Ten years ago I awoke on a Tuesday morning in my dorm room at Eastern. It was to be a typical day filled with a class I didn't like and one that I really did. Nothing special at all.
Over my bed was a wall sized cork board. Like you do in college I had covered that obtusely offensive brown with a swatch of cloth to make it more "manly" in my room. Posters of movies dominated the rest of the wall space; framed and hung with care to look like I really did care about the small room that I would call home for the next year of scholasticism. Affixed to that deep navy and electric blue fabric I had haphazardly pinned a number of pics I had in a collage of past events and life in general. When I woke up, just like I did every other day, I gave a quick glance to some of the pics. But then something new happened.
Once my sleep weary eyes were again back to 20/20 I focused on one picture. Nothing special drew me to this pic. It didn't have any bright colors or eye catching beauty to it. It was pretty plane. Just a picture of myself facing the camera while a metropolitan sea of urban landscape in the distance composed my backdrop. The memory that this singular picture brought about filled my brain of such a good trip and time had in my past years before I found myself at this particular point in time. It was just a good time to have my picture taken.
I stared at that photo for an uncharacteristically long time. When I should have been already into my daily routine of prepping for the day I was strangely transfixed on this captured moment in time. The simplistic nature of the photo kept bringing forth new things to look at and new memory flashes. It just made me stop and smile that pic. The one of me facing my fear of heights by standing on the roof of the tallest building I had ever been on. The very roof of the north tower of the World Trade Center in NYC. It was a good picture. But I had to get ready for my class so I started to get dressed and flipped on the TV.
And there was the tower in all its glory. Except smoke was engulfing right where I would have been standing.
On the first glance I thought it was a news story about the anniversary of the bombing in the tower from a few years back. Then I heard Matt Lauer on the Today show just talking about an accident. I didn't really get what had happened so I just assumed it was a fire in the building. Again I stood transfixed by the coincidence that I was just looking at my pic. And then a small white blip entered the screen. That's the moment things became different.
As a fire ball erupted on the screen I heard Matt's voice get excited and fearful in a matter of split seconds. A second accident? Wow, what are the odds. Later that day I would realize that the odds were not good at all.
Yet I watched a little bit more. Chaos ensued as it should have and commentators spent the next minutes recapping and coming to grips with what they just experienced. I on the other hand was getting late for my class. So I turned off the tv, told my roommate what I just saw, and headed out the door.
I was in a class with no TV reception when the buildings took their fateful dive to the surface of the earth. I never got to see it firsthand. Of course I relived that moment through stories and recaps and repeats for weeks on end as the world came to grips with this unprecedented attacks. But when it was happening in real time I was working on a project in my theatre makeup class; marginally unaware at the severity of what I had viewed that morning. There was fear and uncertainty, yes, but not to the extent of what it should have been. We were all sort of detached on September the 11, 2001.
I didn't look at that picture again for seven years. I put it away when I got back to my dorm room for some reason unknown to me at the time. While I was going through my stacks of pictures one day I stumbled across it. And I stared at it again. Through tear streaked eyes I remembered that day and the ones that followed.
Pictures of me in the past 10 years are few and far between. There are those that have chronicled my life in its important moments since that day, but not nearly enough. I just stopped taking the volume of pictures that I used to. Now I don't really like being in pictures all that much. I never knew why until this anniversary came about. I guess I just never wanted to wake up, look at another picture, and have my world rocked again.
The first time I flew in a plane afterwards was, ironically, out of the same airport where the two planes that took down the building has left from. It was an experience filled with an underlying dread that I have not forgotten about in the years past. Luckily I have not had that same volume of unnerving terror since.
I was not there on that day. I may have been a thousand miles away tucked in my safe classroom in Charleston, Illinois yet I have my own story about the day things changed. And I am proud of that. Cause, good or bad, I was part of history in its purest form. I have a story to add to the collective conscientiousness of that day.
That September lead to two more stories in my life that changed it forever. But those are for another time.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
A Summer's Eve Innoculation
It appears that without fail each year there is some sort of medical crisis that grips the world in its clutches and starts to do some devastation. The media gives these actual medical emergencies fearful names such as Bird Flu, Mad Cow, and Swine Flu. I kinda feel bad for these animals cause now when someone talks about them they are gonna be synonymous with these pandemics of worldly distruction. Yet there is one epidemic that I have noticed clutching the world and no one seems to comment on; until now. And the fun name I have come up with is pretty simplistic. Its the Douche Disease.
When I talk about this Douche Disease I am narrowing the medical definition to those who are just plain stupid, disrespectful, arrogant, and cocky in ways that can be modified through simplistic steps. Lets call it Stage 1 of Douche. There is a vaccine for it. The other stages of douche go way beyond medical help to even mention here. There is no hope for them. So lets just stick with stage 1 in this rant, thank you.
Now I am not a perfect guy. Far from it in fact if my track record in dealing with the fairer sex has anything to say about it. One divorce and multiple failed relationships. I only bring this up to state that I am coming from a somewhat biased place here. I had to do something douche-like to acquire that record. Yet I like to think that I have been innoculated and am on the road to recovery. Discoveries have been made by me in the process. Yet there are a few instances of the Douche Disease that I have noticed lately that should not go unalerted.
