Posts Tagged ‘ Heartbreak ’

IS ATHEISM JUST ANOTHER RELIGION?

THE HUMAN RACE

 

WHO ARE WE?  WHY CAN’T HUMANITY GET ALONG?

 

     Whether you’re a Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Muslim, Islamist or devout Atheist, despite our differences, we are here! Together. Sharing the planet we are wrecking. Why can’t we get along?

     Why are we trying to devour one another for philosophic, spiritual, political or self-indulgent reasons? Do we have to blow each other up, shoot or stab somebody, or scorn one another to prove that we are superior; that we are playing on the right team?

     I know an Atheist who’s dead certain that there is no God. He is a cynical man who’s angry with the world in which he thrives. He’s pissed at corruption, racial prejudice, the power of religion, politics, the suppression of womens’ rights, and aggressively condemns overpopulation.

     Me too!

     He’s never been married; has no children. He is college educated. Bright. Knows Shakespeare like I know Marmaduke. And seems comfortable when isolated from a society he often rejects. Once he told me that “there has never been a day when I didn’t experience the pain of loneliness.” More than once he had confessed that his parents failed to give him love.

     Yet here is this intellectual with no God to lean on; not even a slim hope that there might be someone or something out there in the ionosphere waiting to embrace him.

     Of course, it could be one of the three Gorgon sisters with snakes for hair. They are supposed to be absolutely beautiful. But one look and you turn to stone.

     Years ago, I think I met one of them, a sultry-voiced Medusa. It was at Lane’s bar, a watering hole on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles. The sign out front read: Featuring Nightly: Bill Lane at the Cash Register. Lucky for me, it was so dark in that dive that I never did get a good look at that mythical babe. But at two in the morning, she sounded great.

     I don’t know what happened to Bill. Since he adored women, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had become a stone-cold tourist attraction standing rigidly on the sidewalk outside Lane’s pointing at his sign.

     Back to my old Atheist-actor friend: He played the game of life like a chameleon. He could change colors depending on the audition or social environment he found himself in. I can only appreciate the knowledge of playwriting and acting he passed on to me.

     He touched me with his art. I might envy his knowledge of theater, his curious intellect, and a mind that has absorbed such wisdom studying the thought provoking words in myriad books.

     Yet, the two of us are just as hypocritical as any guy or gal you’d care to name. Like many Earthlings, we’re still breathing. But Death is winking and beckoning.

     I’m convinced that my long-time Godless pal is no wiser about the existence of a Supreme Being than I. In other words, we have a God-given or evolutionary gift that’s locked in the depth of our individuality.

     Our brains, our uniqueness, provide us with the right to theorize about life, death and the hereafter. For a couple of old coots, truth is just around the corner.                    

                       — Boots LeBaron —

(The final edit of Boots’ book, THE HUMAN RACE, is

  now available on Kindle, in audio, and on Amazon

paperback. It contains philosophic, inspirational

 and humorous essays, light poetry and interviews

 with a fascinating cross section of humanity)

READ MY LIPS: THE MEANING OF A KISS

THE HUMAN RACE

LIPS THAT  KISS, POUT AND WHISPER SWEET-NOTHINGS

 

A kiss, even a prolonged mushy one,

is no guarantee for future bliss.

Yet it’s here, now and yummy. The

exaltation that ensues could result in

a mind-boggling journey. A tumultuous

one might, depending on the embracees,

could wind up as a lasting love affair

 or a fairy tale one-nighter. Every

person reacts differently when a lover

tickles the sensuality whispering sweet-

nothings into an ear. Who knows what

intentions lurk when two lips touch?

Even a quick peck could say either: “I like

you an awful lot” or “You fill my heart

with passion.” Who’s to know? If the

act is truthful, the heartfelt exchange

might ask, “Now what?” The answer could

take seconds, days or an eternity.

But the pleasure is worth the effort.

During the necking process, if lips

part and tongues play hide-and-seek, the

performance could rival great theater.

Such exoticism never killed nobody.

Whether the act is sincere or sheer theatrics,

kissing is a motivational treasure that

makes hearts, souls and intellects one.

It’s like a promissory note. It must be

acted upon. Soon! If locking lips isn’t

a heavenly experience, where’s the fun?

