A State of Consciousness

 

A State of Consciousness 

"I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it". (2001: A Space Odyssey, 1968)

This paper will argue that Mille, my toy Australian Shepherd, and other dogs have consciousness. Greatest, I shall address a central matter: it is challenging to determine consciousness and measure it in individuals, other animals. In this way, the only way we can understand the consciousness of other animals is through observation of behavioral traits.

            Animals exhibit many similar behaviors and can likewise do things that we, individuals, cannot do. In this way, Animals are intricate beings, and it seems we have not thoroughly examined the aspects of intelligence and knowledge and possibly several other features animals may possess. The complexity of other animals, discovered or not, shows it is very likely was not the only species to have consciousness; that is to say, other animals also have a theory of mind. 

            At times, Mille's level of consciousness seems like that of a three-year-old individual, but she still knows herself from others; she displays emotions, such as fear, anger, and sadness. She is aware of her surroundings and limits, such as not walking away too far out of sight. When her name is called aloud, she responds. She recognizes tones of voice, different attitudes, and anxieties. 

            Now, it is essential to examine the theory of Physicalism; the Physicalism view declares that an entire individual contains a physical entity with various physical properties. A dualism view declares that individuals have a dual entity containing a physical entity, a body, and a non-physical entity, the mind. The mind's perspective as a non-physical entity is frequently the cause of conflict among these two opposing beliefs. 

            Now, let us examine how consciousness develops in individuals over time. It is progressive development of the brain and inner nervous system gradually over some time. It is known that infants are born without consciousness, but this advances casually from birth over many years, well into early adolescence. A young child has yet to discover that other individuals have views and thoughts different from their own. In this way, they are not capable of telling a lie. However, lying starts to develop around the age of three because they realize that their thoughts and experiences are different from others around them.

            We understand that several animals are capable of deception and cheating. Such observations determine that animals recognize themselves as separate from others. Moreover, like humans, other cognitive capabilities progress over time. Various distinct cognitive techniques grow during infancy, such as language, spatial abilities, memory, and problem-solving. These groups develop collectively to form the conscious individual.

            Another essential perspective of consciousness is that animals do not need to have a language to be conscious. Language enhances consciousness, particularly the shared collective consciousness of a society, but it is not needed in humans. So, though animals lack language as we comprehend and define it, this does not suggest they lack consciousness.

            So, if one was contemplating animals that display the qualities we consider qualified for human consciousness, we find some with other qualities that are unique to themselves. Just as a few characteristics unique to human consciousness have not been found in other species.

            In the book The Broadview Introduction to Philosophy, Andrew Bailey presents Thomas Nagel's article "What is it like to be a bat?" which explains how consciousness can only be observed, but never a total understanding of consciousness from any other being apart from ourselves.

facts about what it is like for the experiencing organism are accessible only from one point of view then it is a mystery how the true character of experiences could be revealed in the physical operation of that organism are accessible only from one point of view then it is a mystery how the true character of experiences could be revealed in the physical operation of that organism. (qtd. in Bailey 378)  

So, a physical explanation of the world from dissimilar animals with a perceptual system is a basic means of explaining the world experienced by different creatures. 

In this way, if a bat or dog had as many cognitive abilities as human beings, such as communication with language and complex thoughts, we could provide a bat or dog a similar science that we practice, and the animal would have the ability to inform us of all the information found as well as a physical objective description of the world.

            The animal could not provide us a sensation of what it is like to be a dog, barking and running around, rolling on dead animals, chewing house shoes, or flying around as a bat, echolocating its surroundings. Moreover, even a physical language cannot grasp that conscious experience. It would be reductive as it lessens any sensation to an objective collection of facts that could be understood from all perspectives. 

            We cannot get away from our singular subjective primary viewpoint to obtain another animal's more trustworthy objective understanding. The only way we can understand the consciousness of other animals is through observation, converting terms accessible to animals that could not imagine what it was like to be human. 

            It seems, seeking more objective knowledge of an equivalent phenomenon, that is, consciousness, can never be achieved. Even if leaving a primary subjective viewpoint toward another that is more objective, it still cannot fully be understood what it is like for one thing to exist as another. 

A state of consciousness exists in Mille, Fletcher, and a bat. However, it can only be observed objectively, and we will never produce a subjective viewpoint of such animals. Studies can explain a state of consciousness of several animals but never the entire sensation of existing as that animal. 