Today in yours truly's favorite book store I overheard a conversation that made me cringe quite a bit. Four men-who-were-anything-but-gentle douched their way up to an isle:
One asked "Why are we in a bookstore?" in a tone that suggested that he didn't know how to even open a book let alone read it.
"I pissed of this one chick (Douche thing #1 to say) and she said something about a book I should get her. I wasn't listening. (And there's #2) So I am gonna get her a book." This was said by a young lad whom I can only assume spent more time trying to figure out the lay of his hair then forming a coherent sentence.
And then a third one piped in with this nugget of wisdom, "Why don't you get her a book on not being a bitch. Or something about her period." GENIUS!!!
Here ends our short play as I had to walk briskly away, banging the stupid out of my head with a hardback copy of Victor Hugo's Les Miserable. It was the thickest book within arms reach. I am actually surprised I didn't throw it at them. I would have dealt with the pain its weight probably would have inflicted to my already sore shoulder.
Marvel won't you at the respect these "men" have for themselves and others. Wonder at the intelligence that they exude. Gasp at the complete humbleness of themselves in the eyes of the world.
Now something baffles me about this little scene, besides how I managed to keep my blood pressure down due to their extremely idiotic and misogynistic comments, and that is how these four people survive and thrive in this world. I am sure by just their outward appearance they are found appealing by the opposite sex without regard to their complete lack of inner anything. I would even hedge a bet that they can have their pick of any number of attractive women.
And these four douches are not the only example. All over this world things like this are happening. Guys can be and say anything douchy and still be seen as appealing to those who should know better. I am surrounded daily by those male specimens that feel entitled to treat woman in such a demeaning way only to be rewarded by the young ladies flocking to them. Its an epidemic I tell ya.
But there is hope. And I, as a medicated patient myself, have a few tips on how to avoid this horrific disease. Its really simple to avoid looking like a douche to ladies.
1. Open a door for her. Its a simple thing that speaks volumes for your character and shows that you have a bit of classic manners long since forgotten.
2. Compliment something. Whether it be something as large as her complete outfit or small as the way her eyes pop when she looks around compliment her on something to let her know you are paying attention.
3. Read the book you are mocking. Let her know that you are interested in what she likes. And even if you don't care for the book itself, read the whole thing so that way you have a conversation not based on the first few pages.
4. Stop referring to others by adjectives. People have names, use them and only them.
5. Put yourself aside for a while. Participate in her life and likes. And don't mock things that you might not find interesting, because she does find them interesting. And soon she might not find you interesting.
These are just a few steps to becoming less of a douche and more of a man. There is a reason the first syllable in manners is "man" cause that is what defines a gentleman in the first place. Manners!
Some might say that this rant is coming from a place of jealousy due to the fact that I don't have a significant other to call my own. I am okay with this fact. I would rather walk this world alone and not look like a douche then the opposite. But for now I am going to follow my own advice and see where it takes me. I bet in the end I will win. I like to subscribe to the old "nice guys finish last" adage.
Now take two of these shots and call me in the morning.
When I talk about this Douche Disease I am narrowing the medical definition to those who are just plain stupid, disrespectful, arrogant, and cocky in ways that can be modified through simplistic steps. Lets call it Stage 1 of Douche. There is a vaccine for it. The other stages of douche go way beyond medical help to even mention here. There is no hope for them. So lets just stick with stage 1 in this rant, thank you.
Now I am not a perfect guy. Far from it in fact if my track record in dealing with the fairer sex has anything to say about it. One divorce and multiple failed relationships. I only bring this up to state that I am coming from a somewhat biased place here. I had to do something douche-like to acquire that record. Yet I like to think that I have been innoculated and am on the road to recovery. Discoveries have been made by me in the process. Yet there are a few instances of the Douche Disease that I have noticed lately that should not go unalerted.
Today in yours truly's favorite book store I overheard a conversation that made me cringe quite a bit. Four men-who-were-anything-but-gentle douched their way up to an isle:
One asked "Why are we in a bookstore?" in a tone that suggested that he didn't know how to even open a book let alone read it.
"I pissed of this one chick (Douche thing #1 to say) and she said something about a book I should get her. I wasn't listening. (And there's #2) So I am gonna get her a book." This was said by a young lad whom I can only assume spent more time trying to figure out the lay of his hair then forming a coherent sentence.
And then a third one piped in with this nugget of wisdom, "Why don't you get her a book on not being a bitch. Or something about her period." GENIUS!!!
Here ends our short play as I had to walk briskly away, banging the stupid out of my head with a hardback copy of Victor Hugo's Les Miserable. It was the thickest book within arms reach. I am actually surprised I didn't throw it at them. I would have dealt with the pain its weight probably would have inflicted to my already sore shoulder.
Marvel won't you at the respect these "men" have for themselves and others. Wonder at the intelligence that they exude. Gasp at the complete humbleness of themselves in the eyes of the world.
Now something baffles me about this little scene, besides how I managed to keep my blood pressure down due to their extremely idiotic and misogynistic comments, and that is how these four people survive and thrive in this world. I am sure by just their outward appearance they are found appealing by the opposite sex without regard to their complete lack of inner anything. I would even hedge a bet that they can have their pick of any number of attractive women.