After all, it provides couples with

the intimacy of exploration. A kiss

can lead to the altar, solve loneliness,

result in untold wealth, last forever,

or wind up in the divorce court. A smooch

offers all participants that touchy-feely

sensation that tweaks emotional mechanisms as

humanity searches for the meaning of LOVE.

 

— Boots LeBaron —

 

(Boots’ book, THE HUMAN RACE, contains philosophic

and humorous interviews, essays and light poetry

about life, death, love, courage, the workplace,

God and Showbiz. It’s available on Kindle or

may be purchased in paperback via Amazon.com)

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO MY ‘DEADBEAT DAD’

THE HUMAN RACE

 

I think of my father, Bert LeBaron, often.  Although he was a Hall of Fame stuntman with 35 years serving the demands of Hollywood, he died in poverty in 1956.  Financially, he never supported my mother (who shed him twice in divorce court) or me.  Yet, he was always visiting the one-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles with my mother and grandmother.  I think the old scoundrel truly loved my mother.  Throughout my life, he was always there for me supporting me morally and physically.  He confided in me, revealing the dark side of his youth, running away when he was 13, winding up in Southeast Philadelphic being raised by a mobster I called Uncle Jake.  In Los Angeles, the kids in the neighborhood idolized him.  Bumbo Channon, my childhood pal, cherished a gift from my dad, a pair of stunt shoes he used in movies swordfighting with actors like Errol Flynn, Gene Kelly and even Laurence Olivier.  He took us on picnics, to the beach, to the circus where an elephant sneezed on another friend, Irv Drasnin.  My old man who died on a handball court at the Hollywood YMCA leaving me, $20,000 in gambling debts, which I didn’t have to pay.  He left a note in the locker leaving all his earthly belongings to me.  Since he was experiencing chest pains when he stepped into that handball court, and since Hollywood refused to help him, I am convinced he popped his heart on purpose.  Just like the man himself, it was a unique way to commit suicide.  He died at fifty six.  Old Bert LeBaron called himself a stuntmen-actor.  After watching him spew dialogue in many movies, I like to say, he was one of the worst actors ever to set foot in front of a camera.  I’m rambling here.  I just wanted to tell my dad, Happy Father’s Dad…  I love you dad.  And whenever I see you in action in some old TV movie I am thankful to showbiz that in my heart, you will never die.  Although you were an award-winning womanizer, thanks to the film capital of the world, you will be with me forever.   My only regret is my wife, JoAnne, kids and grandkids will never know you.  That’s it dad.  When the time is right, I’ll talk to you tonight.  Your loving son, Boots.  P.S.  I’m finishing a memoir about the two of us growing up in Hollywood.  You as a womanizing actor-stuntman, me as your kind’a lost child-actor pal who turned out alright.

 

 

 

The Beginning of Who’s End?

Remember, this is only the beginning

of the end of your life.  Make a note

of that.  You’ve got miles to go.  There

will be more ruts in the road.  Enjoy

the ride.  Heartbreak is not your final

curtain.  Like triumph and tragedy, it’s

fuel for building inner strength.  The

spirit of your being is anything but

mechanical.  You’re not going to run

out of knowledge, exasperation or fun.

Life is an unpredictable journey.  Despite

the consequences, you might discover that

there’s lots to live for.  Like all of us

floundering souls, the end is inevitable.

Just the thought of it proves that life

is a precious yet wretched keepsake.

Everybody squanders some of it.  By so

doing, we are recipients of the coveted

Pain Equals Wise trophy.  When you think

about it:  The process of getting wise

can be a delightful pain in the ass.

But it’s worth the trip.

Boots LeBaron

Boots New Book The Human Race is available now at Amazon/Kindle! Click the link and go check it out!

Boots has just published his new book The Human Race by Boots LeBaron.  Its available now on Amazon and in the Kindle Select Library.

Boots has just published his new book The Human Race by Boots LeBaron. Its available now on Amazon and in the Kindle Select Library.

http://www.amazon.com/HUMAN-RACE-BOOTS-LEBARON-ebook/dp/B00FECDGD2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1383000404&sr=1-1