeded, I wondered if “The List” would be worth it. Maybe I should just say phooey to New Year’s resolutions. Phooey to making the same ole promises, half of which I probably wouldn’t keep. My new list began to give me a self-fulfilled prophecy of disappointment. I wanted to feel happy! To feel inspired! Not feel a sense of Auld Lange Syne melancholy.

Continuing to ponder on my hopes and dreams, questions popped into my mind: Is the New Year really a new beginning? Is the New Year a time to vow that we will rid ourselves of bad behavior and conditions, which no longer nourish our souls?

The questions reverberated off the walls of my mind. I flashed to the memory of yodeling from the rim of the Grand Canyon; the re-echo bounced around until tranquil silence was restored.

It was clear to me…forging forward into a more peaceful, loving life is imperative.

But, here’s a thought: What if a New Year became a time for completion of the old, not listing the promise of the new. Maybe once again listing the twenty pounds you swore you’d loose in the 20th century would be fruitless. Perhaps instead of a resolution’s list, create a different kind of list. Perhaps a more humorous list?


     In the spirit of humor may I suggest a few title possibilities:

     A) Let’s Wrap It Up!

     B) Poo Or Get Off The Pot!

     C) Fix It Or Forget About It!


Personally, I prefer Poo Or Get Off The Pot! It makes me laugh, and as it has been proven, laughter can move mountains. Or in this case; laughter can help us clear our life’s clutter and achieve our heart’s desires. And have fun doing it!

 Think of the beginning of a New Year as a pile of Elephant Dung in the middle of the room. You can ignore it or clean it up. If you choose to ignore the dung it will eventually stink! If you choose to clean it up, as messy as it may be—the sweet smell of success will permeate the room, and filter through your life.

Hau’oli Makahiki Hou!  Happy New Year!

In Peace and Love
Beach

© Beach T. Weston 2016

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“Out of a mountain of despair, a stone of hope.” Martin Luther King Jr.

Let this great man’s unwavering dream of freedom apply not only to humanity, but to all creatures of the earth—for humans cannot be completely free of their chains until the rights for animals are respected and protected. Animal’s blight for freedom goes hand-in-hand with man’s blight for freedom.

“A mountain lion has taken its first steps to freedom after spending 20 years chained to the back of a truck.

With its spirit broken by more than two decades of captivity, this is the moment the circus cat was found in Peru by Animal Defenders International.

For 20 years he was carted from village to village to perform on demand, but earlier this year, Mufasa the mountain lion was finally rescued from an illegal Peruvian circus.

Given his animal instincts seemed to be diminished, it’s likely Mufasa was sold into the exotic pet trade as an infant.

Not even afforded the comfort of a cage, Mufasa was shackled to the open bed of a truck where he’d sleep among the circus tent poles.
“It was heartbreaking to see Mufasa chained among the circus equipment, living on the back of a pickup truck,” Jan Creamer, president of Animal Defenders International (ADI), said in a statement.
“A heavy harness and chains were wrapped around his body and as we cut them away, he stretched, free, for the first time.”

Luckily for Mufasa, in the wake of Puru’s 2011 ban on performing circus animals, an eight hour stand-off between ADI’s Operation Spirit of Freedom and his owners culminated in the big cat’s rescue.

Emaciated due to malnourishment, when ADI found him, the mountain lion was in poor health.
However, it wasn’t just his health that suffered, it was his nerves, as rescuers described him as ‘quite nervous’.
Determined to nurse him back to full health and bring him out of his shell, the team at ADI’s Spirit of Freedom rescue centre in Lima, Peru did their best to rehabilitate him.
“His appetite and coat condition have improved after receiving specialist veterinary treatment,” the group said.
It wasn’t long before he bounced back though, paving the way for ADI to ready him for his new home at Taricaya Ecological Reserve.

Unfortunately, Mufasa can never return to the wild, but in lieu of his natural habitat, a bespoke enclosure had been prepared by the reserve to replicate his native environment.