And these four douches are not the only example. All over this world things like this are happening. Guys can be and say anything douchy and still be seen as appealing to those who should know better. I am surrounded daily by those male specimens that feel entitled to treat woman in such a demeaning way only to be rewarded by the young ladies flocking to them. Its an epidemic I tell ya.
But there is hope. And I, as a medicated patient myself, have a few tips on how to avoid this horrific disease. Its really simple to avoid looking like a douche to ladies.
1. Open a door for her. Its a simple thing that speaks volumes for your character and shows that you have a bit of classic manners long since forgotten.
2. Compliment something. Whether it be something as large as her complete outfit or small as the way her eyes pop when she looks around compliment her on something to let her know you are paying attention.
3. Read the book you are mocking. Let her know that you are interested in what she likes. And even if you don't care for the book itself, read the whole thing so that way you have a conversation not based on the first few pages.
4. Stop referring to others by adjectives. People have names, use them and only them.
5. Put yourself aside for a while. Participate in her life and likes. And don't mock things that you might not find interesting, because she does find them interesting. And soon she might not find you interesting.
These are just a few steps to becoming less of a douche and more of a man. There is a reason the first syllable in manners is "man" cause that is what defines a gentleman in the first place. Manners!
Some might say that this rant is coming from a place of jealousy due to the fact that I don't have a significant other to call my own. I am okay with this fact. I would rather walk this world alone and not look like a douche then the opposite. But for now I am going to follow my own advice and see where it takes me. I bet in the end I will win. I like to subscribe to the old "nice guys finish last" adage.
Now take two of these shots and call me in the morning.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Original Motion Life Soundtrack
Have you ever watched a purely silent movie? One where the sound was never recorded and subtitles are not present? Its boring. Just a flicker of images on the screen trying its best to expand upon a plot line for your entertainment. Its trying its best but it needs something more to be full. It needs a soundtrack to help elicit emotional responses.
All the great moments in cinema are made better through the use of stirring music that literally rips into your soul and makes you feel for what you are watching. Just try to imagine Superman flying through the air; racing against time to save Louis Lane without the iconic themes of John William's score. Or the feather floating around Forrest Gump's bus station bench without that hauntingly beautiful piano melody. It just is impossible to see their worlds without the use of music to enhance it.
Lately I have been thinking about the soundtrack to the most important movie I have seen. The one that plays through my own camera lens I call eyes. Yes, I am talking about life itself.
I see the world through a movie camera. Its an undeniable byproduct to all those years spent in front of the silver screen in my formative and current years. And because I see the world in this manner it only is an obvious extension that I too would hear the world as it would be in a movie; with a fully orchestrated soundtrack.
If one looked at my iPod song lists they would find a schizophrenic, hyper-actively diverse selection of music that I subject my ears to. During a shuffle session my playlist can jump between hard rock, show tunes, big band, classical, celtic harp, country, and Neil Diamond. Yet each and every song has its purpose for being in such an amalgamation. I tend to purchase songs (no Napster for me) that remind me of certain times and memories in my life. When some moment deeply affects me and stays with me I am always more in tune with the music playing in the background then ever before. So in a sense these songs make up the underlying soundtrack to my own movie.
Most of the songs bring back memories of happier days and times spent hanging out with friends or family or, most importantly to me, falling in love. And every song in my soundtrack tells its own story as to how it fits. But there are a great deal of songs that bring about remembrances of the pain, lose, and sorrow of my life's journey as well. Yet that is perfectly fine with me. You see, you have to have a bit of a downer second act or else the third and final act will not be so uplifting.
This idea of creating my own movie's soundtrack has followed me around since long before I can remember. Its a wonderful mental reminder when I listen to my music of where life has taken me and all its lessons that it has brought forth. Some tribulations I have learned from and others the message is a little harder to comprehend, but that's life in all its mystical glory.
Life is not a movie, no matter how much we wish it to be. But that doesn't mean we can't hope for the fulfillment that a great story can bring. I think there are worst ways to view this world than through the lens of your eye camera and with the sounds of your own life album. So while you are wading through your existence start making a note on how music interacts and elicits its own emotional response from you. Compile them into a playlist and really listen to it. Let it take you back to all the memories of times past both good and painful. Its fun and you get one hell of an album; unique to your own movie.
All the great moments in cinema are made better through the use of stirring music that literally rips into your soul and makes you feel for what you are watching. Just try to imagine Superman flying through the air; racing against time to save Louis Lane without the iconic themes of John William's score. Or the feather floating around Forrest Gump's bus station bench without that hauntingly beautiful piano melody. It just is impossible to see their worlds without the use of music to enhance it.
Lately I have been thinking about the soundtrack to the most important movie I have seen. The one that plays through my own camera lens I call eyes. Yes, I am talking about life itself.
I see the world through a movie camera. Its an undeniable byproduct to all those years spent in front of the silver screen in my formative and current years. And because I see the world in this manner it only is an obvious extension that I too would hear the world as it would be in a movie; with a fully orchestrated soundtrack.
If one looked at my iPod song lists they would find a schizophrenic, hyper-actively diverse selection of music that I subject my ears to. During a shuffle session my playlist can jump between hard rock, show tunes, big band, classical, celtic harp, country, and Neil Diamond. Yet each and every song has its purpose for being in such an amalgamation. I tend to purchase songs (no Napster for me) that remind me of certain times and memories in my life. When some moment deeply affects me and stays with me I am always more in tune with the music playing in the background then ever before. So in a sense these songs make up the underlying soundtrack to my own movie.