Consciousness exists in Mille, unique and entirely of its definition; although it can be compared toward other animals’ consciousness, it can never be fully understood. However, Mille and Fletcher exist with a state of consciousness that humans can attempt to understand through observation of behavioral traits but will still be unique to the animal; in this way, we can never fully understand such a state, but it does exist. 

Works Cited

Andrew Bailey. The Broadview Introduction to Philosophy. Available from: VitalSource 

  Bookshelf, Broadview Press, 2019.

Kubrick, Stanley, and Arthur C. Clarke. 2001: A Space Odyssey. United States: Metro-

   

Goldwyn-Mayer Corp, 1968.

 

The Problem of Evil.

    I will first describe the horrendous suffering of Job, his plead for answers, and the lecture god responds with about divine power. 

    Job, a man with great obedience to God. He feared God and detested Evil; in this way, no one could compare to Job. God granted divine protection over the life of Job and provided a life of abundance. Satan understood that all the beautiful attributes in Job's life came directly from God. Job had no reason to turn away from God because the luxurious life he was enjoying came from a covenant with God. Satan wanted to prove that breaking that covenant would completely abandon Job's obedience to God. God granted Satan the authority of Job's entire existence; Satan agreed and annihilated everything Job held dear, including his body. Job denounces not only God but everything that was, is, and is to come.

    I will now explain how the story of Job presents the Problem of Evil, existing in the form of a narration, which outdates the Book of Genesis. 

    I want to identify Evil by two definitions. 1) Moral Evil- evil committed, on purpose, by humans. 2) Natural Evil- Evil we're not responsible for. Let us start with the words of Job, “I cry out to you, God, but you do not answer; I stand up, but you merely look at me.” (Job. 30. 20) From these words, we see the repercussions of evil happening despite an existence dedicated to the obedience of God. Job's only purpose is to please God, to show his loyalty through any means, including ritualistic ceremonies of burnt offerings. Job asks, "Does he not see my ways and count my every step?" (Job. 31. 4) And yet Jobs' entire life is laid to waste; everything he has ever done has been in vain. Evil displaced all good with an audience of God. 

    I will now discuss the response of God to Job. 

    From a storm, God calls out, "Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge?" (New International Version, Job. 38. 2.) With that statement from God, every word spoken from Job during his affliction was an obstruction to God's plan. And the phrase Job had said, in total agony, were without knowledge. God speaks of several wonders and their complexities from all over the earth. All of which were created and maintained by God. The sufferings Job endured were entirely forgotten by Job in the presence of God. Job admits to God that he could never understand the vastness, the creation, or operation of all life on earth. Job repents in shame in the presence of God and regrets all the curses he made. God restores everything that he lost. 

    I will now discuss how God did not answer the Problem of Evil. 

    First, I would like to point out that the age of the book of Job is unknown. But evidence exists showing it was written sometime in the 2nd millennium BCE. God was able to describe great wonders that nothing else could achieve but God. “Do you have an arm like God’s, and can your voice thunder like his?” (New International Version, Job. 40. 9.) If Job were to have an arm like God, he would be able to “crush the wicked where they stand.” (New International Version, Job. 40. 12.) But Job is not God, so Job cannot crush the wicked. The wicked still exist, Evil still exists. The Problem of Evil still exists. 

 

    Before I explain the arguments of J. L. Mackie, it would be essential to define an Omni-God, that is 

1) Omniscient- all-knowing. 

2) Omnipotent- all-powerful. 

3) Omnibenevolent- infinite goodness.

4) Omnitemporal- existing in all places.

5) Omnipresent- existing at all times.  

    Mackie's argument uses logic to expose “the Paradox of Omnipotence” using the premises as follows:

a) God exists and is wholly good. (Omnipotent and Omniscient)

b) Evil exists.

c) An Omnipotent, Omniscient being is bound by nothing.

d) A wholly good being permanently eliminates or prevents Evil as far as it can.

(If a and c) then e) God can eliminate or prevent all Evil.

(If a and d) then f) God will eliminate or prevent all the Evil he can.

(If e and f) then g) God eliminates or prevents all Evil.

(If g then h) Evil does not exist.

(If b and h) then i) Evil exists, and Evil does not exist. 

