I saw an old home in Oregon last week, sitting alone, in a green field by side the road. It looked like a giant had pushed it sideways, stretching it in a twisted tilt. Weeds grew like spider webs all over it. The roof bowed from time and weather. Only chips of white paint were visible. The barn behind it was in worse shape. I thought about the people who built the little house after walking for months. They picked this spot to build their dreams. There were no roads, only trails. Only the ghosts of their memory remain. I wanted to stop and take a photo, but we were driving by too fast on the highway. It made me think about times past. Their world was about family, food, shelter, and freedom. Our world is about money, success, fame, loud music, fast cars, big house, bling, I-pods, I-pads, flat screen TV's, reality shows, lottery tickets, computers, Facebook, Twitter, traffic, crime, extremists, taxes, self-interest, Republicans, Democrats, taxes, and constant noise.