Most of the songs bring back memories of happier days and times spent hanging out with friends or family or, most importantly to me, falling in love. And every song in my soundtrack tells its own story as to how it fits. But there are a great deal of songs that bring about remembrances of the pain, lose, and sorrow of my life's journey as well. Yet that is perfectly fine with me. You see, you have to have a bit of a downer second act or else the third and final act will not be so uplifting.
This idea of creating my own movie's soundtrack has followed me around since long before I can remember. Its a wonderful mental reminder when I listen to my music of where life has taken me and all its lessons that it has brought forth. Some tribulations I have learned from and others the message is a little harder to comprehend, but that's life in all its mystical glory.
Life is not a movie, no matter how much we wish it to be. But that doesn't mean we can't hope for the fulfillment that a great story can bring. I think there are worst ways to view this world than through the lens of your eye camera and with the sounds of your own life album. So while you are wading through your existence start making a note on how music interacts and elicits its own emotional response from you. Compile them into a playlist and really listen to it. Let it take you back to all the memories of times past both good and painful. Its fun and you get one hell of an album; unique to your own movie.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
If just one person....
Let's talk about Inspiration. The concept is one that we hear a great deal about in this modern world. It seems we, the masses, are always looking for inspiration to fulfill our lives and give it meaning. I am reminded about the election of our current President and his slogan of "Yes We Can" in regards to turning our nation upon a better path. Pretty inspiring stuff if you ask me. It got everyone in a frenzy and actually looked like things might work it out. All that still remains to be seen, but the point is that people were inspired to do something for themselves. Which is a good thing to want. We should be inspired to perform past our abilities and enhance the world. If we don't then who will? If inspiration doesn't push anyone to excel then the world will just become a mundane line with no peaks or valleys. In other words, we will die of just being ehh.
A few souls in my life are doing things that have inspired me or that I feel are inspired in themselves. Here is a small smidgen of who those people are and how they have played a role of Muse in my current existence. Thats right kids, its another list of things!!!!
Well I want to start off with the first person and reason why I am thinking about inspirations in the first place. A friend of mine is doing something truly exceptional and absurd. (I use absurd in a good way here. Trying to expand my vocab.) He has taken it upon himself to celebrate a holiday or multiple holidays each day for a year. Sounds fun doesn't it? Sounds crazy doesn't it a bit? On both I would say a resounding yes. But it is also genius to me. You see, in today's world of cynicism and sarcasm its nice to see a person go around celebrating even the most ordinary of things. Celebrations should be touted with all the trumpets of Jericho instead of being put to the wayside like so often happens. The human condition is hard enough so instead of dwelling on hardships he is trying to lift up the happiness no matter where or what it is. Its not an easy thing to do in the least. I am sure he is tired and overwhelmed by the task at hand. But that is why its inspirational. To do something that you truly believe in without the need for endorsement or accolades, but for just themselves in the face of hardships and stress is the very definition of inspired. He has me following everyday to see how things pan out. I silently watch each video and feel part of something bigger than myself. I have even been thinking about helping whenever I can which is a big step for me cause I have a debilitating shyness that hinders anything like this. One more reason that its inspirational message of joy, fun and hope is powerful. Through his project I have started to want to break down my own walls and do something crazy, or at least be part of it. And I bet he just thought he was doing something for the hell of it.
In my life I have run across some very creative people. Conversations with them bring about an understanding of the world in which we live and how to perceive it in a way that my brain could never conceive of on its own. Most of this creativity stems to the entertainment industry as that is my business. Yet it can also help in all matter of existence. These people that surround me are going to run the world soon and bring forth their unique visions to the mind's eye of the people. It inspires me to see them not hindered by setbacks and rejections. Some use their constant "shut doors" as a means to keep trying and improving till perfection. Sounds like a cliche doesn't it? Well the inspiration comes from my own personal desires to be creative in the world. Yet, as stated before, I have a shyness and laziness that hinders my drive. I am afraid of rejection in the most fundamental ways. And this has stopped me from doing many things in my few years upon this planet. But seeing these individuals push forward is a breathing reminder of why that cliche exists. Cause its true. If you keep pushing forward then soon enough that which pushes you back will give in and embrace you. And that is when real magic will happen. Just you wait and see.
Last, and certainly not least or final, of my inspiring persons is a dear friend of mine who went an just uprooted her life for a dream. She basically pulled stakes and "lit out for the territories" (Thanks, Stephen King) without a concrete plan or direction. To me who has been wanting a path to follow this is truly an inspiration. I have been rooted to my own place with a desire for something new for a very long time and I too would have gone my way had a logical thinking mind not stopped me. I have always wanted to be secure financially and understand what the next three moves are before I act. So just going has never been an option for me; even when I know where I want to go. So when my friend announced she was just going to try some things in a new place I felt really inspired and drawn to her "planless plan." She is brave to chase her dream to whatever corner of the globe it might be hiding in, and along the way find who she is in the mean time. Not saying that she didn't think logically about it all its just she didn't let her brain stop her heart from taking control. And now I am desperately trying to give my own heart the ammunition it needs to make a coup d'etat of my brain's dictatorship. I know it can happen because I have a role model in my friend.
