mark ty-wharton

blog.aspergineering.com

I am in what is essentially a field.
I have paid £20 to sit here.
Hewn from the hillside is a dirt track.

My son Brandon, is racing up and down the hill on the Honda XR80 I attracted.
It was one of those intuition things.
I was looking for a bike for him on eBay and was drawn to a local sale for a larger bike.

I had a feeling a bit like when something is on the tip of your Tongue and can’t be recalled, except this was a new thought.
Something I hadn’t said before.
Something I was creating.

There has to be an old Honda locally, I had thought.
Better to spend £200 on an old reliable Honda than a modern Chinese thing that will break.
I have had enough of those.

When I looked at the photos, there was the Honda, just visible, tucked away under a tarpaulin.
It was local and exactly what I wanted for him.
I emailed the seller and they still had it.
He was planning to list it on eBay but hadn’t got round to it.
So we agreed on £60.

With a little work it is the perfect bike for Brandon.
I had the parts needed to get it going and it didn’t take long.
So here I am in a field.
Roasting in the sun.
Watching Brandon learn to ride a motorbike the way I did.
By doing it!

See you on the other side of the looking glass,

blog.aspergineering.com

Something I am learning slowly but surely is thanksgiving.
It sounds so horrible, cheesy and American.
And while I am at it, I should endeavour to have a nice day and wish the same on others with an insincere smile.

It’s all about marketing right?
It starts in the big stores like Macy’s, they really don’t mean it.
Just look at how society has programmed us.

And I speak for my self when I say, British people have a cynical, down right miserable, the world owes us a favour attitude.
And where is my favour today anyway?
Do you have it?
Can you wash my car for free?
No?
Ah well, fcuk the lot of you then, I’ll drive a car that resembles a dumpster (skip).

And don’t expect me to smile.
If I resemble a bulldog licking piss off a thistle, it’s because you simply aren’t doing enough for me.
The world owes me a favour right?
Where is it?
Where is mine?

Okay…
I have painted a picture.
I will paint another.

I am lying in bed, typing this on a tiny laptop and could equally be typing it into my iPhone in the palm of my hand.
Technology is amazing right?

I, the miserable English man, can bring you this message and within seconds, it can reach you, anywhere in the world.
I can expand your mind and touch your heart with the flick of a few membrane switches.
And why, because of the people who pioneered and programmed these devices.
So thank you, people who pioneered and programmed these devices.
It annoys me to say it, I appreciate you.

Next…
I am shifting my miserable creaking carcass from the bed to the hallway and throwing on clothes.
Calvin Klein jeans that cost pennies.
A Diesel top.
Thank you eBay.
That bastard international conglomorate, who rip us off, yet enable us to have amazing bargains at our fingertips.

Now I am downstairs and I have forgotten to switch off the burglar alarm.
I have woken up my child.
It was all going so well and now, I am a stupid idiot.
It is so interesting to notice, how left to it’s own devices, my mind would destroy my day.

I am standing in my kitchen, typing this on the tiny laptop.
The battery will last four hours.
In this time, I can go anywhere in my house and have information at my fingertips.
How long till I can have this running in a chip in my brain.
I want it and I want it now (stamps foot) – time is running out for me…
Or is it?

Now I am making juice using a centrifugal juicer.
Everything goes in whole.
Fruit from around the globe, delivered fresh to my kitchen.
I don’t even need to go shopping anymore, it arrived in a truck.
In response to a message online.
Delivered fresh to my door, from Ecquador.

Even the juicer arrived in the mail.
Technology made affordable by manufacturing it in China.
Thank you China.
I get to be thin, because some miserable bloke was a bit podgy.
He invented a juicing diet, now he is happy.
I simply followed it vaguely and lost fifty pounds.
Now I am healthy, even my blood pressure is perfect.
Thank you Jason Vale.

And I notice.
I break my blog up like a poem.
Thank you for my ability to write – my talent.
And thank you to all the writers I have read along the way.
Thank you for allowing me to express myself.
And thank you for the oppurtunity to be the poet laureat.
Anyone could do it right?
So thank you for oppurtunity.

So back to America.
And its great teachers.
One of my guides is a man called Mr Twenty Twenty.
Thank you Mr Twenty Twenty.

I finally see that giving thanks, is not a cheesy American past time.
It is not a fat white man with a donut and an insincere smile.
It is the way of the native and it has meaning.
It is the custom of a culture indigenous to the land of those that call themselves free.

And I can see exactly how it works and why.
I am doing it right now.
Taking charge of my day.

I can see I could be a miserable English man, moaning about circumstance.
Or I could be a native warrior, a fellow guide, wiseman and teacher.
Making sure the Ty-Whartons that follow, transcend the British way.

So just for today.

Thank you for the oppurtunity to be alive.
Thank you for the opportunity work things out for myself.
Thank you for the adventure playground of life and it’s infinite possibilities.

See you on the other side of the looking glass,

blog.aspergineering.com

I am a virtual participant on Todd Silva’s http://giveawayadollaraday.com program.
However with the resulting disruption of moving house, I haven’t been doing it as often as I need to.
With the additional expense, I have also been a more reluctant participant.

This afternoon I went to buy some rawl plugs to put up a blind.
I went to a local shop which I really enjoy, because it has all these overpowering smells.
The smell of garden chemicals, polish and creosote, pans, oil, stove blacking and the like.
A real old fashioned hardware store.

The guy has to be lucky to be there.
The DIY giants have almost definitely killed his trade.
But he is still there, closing for an hour for lunch and carrying on a tradition of putting screws in brown paper bags.

To meet my request, he handed me a lump of yellow plastic and asked for 50p
Then I asked for two stainless 10mm blots, something I need for the motorbike I am building.
He disappeared and rooted around out back for ages.
While I waited, I hid a pound on top of a jar of beeswax.

When he came back he handed me the bolts.
“That’s four pounds and fifty pence” he ventured.
I looked at him quizzically ‘are you fcuking crazy’ I thought. ‘I could buy these for 10p on eBay.’
I turned up my nose, flicked the bolts back at him and even though I was holding a sizable mass of change declared I did not have enough money.
He looked at me disgusted and literally THREW them in a drawer.
I walked out.

As I walked away I started to think.
‘How does this fit with my ethos of supporting that shop?’
It simply didn’t.
‘I just LEFT a pound in his store, so what if I were to consider the extra cost of the bolts as an unspoken gift to him?’
I turned on my heels and went back and told him I had just found change in another pocket.
To his surprise, I bought the bolts.

I had a slightly strange feeling as I left the store.
He KNOWS he is overcharging for the bolts and KNOWS I wasn’t too happy about it.
He has no idea why I went back and bought them though.

I have counted him into the program as a few lost Give Away A Dollar A Days.
I am now considering shopping with other more expensive vendors and supporting the stores that light me up by integrating them into my tithing process?
But, do you think I should tell him?

See you on the other side of the looking glass,