    So, viewing each premise leads to a logical impossibility (Paradox). One of the premises is wrong. Evil still exists. 

    At last, I will briefly discuss the argument from Marilyn Adams. I will use her quote to begin. "The worst evils demand to be defeated by the best goods. Horrendous evils can be overcome only by the goodness of God." (McCord 309) From this statement, the goodness of God can overcome Evil, not prevent it or eliminate it. So, this cannot be a counterargument to Mackie but instead ignores the paradox and presents a view that it would be "hopeless" (McCord 306) to seek out the answers to why Evil exists. Instead, she argues that all the Evil plaguing our existence will be engulfed (be overcome) by an intimate relationship with God. Adams offers a Christian response to the Problem of Evil, but not a solution. If anything, it leads to several more questions. For example, out of the 45,000 denominations of Christianity, which one provides the goodness of God that can overcome Evil? 

    I will conclude my discussion with this. 

    God does not exist- Evil exists. God does exist- Evil exists. 

 

 

Work Cited.

Holy Bible. New International Version, Zondervan Publishing House, 1984.

From Marilyn McCord Adams and Stewart Sutherland, “Horrendous Evils and the Goodness of God,” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Supplementary Volumes 63 (1989): 297–310.

What Do You See?

Edgar Degas, France 1834-1917, "In a Cafe" (alt. title "L'Absinthe" - absinthe is a type of liquor) 1852

 

                                Edward Hopper, America 1882-1967, "Nighthawks" 1942

What Do You See?

The paintings, "In a Cafe" also called "L'Absinthe," painted in 1852, by Edgar Degas, and

"Nighthawks," painted in 1942, by Edward Hopper has many similarities while still being unique. At a

professional level or an amateur level, art remains one of the major forms of human expression, an artist

is trying to communicate.

From commercials with cartoon characters smoking cigarettes to magazine ads with

doctors recommending a certain brand of cigarette, tobacco has been enjoyed and admired by society 

for decades until the advancement of medical science that now advises against the consumption of 

tobacco products. In a café, a well-dressed man can be seen with a wooden pipe in his mouth and in the 

painting Nighthawks, a billboard advertisement for Phillies, a type of cigar that still exists in a store 

near you. The wooden tobacco pipe, In a café depicts, was a common device used to consume tobacco 

in 1852. Considering all the ways one can now consume tobacco, the tobacco pipe has become a less

common method to use tobacco. This becomes clear in Nighthawks; the wooden pipe is now replaced 

by a more modern and convenient method to use tobacco, the Cigar. The desire to consume 

tobacco now consumes both eras. One method is just more modern than the other.

             Dressing well has always been a luxury. From kings wearing gold to Gucci suits, money can 

buy you the finest. The people in both paintings are dressed well, so to speak, from a lovely hat the lady

is wearing in L-absinthe to the blue suit with a grey fedora, the man is wearing in Nighthawks. The only

one not dressed luxuriously is the waiter at the diner in Nighthawks, he does not have the luxury to do 

so. As he must tend to the patrons.

            The couple in L-absinthe, dress very nicely, as does the woman at the diner in Nighthawks, with

her bright red dress. Both couples could very well be on a big night out. Someone could question while

viewing both paintings, “Is it their first stop or last stop?” That is the beauty of such a capture, one that

can be pulled directly from real-time. Both artists do this well in these paintings.

            Both paintings are snapshots taken of a social environment. Nighthawks takes place at a diner,

while L'Absinthe takes place in a café. Coffee can be seen in Nighthawks while Absinthe is being

served in the painting In a café. The alcoholic beverage Absinthe was illegal in the United States

because of the toxic properties it contained. Until regulations on the measurement of toxic herbs used to

create the beverage were put into place in 2007. Diners in the U.S.A around 1942, would not be serving

up this drink. But in France in the year 1852, the toxic drink could be enjoyed regularly. The darkness 

that surrounds the diner is illuminated by the bright, welcoming lights on the ceiling of the diner. The 

light In a café comes from somewhere unseen, but it comes from in front o the couple in the painting 

because their shadows can be seen cast behind them. The darkness from Nighthawks comes from the 

structures that exist beyond the diner. They are vacant, not occupied late at night. Sepia tones bring 

darkness to the painting L-Absinthe. These reddish-brown tones can be seen in the lady’s dress as well 

as the booth, the couple is seated at.