All these things and much more are seen as small things in this vast world, but to me they are huge (and not in the Fun Spot way) and inspirational. I can only hope that one day I will do something in the same vain which may get another to think about what inspires them on a blog post on the internet. Perhaps it will be for my positive use of the word "absurd" to expand vocabulary. Now go find your own inspirations.
P.S. Follow my friends quest to celebrate the holidays at http://celebrateproject.tumblr.com/ and even join in the fun. You will not regret it.
A few souls in my life are doing things that have inspired me or that I feel are inspired in themselves. Here is a small smidgen of who those people are and how they have played a role of Muse in my current existence. Thats right kids, its another list of things!!!!
Well I want to start off with the first person and reason why I am thinking about inspirations in the first place. A friend of mine is doing something truly exceptional and absurd. (I use absurd in a good way here. Trying to expand my vocab.) He has taken it upon himself to celebrate a holiday or multiple holidays each day for a year. Sounds fun doesn't it? Sounds crazy doesn't it a bit? On both I would say a resounding yes. But it is also genius to me. You see, in today's world of cynicism and sarcasm its nice to see a person go around celebrating even the most ordinary of things. Celebrations should be touted with all the trumpets of Jericho instead of being put to the wayside like so often happens. The human condition is hard enough so instead of dwelling on hardships he is trying to lift up the happiness no matter where or what it is. Its not an easy thing to do in the least. I am sure he is tired and overwhelmed by the task at hand. But that is why its inspirational. To do something that you truly believe in without the need for endorsement or accolades, but for just themselves in the face of hardships and stress is the very definition of inspired. He has me following everyday to see how things pan out. I silently watch each video and feel part of something bigger than myself. I have even been thinking about helping whenever I can which is a big step for me cause I have a debilitating shyness that hinders anything like this. One more reason that its inspirational message of joy, fun and hope is powerful. Through his project I have started to want to break down my own walls and do something crazy, or at least be part of it. And I bet he just thought he was doing something for the hell of it.
In my life I have run across some very creative people. Conversations with them bring about an understanding of the world in which we live and how to perceive it in a way that my brain could never conceive of on its own. Most of this creativity stems to the entertainment industry as that is my business. Yet it can also help in all matter of existence. These people that surround me are going to run the world soon and bring forth their unique visions to the mind's eye of the people. It inspires me to see them not hindered by setbacks and rejections. Some use their constant "shut doors" as a means to keep trying and improving till perfection. Sounds like a cliche doesn't it? Well the inspiration comes from my own personal desires to be creative in the world. Yet, as stated before, I have a shyness and laziness that hinders my drive. I am afraid of rejection in the most fundamental ways. And this has stopped me from doing many things in my few years upon this planet. But seeing these individuals push forward is a breathing reminder of why that cliche exists. Cause its true. If you keep pushing forward then soon enough that which pushes you back will give in and embrace you. And that is when real magic will happen. Just you wait and see.
Last, and certainly not least or final, of my inspiring persons is a dear friend of mine who went an just uprooted her life for a dream. She basically pulled stakes and "lit out for the territories" (Thanks, Stephen King) without a concrete plan or direction. To me who has been wanting a path to follow this is truly an inspiration. I have been rooted to my own place with a desire for something new for a very long time and I too would have gone my way had a logical thinking mind not stopped me. I have always wanted to be secure financially and understand what the next three moves are before I act. So just going has never been an option for me; even when I know where I want to go. So when my friend announced she was just going to try some things in a new place I felt really inspired and drawn to her "planless plan." She is brave to chase her dream to whatever corner of the globe it might be hiding in, and along the way find who she is in the mean time. Not saying that she didn't think logically about it all its just she didn't let her brain stop her heart from taking control. And now I am desperately trying to give my own heart the ammunition it needs to make a coup d'etat of my brain's dictatorship. I know it can happen because I have a role model in my friend.
All these things and much more are seen as small things in this vast world, but to me they are huge (and not in the Fun Spot way) and inspirational. I can only hope that one day I will do something in the same vain which may get another to think about what inspires them on a blog post on the internet. Perhaps it will be for my positive use of the word "absurd" to expand vocabulary. Now go find your own inspirations.
P.S. Follow my friends quest to celebrate the holidays at http://celebrateproject.tumblr.com/ and even join in the fun. You will not regret it.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Happiness is.........
Hello all (or one, I really don't know if anyone is reading this),
I hope your days are going well and filled with whatever you want them to be. I truly mean that as I spend most of my days either working or slacking off when I should be working. Yet I also find that I spend a great deal of my limited seconds on this earth in thought of a topic for this week's posting. I have about 60 different things daily that pop into my head that would make a good topic of discussion. Yet I find when I get around to writing them I can't seem to recall what they were. I really should start writing down the topic list. Oh organization, you are just not for me.
Anywho, this week I was going to talk about memories and where they come from and how they affect my life in its current state. I am not going to lie it was shaping up to be a downer of a post. There is a lot to say about memories from me at this point in life, and mostly my frame of mind is on the negative/ depressing use of them. But then a ray of light game upon me in a most unusual way.
