Tales of karma

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G_Gnome

Trad climber

Knob Central

Jul 9, 2007 - 04:18pm PT

Hmmmmmm, what does it mean that my bread almost always lands with the butter side up?

Bart Fay

Social climber

Redlands, CA

Jul 9, 2007 - 04:30pm PT

Dang.
Another cool thread gets LEBulated.

TwistedCrank

climber

a luxury Malibu rehabilitation treatment facility

Jul 9, 2007 - 04:32pm PT

Some breads are dense and have lots of whole grains. You know, like the kind that you can buy at your local earth muffin healthfood store.

Some butters are "fluffy" and are puffed with air. You know, like the kind that have the word "Spread" in the brand name.

The combination of the two will yield a higher likelihood of having the slice fall bread side down.

Oli

Trad climber

Fruita, Colorado

Topic Author's Reply - Jul 9, 2007 - 05:00pm PT

Chris and others bring up a good point that karma cuts both ways, for good or for bad. In my youth I was a little liberal at times with the truth, being young and exuberant and seeking acceptance, being insecure and not yet learning and trusting the power of truth. Every time, not once failing, I dug a pitfall I landed in head first.

Nohea

Trad climber

Aiea,Hi

Jul 9, 2007 - 05:10pm PT

A boat sank nearby where I was working. The owner decided to leave it so we began diving it cleaning off anything useful. We scored winches, a fresh water maker, sails, everything useful, even if bolted down. Then while going through the drawers I found a wallet complete with ID, Credit cards, and cash…$40 to be exact. I mailed the wallet to the address but kept the $40 and bought the beer that night.

Two weeks later I left my wallet at a bar, and picked it up the next day. As I checked it out, all cards were present but the $40 I remembered having in there was gone…and then it hit me…I deserved it.

WBraun

climber

Jul 9, 2007 - 05:15pm PT

So one day I find wallet in El Cap meadow with 8 $100 bills in it.

Wow it's all mine now, he he he yep mine! I'm gonna buy something, something that'll make me happy.

Then I see owner later (Drivers license photo).

I give him wallet with all money. He very happy now.

Me $800 poorer now ........

Oli

Trad climber

Fruita, Colorado

Topic Author's Reply - Jul 9, 2007 - 05:28pm PT

No, Werner, when you kept the loot you were 800 dollars poorer. When you returned it you were 800 dollars richer. But wealth is not always measured in currency.

phillygoat

climber

portland,

Jul 9, 2007 - 07:23pm PT

Would of been a lot more classy if the guy slipped you a c-note or two for your trouble!

spectreman

climber

Jul 9, 2007 - 07:49pm PT

I was packing up the haul bag one fine morning, I believe day 2 on Mescalito, when big dollops of fresh poop started plopping onto the portaledge, the haul bag, my shoes!!! We were being bombed and with our short tethers and no place to hide we were sitting ducks - plop, plop, plop! What a freakin mess, and difficult to clean up with the meager supplies at hand. I wonder what Karma had in store for the responsible A$$hole? Or should I ask what I had done to bring this onto myself?

Karl Baba

Trad climber

Yosemite, Ca

Jul 10, 2007 - 12:52am PT

The Karma of Assholes is always Shitty!

Many of you have read my Shield Trip report. If you haven't It's some of my better work! It's got some karma in there for sure. Pay attention to what happens to the hammers.

http://www.yosemiteclimber.com/ElCapShield.html

Peace

Karl

Degaine

climber

Jul 10, 2007 - 10:53am PT

Great stories, Karl. I enjoyed both your post at the beginning of this thread and your Shield story.

Thanks for the read!

bluering

Trad climber

Santa Clara, Ca.

Jul 10, 2007 - 11:49am PT

Cool trip report, Karl. Good writing and a perfect example of karma in action. Geez, that must a been a painfully long ascent.

dirtbag

climber

Jul 10, 2007 - 11:52am PT

On the other hand...

How many thousands of coincidences do not happen each day?

How many thousands of events are not worth mentioning? The noteworthy ones must be karma?!?!?

climber

Atlantis...before the flood

Jul 12, 2007 - 04:37pm PT

Pat--One of my best experiences of "instant karma":

Walking along Manhattan Beach early one morning, collecting the fragile skeletons of sand dollars (a favorite pastime of mine), I happened upon three remarkably perfect specimens all within the short expanse of a mile.

It felt like my birthday and Christmas all wrapped in one.

I'd only ever found chipped or broken sand dollars before, and not many of those; this was bounty beyond my dreams. I turned around to retrace my steps back to the car, and immediately fell into envisioning where and how I would display these little gems in my apartment. Perhaps a shadowbox on the wall. Or maybe in the enormous glass jar with the rest of my shell collection.

I was pleasantly adrift in these designer musings when chaotic movement caught my eye.

Looking up, I watched a little boy--3 or 4 years old at the most--zigzagging towards me. He was running from debris clump to debris clump, swiftly inspecting each, and then moving to the next. He was obviously looking for shells.

Not far behind him walked a man with an even younger boy perched on his shoulders: his father and little brother. I was in the process of assimilating this happy family scene when a soft voice within whispered, "Maybe I should give that little boy one of my sand dollars."

"Nooooo!" screeched another rather nasty little voice from the other side of my brain. "They're mine! All mine!"

I was a bit surprised at the vehemence with which this second voice attacked the idea of sharing the bounty.

"Yes, but I have three of them. He has none. I think it would make him very happy to have a perfect sand dollar."

"No, no, no! I've searched beaches for years! I've paid my sand dollar dues! Now you want to just give them all away???? Noooooo!"

By this time the little boy had passed me by in his search for gifts from the sea. The nasty little voice breathed a sigh of relief.

I was almost face to face with his father.

"Hi there--I found several sand dollars on the beach this morning. Do you think your son would like one of them?" I said quickly, smiling and offering him one of my treasures.

"Wow--yeah, he would love one!" the surprised man said, smiling and taking the little sand dollar from my hand. "Thank you so much."

I walked away to the sound of the father calling to his son to come see what the nice lady had given him. For some strange reason, tears welled up in my eyes, and my heart felt like it could explode...with an odd sort of exuberance I couldn't understand. It felt as though a great battle had been fought on some unseen plane, fought and won in a place far from the bleary eyes of mankind.

I continued down the beach with my diminished treasure, a ludicrous little grin on my face.

About 50 yards from where I'd given the man the sand dollar, on the very same sand I'd walked not 15 minutes before, I looked down.

There, nestled in the sea foam, lay a battalion of sand dollars. Perfect, unbroken sand dollars. Eighteen in all--with two of them still mauvy-pink and alive. I threw those far out into the breaking waves, collected the rest, and proceeded to finish my walk to the car, handing out sand dollars to everyone I passed.

Oli

Trad climber

Fruita, Colorado

Topic Author's Reply - Jul 12, 2007 - 06:20pm PT

That's a great story. Thanks.

G_Gnome

Trad climber

Knob Central

Jul 12, 2007 - 07:54pm PT

That's a nice story Laura, but you do know that sand dollars have little sticks for feet kind of like sea urchins. So if you are finding nice smooth ones they are already dead but not quite cleaned out by the waves and other critters yet.

Here's a photo of a live one.