Safe at last, these photos show the heartwarming moment the big cat took his first steps to freedom in his new enclosure.
“Mufasa was torn from the wild and has endured the worst possible life,” Creamer said. “[His] story symbolizes the suffering we have ended.”
“It is magical to see him moving about in and out of the trees in his own piece of protected forest,” Creamer said.” [fuzzfix.com]

The Search for Happiness

Praising the Sun

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”    Mahatma Gandhi 

The Search For Happiness
by Beach T. Weston
“Just Beachie Column”

Ahhh…the search for happiness. Most of us spend our entire lives pursuing happiness. To have our cups runneth over with jubilation.

Some succeed.

Some find moments of happiness.

And for some, happiness is always elusive.

The Buddhist call this state of perfect happiness and peace, Nirvana. Where one transcends into bliss. There is no suffering. No desire or ego. It is as if the Angels open the golden gates of Heaven and gift complete joy, and enlightenment.

I believe in Nirvana because I have personally experienced paradise in this dimension. For me, Nirvana is a transformation from the chaos of the world to a place so perfect that I am truly at peace with everything and everyone—if only for brief moments. All is good. All is right.

My first remembrance of pure bliss was on a gorgeous summer afternoon—late August—Nevada’s West Walker River. I had comfortably plunked my derrière in the center of an inner tube, delighting in the river’s cool water. My dog, Snoopy, an ever so gentle Cocker Spaniel was my companion, and being true to his name was skillfully investigating the landscape. Snoopy used his fantastic sense of smell as did Sherlock Holmes when he used his astute abilities to solve difficult cases. And again true to his nature, Snoopy was always cracking the case of the mysterious smell.

There was vacant land for miles surrounding my afternoon joy. Not a soul in site. Across the river was a grove of Oak trees, which gave shade and sanctuary to many a critter. This particular group of trees were residents long before I was born and never failed to offer me a sense of tranquility.

This would have been a normal afternoon had it not been for the deer that casually walked out of the grove. It was a buck in velvet, its horns covered in a fur-like coat. At first, I thought he would see me and run, but instead he sauntered down to the river’s bank and began to nibble on the wild grass.

I purposely moved about in my inner tube to make sure the deer knew I was watching. The movement did not disturb him. I called Snoopy to my side and this did not disturb him. Snoopy and I continued to watch the deer’s every move. Our presence made no difference to his calm, carefree demeanor.

Being the animal lover I am, I began to talk to him. I told him how beautiful he was and how honored I was to be in his presence. And I explained that like himself, I was also a vegetarian. Now, I know when I tell this story one might consider my deer conversation to be, well, let’s say…odd. But in truth it was a delightful exchange.

 Our harmonious interaction went on for about five minutes before a Monarch Butterfly fluttered from the grove of old Oaks and began to dance around the deer’s antlers. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, it was like being part of a Disney animation. The only thing missing was Bambi, Thumb…Thumb…Thumber and sweet smelling Flower the Skunk.

Snoopy was an exceptional canine, but he was a dog and I expected him to bark or growl or make some notice, but it seemed as if even he was awed by our new friends.

This magical moment continued for quite some time until the deer raised his head as if to say goodbye, turned and walked in a leisurely pace back into the grove, all the while the Monarch kept on dancing around his velvet.

It has been over thirty years since I experience that moment of magical bliss, but the memory, the emotion is as if it happened yesterday. I have experienced exquisite moments of Nirvana since then, but they are fleeting and I quickly return to the challenges of life.

I wonder if it is possible to live in a state of Nirvana 24/7. To experience every day of life as if it were Heaven on Earth. I wish I could tell you I know for sure it is possible, and everyone who pursues happiness will eventually find it and become the enlighten beings as is believed in Buddhism.

 Perhaps (Is it possible?) is a question all of us should ask ourselves. Perhaps we should never stop asking, and never stop pursuing happiness no matter the end result. For happiness gives hope and hope gives happiness.

In Peace and Love
Beach

 © Beach T. Weston 2019

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