            The colors are bright and vivid in Nighthawks. From the countertops to empty shelves across the

street of the diner, vivid colors are seen on the buildings and sidewalks, illuminated by the diner light.

The colors in L-absinthe are dark, muted, and hazy, even with all the light colors that are seen 

throughout the painting cannot overcome the haziness of the matte colors that make the painting look 

heavy.

            In a café adds more weight to the heaviness of the overall painting when observing the focal

point. The look of despair on the woman’s face could tell a story all on its own. It is haunting, much 

like the emptiness felt when being alone in a crowded room like the late-night atmosphere of 

the diner in Nighthawks. The diner has a bigger group of people than the café, yet both paintings 

display an equal amount of loneliness. The blank silent stares from the customers in the diner shadow 

the sad haunting stare of the lady in the café, both appear to be waiting for something. The lady looks 

to be waiting for the attention of the man as he fixes his gaze elsewhere. Each patron in the diner waits 

in silence. Waiting for anything to break that silence.

            Human expression is a vital tool we use to connect to one another, in person, photographs,

through motion pictures and art. A smile has no language barrier, nor does a frown. The human

expression is our greatest form of communication with each other. Human existence has been

expressed through art for an exceptionally long time. Art that can be found on cave walls, inside the

tombs of kings and from all corners of the earth, in this way, various parallels can be seen in art 

depicting human expression, while remaining distinctive. The artist can connect with an observer 

and communicate directly through the art itself. What do you see? 

 

Have you ever been in danger?

 Dear Reader, 

            Growing up outside of Austin had a few benefits, a good one was having downtown Austin only 25 minutes away.  I was able to experience the downtown night life scene, I even had someone’s ID that allowed me to buy liquor and get into clubs but that is another story for another day.

            From ROT rallies at fifteen to ridiculously expensive lofts I had no business in right off Guadalupe Street at seventeen. I truly did my share of living a fast life, too fast at times and as I get older it becomes harder to remember it all, except for the times I was in actual danger.

Having a close call can really burn a situation into a memory, a memory that often turns into a nightmare waking me up only to stare towards the ceiling with relief of it being over because if this situation went any different, I might not be here to tell it today.

            The high school I transferred to was built in 1998. When I got there in 2001 it was in great shape, especially compared to the 30-year-old high school I transferred from in my hometown. So, my school was built because of the rapid expansion in the region and it hasn't stopped growing. In 2000 the population was 26,049 and today it has grown to 80,844.

The halls of my school reflected the cultural diversity of the growing city that surrounded it. Everything was new, bright, and interesting. My first day was on a Monday, made friends and was out on the town by Friday night. By the time I knew it 4 years had passed, it was the weekend, and it was time to get out and have some fun with friends back in their hometown of San Antonio.

A group of us would get together and head to San Antonio to meet up with friends of friends and their friends of friends. It had become routine, but I could not tell you how to get there to save my life because I never drove.

A quick road trip consisted of catching up and having a great time. We ended up at an apartment complex and everyone was on their patios doing the same thing we had planned. Partying.

The environment was absolutely on point, it felt like a movie and we could no longer stay inside. The get-togethers could be heard all around the complex, calling our names. It was about an hour spent walking around enjoying the various activities that the individual gatherings had to offer until a friend needed a few things and decided she wanted to go back and get them, so a small group of us chose to go with her.

Four of us set off back to the apartment, enjoying each other’s company and completely unaware someone was watching us. As we turn a corner towards the apartment, an older man from a parked beat-up work van calls out to a friend who was just catching up. My friend stops and turns towards this stranger and pauses. The stranger asks calmly “do you know where marks party is at?” the stranger looks over at us and smiles. “No, I don’t.” he replies. The stranger, still looking at us replies with a hushed “well, why don’t we go find it together?”

My nightmare always starts where the encounter starts. It all happened so fast; I often find myself trying to slow it down so I can view it in more detail. The stranger snaps his gaze back to my friend, slams his fist on the side of the vehicle and screams, “GET IN THE FUCKING VAN!” I have never moved so fast in my life; I could have run on water. The vehicle starts up, reverses, and peels out towards the exit of the complex. It becomes a blur, but we all make it to the apartment together and safe.

