In this Journal, I will attempt to strip away my protective veneer to view and communicate honestly what the truth is as I perceive it. My intent is to grow, for without an honest evaluation of the truth, how else can one fully absorb life's more difficult lessons and benefit by them. If I do this in secret, then I am still hiding behind a protective veneer, so it is being published online. If you find this Journal, you are welcome to read it and hopefully grow from it as well.



Sunday, August 2, 2020

A Homeless Man

Yesterday evening, as I drove home with hot dinners for Anne and me in the trunk, I saw something unusual for this area.

It was a homeless man. He was laying face up, his upper torso raised, on a sidewalk at the entrance to a church parking lot.

I turned the car around and drove back to check on him to be sure he was okay, as I stopped next to him. He smiled and told me he was fine.

Friday, July 3, 2020

Can I Have Another Hour

This afternoon, as the bright sunlight set my backyard aglow, I saw where Impatiences once bloomed and my four-year-old granddaughter Carina picked some of them for her grandmother.

She would happily pick the red and pink and yellow and gold and blue blossoms and put them in a bowl of water for them to float.

At times, I would object because so many of the blossoms disappeared from the yard. But alas I saw my foolishness and encouraged little Carina to pick them to her heart’s content.

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

A Wonderful World

In a world saying never, these are ways I shall make it better:

I will smile warmly to others, listen to what they say, wish them a wonderful day.
I will compliment all the good, withhold my criticism but share my witticism.
I will be kind to all in deed, generous to those in need and to their heart-spoken words I will heed.
I will welcome others into traffic and into each grocery line, for I seek for us to bind.

I will, if you have a bad day, and we meet say, "Welcome dear friend, do not fear, for together we are here to make bad times disappear." And maybe, just maybe you will say, "I hope again he comes my way."

With Love To All - Dick

Sunday, February 16, 2020

The Meaning Of Life

As a 75-year-old man who has long embraced and explored life, especially on a spiritual level, this to me is The Meaning Of Life:

Friday, November 29, 2019

Being Interviewed By 6-Year-Old Ikaika

Last night on Thanksgiving, Anne's and my 6-year-old grandson Ikaika interviewed me for his 1st grade class project about the Kazan family history.

Ikaika was joined by his mom Diane, who took notes and also helped put my answers in context and by his big brother Keoni who also explained the answers to him.

Ikaika asked why our family came to America and from where, who came and when, and did war play a role.

"Fuck You Bitch," The Man Screamed

On the day before Thanksgiving, an 80-ish petite woman drove her car out of a parking lot and waited for traffic to let her in.

In doing so, she cut in front of a 60-ish heavy set middle-eastern man, about 6-feet tall. He instantly screamed, "fuck you bitch." In response, the lady lowered her window and said, "I'm sorry."

He walked around her car and shouted in reply, "fuck you," as he walked past her and toward me.

Had he assaulted her, I would have intervened to stop it.

An Irrational Response

In the holiday joy, almost Thanksgiving, it was dark of night when a car stopped in the access-way of a business center.

The driver behind that car laid on the horn, blaring repeatedly.

I walked between the two cars, and motioned to the driver of the second car to stop, which is what happened. I then spoke with the driver of the first car.