Now some people state that inspiration comes in the form of a song, or art, or reading. Mine came in the tri-tone jingle of a text message. Now you can probably see how happy I was just to see a text from someone as I seem to have fallen out of favor in the communication department with many of my regular chaters, but this one came out of the blue with a question from a relatively old friend who has been a communication hermit herself. She asked me "Have you ever tried to make yourself happy?"
Wow. That's and interesting thing to have pop up on your phone. Well, in regards to the text message I did my best counseling schtick and wrote back a variety of cliches about just being happy and not trying to make yourself happy. I know I said they were cliches, but they are cliches for a reason. Cause they are tried, tested, and true. Why else would one continue to doll them out as sage advice? I think I came up with my own variations of good themes and really sent some nuggets of wisdom off. I am good at that.
So I went on with my day, but for some reason that thought of what makes one happy stuck with me. So I decided to skip the downer memory post (don't worry, you didn't dodge a bullet with that one, it will return. I wrote it down) and make a list of the few things in life that truly make me happy at age 29 in the year 2011.
1. Family.
On December of last year my family was expanded by an extra member. This would be my niece, Anna. She is the first addition to our family child-wise and with her brings so many new promises that I never even explored for the G---- clan. With this little person it seemed a renewal of sorts came over all of us. Happiness and love have always been a large part of my family. We have always been close, together, and functional, yet Anna has brought a new happiness feeling to us all. Its just fun to see my father go all weak whenever he sees her or to see my brother take charge as "daddy" in a way that I would never have thought possible. Also, I must admit, I am really loving seeing a small baby around in pics and videos which is no small feat for me. (Read an earlier post on my baby views.) I miss my family more than ever now, but I know that when I get to see them there will be one more set of eyes welcoming me and that makes the distance not so tough.
2. Friends.
I have some pretty amazing friends. I don't tell them very often and in recent times I have not gotten a whole lot of chances to be around them, but they are still some of the best people I know. Anyone that has entered my life in some way has enriched it and those closest to me have struck upon me a great enrichment that I can only hope is recipricated in some small way by me. They have let me laugh with them; let me cry on their couches; let me yell about life, love and everything in between; and they have let me just be myself. Nothing can be better than that. I hope each one knows how important they are to who I have become today.
3. Work
I don't like my job all the time, but I am happy that I have one. It might not be exactly what I want to be doing with my career at this moment however it is far from what I don't want to be doing. I go to work each day hoping for the times between the shows when we sit around and just talk. Our conversations are legendary and range on so many topics that its imposible to convey them all in this "internet" thing. For me going to work is just an extension of #2 as everyone there is a friend of mine. And for that I will always be grateful to have been a part of this company.
4. Reading
As you can tell if you are a regular follower I love to read. The simple enjoyment of escaping into my mind where new friends and knowledge abound is unmatched. Recently this love has been stoked by my purchase of a Nook (I can't sing its praises enough) which in itself has opened the possibilities to read things that never interested me before. I set up shop in a corner booth and just read to my hearts content. The 'one hour free read' timer helps me return to the world at large and not de-evolve into a mass of unmovable flab which I am sure I would because I will not stop myself from reading if had the choice. It really makes me happy to know that reading in any form will always be around and be entertaining when all other things in life may fade away at the drop of a hat. So this is a big one that makes me smile.
5. Muppets
A slight obsession with Jim Henson's creations has ruled my life since I was a small boy. I never really can pinpoint what it was that first turned me on to the Muppets, but I don't really care. They have been a large part of my development (Sesame Street), a bonding mechanism for myself and my older brother (Muppet Movies at large), and a career goal for me. It is my dream to one day perform with the Muppets or be a muppeteer. Just one of the background characters would be fine with me; just to say I did it. Anytime I feel sad or depressed I know that I can throw any number of my Muppet's DVDs (and there are many!) into a machine and just feel right for awhile even if it is the 375th time I have seen it. Thats just a powerful magic that speaks to my heart in a way that nothing else can.
6. Alone
As much as I love spending time with friends and family I equally like spending time with myself. Its lonely and sometimes depressing to walk around by myself so much, but I always have a good time taking myself out. I enjoy people watching or going to places that may turn others off. And some of the things I do just require quiet, peace, and serenity that I always feel uncomfortable asking from someone else. So being alone in some rare cases makes me happy. Yet this is the most flexible of my list of things. It can be deleted at any time. Ya hear me ladies!
So that's my small list. It is by no means the only things that come to mind that make me happy right now, there are way too many to mention right now. In the writing of this I noticed that each of these connects to the other in some way. I have made friends due to talking about the Muppets; I have a family who gives me the space to be alone when needed; Reading has allowed me to make a new family. All things are connected. I am starting to see that maybe tha'ts what life is about; finding things that make you happy and seeing how they can expand the others to make you super happy in all aspects of life.
Try seeing what your list is and how each compliments the other. And until next time....
I hope your days are going well and filled with whatever you want them to be. I truly mean that as I spend most of my days either working or slacking off when I should be working. Yet I also find that I spend a great deal of my limited seconds on this earth in thought of a topic for this week's posting. I have about 60 different things daily that pop into my head that would make a good topic of discussion. Yet I find when I get around to writing them I can't seem to recall what they were. I really should start writing down the topic list. Oh organization, you are just not for me.