 The situation was surreal and as we discussed what had happened, at the time we did not fully understand the severity of it all. I usually always try to wake myself up before the nightmare can begin but last night I could not. I turned the corner just in time to see the stranger in a panic, wide eyed and sweating, slamming shut the sliding side door of his beat-up van. He turns towards me, smiles and waves.

                                    Sincerely Yours,

                                                                                Timothy                                                                                                                                            

The Day I Felt Nothing Inside.

 

Have you ever experienced racism?

 

I have always tried to look on the bright side of things, even when I was little, I would always cheer for the hero and absolutely detest the villain. Even when the villain had the odds in their favor, I knew eventually their time would run out. Growing up my grandmother would always find ways to show my sisters and I stories from the bible. One of the first books I read growing up was the book of Job, I remember being upset how god would just let the devil destroy the life of one of his servants. My young mind tried to grasp the idea as I read the book, being frustrated as Job was brought to rock bottom. Even the ending when God restored all Job had lost, he did not do it because Job deserved it, God gave it to Job as a gift. Since reading the book the first time I have since read it at least 50 times if not more, each time with better understanding. Trust. The book is about trusting in a God that knows exactly what we have been through, what we are going through and what we will go through.

 

Dear Reader.

 

Working in the oilfield having a holiday off is rare. You basically try to make up lost time with family and events on scheduled days off. One day while starting my work week (which consisted of seven days on call followed by two days off.) Our crew was told a yard in Louisiana was terribly busy and could not keep up with the customers requesting service for their oilwells. We were to travel to Louisiana to assist with servicing several oilwells in the area. We gathered our equipment, packed our bags and began our six-hour journey on a chilly Christmas eve. Cigarettes and sunflower seeds were my solution to the boredom that comes with such a long distance through rural country and the stress of driving an overweight vehicle through a remarkably busy downtown Houston, Tx for the first time.

As we approach the Texas Louisiana state line, the supervisor over our CB radio informs the convoy, “we will need to pull over at a truck stop before crossing the state line.” The convoy pulls over and gathers around to find out some of the vehicles in our group will need an updated IFTA-registration. Essentially, when your vehicle is IFTA-registered, you record the distance traveled in each state or province and pay the appropriate fuel taxes. A mechanic from the yard we were to assist was headed our way with the updated registration. Four hours until we are on the road again. We finally reach our destination. The manager of the yard greeted us and gave us details of the service needed for the customers oilwell and informed us the customer will not be needing service until the next day. Christmas day.

                The crew and I were able to rest before the call to head to location which came in around 3 a.m. as we headed towards the destination my tire blows out. I cannot begin to describe the frustration that had been building since having to miss time with my family on this holiday. The tire on my vehicle was a “super single” not a common tire, so the dispatch had to not only find the special tire but also had to find a towing company willing to come help on Christmas day. 4 hours later a towing service finally arrives, and he does not look happy. He throws his seat belt off, lights a cigar and spits on the ground as he slams his door. I offer a hello which he completely ignores, I try to make small talk with him, and he just looks at me as if I am not there. After putting the tire on and literally throwing tools back into the fleet vehicle he turns towards me, spits on the ground and hands me a receipt. “Here, boy.” The disgust in his tone was something I had never felt before.

                The location of the oilwell was off a county road surround by large trees, trees that appeared to be as tall as buildings and so thick you could not see beyond them. Even with the extremely high lumen lights installed on the oil rig it still could not be seen from the county road. The oil rig was in the middle of running casing pipe down freshly drilled out earth. The third-party company tasked for that process had just finished up and were leaving location. Their crew could be seen from our approach, they looked exhausted and were covered in a mixture of drilling fluids, dirt and sweat. A hard day’s work completed. Our convoy parked the equipment and gathered for a safety meeting. As I am walking towards the meeting area, I cross paths with a worker from the oilrig. He looks me up and down, spits and says out loud, “I thought we got rid of all of them? They’re like roaches the further south you go! Make sure y’alls cars are locked!” he laughed as the others from his crew caught up from behind him. It stopped me in my tracks. For the first time in my life, I felt empty, absolutely nothing. Not mad or sad just blank. Those words cut me in half. From everything I went through to get to that location to every day I had lived had led me to that moment, to be belittled on Christmas day.             Trust.

Job 11:17 Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning.

 

Sincerely Yours

Timothy.

Stocks & Options.

Do you understand the Stock Market?

Stocks and Options.

    Dear Reader

So, we can begin with what they have in common. They're both tradable securities. options are tradable and stocks are traded, they both have bid and ask prices. Options get bid on the same with stocks and they have asking prices so they're constantly being traded and they're both listed on the exchanges, the same types of exchanges. Basically, those are the three main similarities.

 Now, as far as differences, the main difference with options is they have expiration dates. So, think of an option as a gallon of milk. The moment you place it in your fridge it will begin to expire (decay) becoming literally worthless as the expiration date approaches. Options expire over time whereas a stock can be held for twenty, thirty, forty, ninety years; as long as the company is around but with options there are expiration dates, also with options there is no set number of options, you can create options out of air almost and that is one of the reasons why stocks get a bad rap or options get a bad rap is that there is no set number of options whereas with a stock you might have 20 billion shares you trade it or give your shares from one person to the other person, you're buying it or selling it whereas with options you could just sell an option contract to somebody without really owning that option it's kind of weird how that works but that's another difference. Finally, with stocks you own a piece of the company and you have voting rights with options you don't really own a piece of the company; you're not really contributing to the company and you have no voting rights.

So, those are three main differences that you must be aware of and some of the similarities but, both stocks and options are very tradable, options do expire but they're used as leverage in order to make more but they're also riskier because you have a time horizon expiration because it works like a coupon that has an expiration date. 

                                           Sincerely Yours, 

                                                      Timothy H.

A Collide in a Stride.

 Chapter one.

 

    KNOCK KNOCK!!! The bedroom door swings open, hitting the wall with a THUD, interrupting a deep dreamless sleep. "Oh, son I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Mr. Williams teased. Alex rubs his eyes and turns towards his father, who is slowly walking to his bed side. "Well son, looks like its about that time, you know where you get ready for school." Still in a daze, Alex looks up at his dad towering over him. "Have you ever wanted to sleep forever?" he groaned. "No, son not at all." He places one huge hand on his shoulder and continues. "Because if I were to sleep forever. I would miss you and your mother so much, its unbearable to even think of..." He trails off unloading seven kinds of mushy love, memories, and all the stories Alex can tell you by heart. "Well dad, on that note, I'll be getting up now!" His dad backed away swiftly. "OHHH WELL I WILL NOT APOLGIZE FOR LOVING MY SON!" He stuck his chest out pretending to be some battle scared barbarian. "I HAVE DONE THINGS FOR YOU THAT YOU WOULDNT EVEN DREAM OF DOING!" He throws his arms around Alex and tackles him back onto the twin-size bed with a loud BOOM. Alex tried to laugh... but couldn't breathe. He's reminded of an old memory, five years old and his father is standing tall, flexing his muscles after throwing him on the couch, both of them laughing out of control. 

    "What are you guys doing up there?!" A firm high pitched yell from some where down stairs, Mrs. Williams can be heard amid all the chaos. "Michael, you better quit playing around, you will miss your meeting and Alex is going to be late for school!" she barks.  They look at each other. Michael stands slowly to once again, tower over him and in a monster tone he whispers. "This is not over son!" Using his fingers Alex pretends to put on war paint. "I'll be waiting!" He whispers back. As his father leaves to get ready he takes huge loud steps out of his room. "HEY! Stop all that racket and get ready!" Mrs. Williams has had enough. 

    Alex gets up from his bed and opens the blinds letting the morning light in, the morning sun lights up the room enough to see what he would be choosing to wear today. The sun can be seen through the top of the trees, not a cloud in the sky. "Looks like a hoodie for the morning, that'll be off and rolled up in my bag by noon." he says aloud. The suburbs of Boulder county offer a mix of hot and cold weather through out the days of May. Highs of seventy degrees Fahrenheit when the sun is out, and low forties with cloud cover, sometimes the wind would not blow whatsoever leaving only hot sun rays to heat the day up, today would be one of those days. Shirt and jeans would be just fine, its not like any body notices anyway. He picks out a plain greenish light blue shirt, with a favorite pair of Levi's. A quick visit to the bathroom and the mirror says comb your hair. 