Anywho, this week I was going to talk about memories and where they come from and how they affect my life in its current state. I am not going to lie it was shaping up to be a downer of a post. There is a lot to say about memories from me at this point in life, and mostly my frame of mind is on the negative/ depressing use of them. But then a ray of light game upon me in a most unusual way.
Now some people state that inspiration comes in the form of a song, or art, or reading. Mine came in the tri-tone jingle of a text message. Now you can probably see how happy I was just to see a text from someone as I seem to have fallen out of favor in the communication department with many of my regular chaters, but this one came out of the blue with a question from a relatively old friend who has been a communication hermit herself. She asked me "Have you ever tried to make yourself happy?"
Wow. That's and interesting thing to have pop up on your phone. Well, in regards to the text message I did my best counseling schtick and wrote back a variety of cliches about just being happy and not trying to make yourself happy. I know I said they were cliches, but they are cliches for a reason. Cause they are tried, tested, and true. Why else would one continue to doll them out as sage advice? I think I came up with my own variations of good themes and really sent some nuggets of wisdom off. I am good at that.
So I went on with my day, but for some reason that thought of what makes one happy stuck with me. So I decided to skip the downer memory post (don't worry, you didn't dodge a bullet with that one, it will return. I wrote it down) and make a list of the few things in life that truly make me happy at age 29 in the year 2011.
1. Family.
On December of last year my family was expanded by an extra member. This would be my niece, Anna. She is the first addition to our family child-wise and with her brings so many new promises that I never even explored for the G---- clan. With this little person it seemed a renewal of sorts came over all of us. Happiness and love have always been a large part of my family. We have always been close, together, and functional, yet Anna has brought a new happiness feeling to us all. Its just fun to see my father go all weak whenever he sees her or to see my brother take charge as "daddy" in a way that I would never have thought possible. Also, I must admit, I am really loving seeing a small baby around in pics and videos which is no small feat for me. (Read an earlier post on my baby views.) I miss my family more than ever now, but I know that when I get to see them there will be one more set of eyes welcoming me and that makes the distance not so tough.
2. Friends.
I have some pretty amazing friends. I don't tell them very often and in recent times I have not gotten a whole lot of chances to be around them, but they are still some of the best people I know. Anyone that has entered my life in some way has enriched it and those closest to me have struck upon me a great enrichment that I can only hope is recipricated in some small way by me. They have let me laugh with them; let me cry on their couches; let me yell about life, love and everything in between; and they have let me just be myself. Nothing can be better than that. I hope each one knows how important they are to who I have become today.
3. Work
I don't like my job all the time, but I am happy that I have one. It might not be exactly what I want to be doing with my career at this moment however it is far from what I don't want to be doing. I go to work each day hoping for the times between the shows when we sit around and just talk. Our conversations are legendary and range on so many topics that its imposible to convey them all in this "internet" thing. For me going to work is just an extension of #2 as everyone there is a friend of mine. And for that I will always be grateful to have been a part of this company.
4. Reading
As you can tell if you are a regular follower I love to read. The simple enjoyment of escaping into my mind where new friends and knowledge abound is unmatched. Recently this love has been stoked by my purchase of a Nook (I can't sing its praises enough) which in itself has opened the possibilities to read things that never interested me before. I set up shop in a corner booth and just read to my hearts content. The 'one hour free read' timer helps me return to the world at large and not de-evolve into a mass of unmovable flab which I am sure I would because I will not stop myself from reading if had the choice. It really makes me happy to know that reading in any form will always be around and be entertaining when all other things in life may fade away at the drop of a hat. So this is a big one that makes me smile.
5. Muppets
A slight obsession with Jim Henson's creations has ruled my life since I was a small boy. I never really can pinpoint what it was that first turned me on to the Muppets, but I don't really care. They have been a large part of my development (Sesame Street), a bonding mechanism for myself and my older brother (Muppet Movies at large), and a career goal for me. It is my dream to one day perform with the Muppets or be a muppeteer. Just one of the background characters would be fine with me; just to say I did it. Anytime I feel sad or depressed I know that I can throw any number of my Muppet's DVDs (and there are many!) into a machine and just feel right for awhile even if it is the 375th time I have seen it. Thats just a powerful magic that speaks to my heart in a way that nothing else can.
6. Alone
As much as I love spending time with friends and family I equally like spending time with myself. Its lonely and sometimes depressing to walk around by myself so much, but I always have a good time taking myself out. I enjoy people watching or going to places that may turn others off. And some of the things I do just require quiet, peace, and serenity that I always feel uncomfortable asking from someone else. So being alone in some rare cases makes me happy. Yet this is the most flexible of my list of things. It can be deleted at any time. Ya hear me ladies!
So that's my small list. It is by no means the only things that come to mind that make me happy right now, there are way too many to mention right now. In the writing of this I noticed that each of these connects to the other in some way. I have made friends due to talking about the Muppets; I have a family who gives me the space to be alone when needed; Reading has allowed me to make a new family. All things are connected. I am starting to see that maybe tha'ts what life is about; finding things that make you happy and seeing how they can expand the others to make you super happy in all aspects of life.
Try seeing what your list is and how each compliments the other. And until next time....