    After a quick brush through its on to cologne. "Now, Alex you have two choices." He proclaims in a game-show host voice. "The blue one, that kind of smells like a woman's perfume." He points to the blue one. "Or the brown one that smells like a Grandpa." Picking up a brown bottle, takes off the cap, points the nozzle towards himself and lets the mist fall on to his shirt and soak in. "Great choice Mr. Alex!" He declares.  "Who you talking to son?" His dad asks from down the hall. Alex locks eyes with his reflection in the mirror. "Myself, pop." he stretches. "Well Alex, they say geniuses and crazy people talk to themselves... so which one are you?" Alex crosses his eyes  his reflection in the mirror the same and responds. "A genius of course." Mr. Williams pokes his head into the bathroom, smiles and quietly signals to an invisible watch on his wrist. "Yes, sir." Alex sighed. 

    They  both walked down stairs. His dad always made it a point that his son knew how lucky he was to live in a home with two floors. Mr. Williams grew up poor, number four of five siblings. Alex could tell anyone his fathers story line for line as he had heard it all of his young life. He knew very well how fortunate they all were. One summer his father took them to where he had grown up, a small Texas town. Alex got to see the home where his father had lived. Seven people living in a three bedroom home, it must've been tough. "Life is what you make it, son." His father always said that, it was his quote. Mr. Williams worked very hard to make damn sure his family would want for nothing, and he loved to remind anyone who would care to listen. His dads life story was more of a cautionary tale, its like he was terrified his only son would go down the wrong path in life and end up homeless or worse.  Alex understood how much his father cared about him and his future, that's why he kept certain things from his dad, if he ever found out about the night life with friends on weekends his father would be having an in-depth talk with him and perhaps ground him for life. 

    The first floor of their home was filled with bohemian décor. Mr. Williams fell in love with a free spirited young woman from Colorado who was studying at The University of Texas at Austin, eleven years his junior, another story Alex could recite word for word by heart. She was celebrating her twenty first birthday, the entire bar had her attention. All the roads he had taken in his life had lead him to this moment, this beautiful young girl standing on top of the bar singing along to Piano Man, surrounded by friends and strangers, with him being the lesser. He would start the story with, "I had twenty dollars to my name, I had to ask your uncle jack for one dollar, to make it twenty one, which I still owe him to this day." He would pause and turn to his wife and continue. "She could've had anyone in that bar that night, but she chose to have a drink with this poor man who offered her twenty one dollars for drinks, a dollar for every year she had lived on this earth."  On que she would reply, "I just wanted the money!" And everyone would laugh. 

    "I made you guys some breakfast sandwiches to-go, maybe tomorrow we can all sit down and have a nice family breakfast." Mrs. Williams, lived for family time. Board games, dinner, movies or just sharing each others day. It didn't matter to her, as long as they were all together, safe in one place.  "Well thanks little lady, and what might be your name?" Mr. Williams said in his best John Wayne draw. "Oh, Michael you should've been an actor." He looked at Mrs. Williams like he did when they first met. "But Emma, if I was an actor, I would be practicing my roles in all the movies my agent would sign me up for and wouldn't have any time for you. I would just miss you to death!" He soothed. They shared a laugh, and hugged each other. 

    Alex had to step around them to grab his breakfast sandwich. Emma broke her gaze from Michael reached in her purse and handed Alex a envelope. "Son, here is a check. Please give it to Mrs. Crabtree, for your lunches this week." She hands him the check, he looks it over and admires her handwriting, handwriting that he could pick out anywhere. "Thanks, but next time can you make it out to me, so I can just cash it behind your back?" None of his parents laughed. Just stared. "Well you guys have a great day, I got to go, almost sure ill be swamped with paperwork." she sighed. "Well Emma, darling just remember without you they wouldn't know what to do. You just keep doing what you are doing, and remember Hawaii is just around the corner, my love." Mr. Williams, always looked at the Brightside of things. "Yes, sir, and I just can not wait!" she gushed with bright eyes. They embraced, followed by a quick kiss. 

    "Alright son lets get out of here!" His father insisted. "Bye, mom." Alex said giving her a hug. "Be sure to eat your sandwich Alex, and have a great Friday." She let him go, and gazed at him with adoring eyes. "That shirt really brings out your eyes, son." He crossed his eyes. "how about now?" she rolled hers. "Bye, son." She laughed and pointed at her husband. "He gets that from you Michael." Mr. Williams threw a thumbs up her way. The father and son duo walk out of the kitchen into the mudroom and into the garage, armed with hot breakfast sandwiches. Ready for the day.

Sincerely Yours,

                                                                 Timothy.