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Victori-uhhs? Secret
Barney Stinson is a role model. Not so much in the woman-izing misogynistic sort of way (even though it is awesome to see a totally out gay man play such a person with complete and utter believably) but in his sense of fashion and attire. I can't think of anything I would much rather wear in this lifetime than a suit. See how "anti-establishment" I am!
There is just something classic about a suit. Its elegant, sophisticated, and down right good looking. Sometimes I wonder how and why suits have lasted as long as they have in today's modern world but then I realize that nothing better has come along. I see all these shows and magazines that advertise the latest "fashion" coming from far off lands in Europe, yet nothing in these look at all close to replacing that simplistic design of a shirt and tie combo. Oh well, keep trying there designers; perhaps burlap and strange geometry will win out in the end.
For me its the perception that wearing a suit gets you by other people. I walk down the halls of my workplace or the local shopping center in my casual attire and barely get a notice. I am the 6' 188lb invisible man in a tee shirt and jeans. Yet once I throw a nice tie and collared shirt on its like I come into focus to others. I get looks streamed my way and even regular acquaintances make comments as to how nice I look. I like to think I look nice everyday, but I know what they mean. There is just something about that long fabric wrapped in a knot that draws the eye.
In my job its customary for people to come to work post-casual. Whats that you might ask? Well given what I do most people come to work looking like complete hell. No make up, clothes that have not seen the light of day in months, hair tosseled or shoved cruelly under a hat. Have I painted a pretty good picture of the ragged masses that pass through my halls each and everyday? Well its understandable to not get dressed up to sweat and stew in your own funk for hours on end. Sometimes I wonder how anyone gets a date around my job looking like they do. Yet I digress. So in this sea of zombiefied fashion atrocities getting "dolled" up to a point of normality turns a lot of heads. Mostly its a female in a pretty dress that gets the attention, but every now and then its that guy in the jacket that is getting checked out. Just an interesting phenomenon, and for someone like me, who wishes to be noticed by others, its a mandate.
As an entertainer I get to dress up in many different costumes and roles. Its nice to have that variety. You never know what you will look like from day to day. Yet there is a secret I hide from the world. I would kill for a 9-5 desk job if it let me wear a suit all day. But you didn't hear that from me.
Every now and then I like to just look nice for no reason. I have no formal setting to go to, or interview to impress for, or job requirement that lead me to these days. I just wake up, want to look nice, and dress myself in the one suit I own. And then I go shopping. Or to a museum. Or just out with no particular place to go. Just out feeling sophisticated in nice attire. I equate the feeling of wearing it to that of a woman wearing lingerie. Some females wear sexy underwear even when they know no one will see it that day just to feel good about themselves and feel sexy. I have the same feeling with ties. It just makes me feel good about myself. Its the little things.
Enjoy the day people. Wear whatever it is that makes you feel good. Suit UP!
There is just something classic about a suit. Its elegant, sophisticated, and down right good looking. Sometimes I wonder how and why suits have lasted as long as they have in today's modern world but then I realize that nothing better has come along. I see all these shows and magazines that advertise the latest "fashion" coming from far off lands in Europe, yet nothing in these look at all close to replacing that simplistic design of a shirt and tie combo. Oh well, keep trying there designers; perhaps burlap and strange geometry will win out in the end.
For me its the perception that wearing a suit gets you by other people. I walk down the halls of my workplace or the local shopping center in my casual attire and barely get a notice. I am the 6' 188lb invisible man in a tee shirt and jeans. Yet once I throw a nice tie and collared shirt on its like I come into focus to others. I get looks streamed my way and even regular acquaintances make comments as to how nice I look. I like to think I look nice everyday, but I know what they mean. There is just something about that long fabric wrapped in a knot that draws the eye.
In my job its customary for people to come to work post-casual. Whats that you might ask? Well given what I do most people come to work looking like complete hell. No make up, clothes that have not seen the light of day in months, hair tosseled or shoved cruelly under a hat. Have I painted a pretty good picture of the ragged masses that pass through my halls each and everyday? Well its understandable to not get dressed up to sweat and stew in your own funk for hours on end. Sometimes I wonder how anyone gets a date around my job looking like they do. Yet I digress. So in this sea of zombiefied fashion atrocities getting "dolled" up to a point of normality turns a lot of heads. Mostly its a female in a pretty dress that gets the attention, but every now and then its that guy in the jacket that is getting checked out. Just an interesting phenomenon, and for someone like me, who wishes to be noticed by others, its a mandate.
As an entertainer I get to dress up in many different costumes and roles. Its nice to have that variety. You never know what you will look like from day to day. Yet there is a secret I hide from the world. I would kill for a 9-5 desk job if it let me wear a suit all day. But you didn't hear that from me.
Every now and then I like to just look nice for no reason. I have no formal setting to go to, or interview to impress for, or job requirement that lead me to these days. I just wake up, want to look nice, and dress myself in the one suit I own. And then I go shopping. Or to a museum. Or just out with no particular place to go. Just out feeling sophisticated in nice attire. I equate the feeling of wearing it to that of a woman wearing lingerie. Some females wear sexy underwear even when they know no one will see it that day just to feel good about themselves and feel sexy. I have the same feeling with ties. It just makes me feel good about myself. Its the little things.
Enjoy the day people. Wear whatever it is that makes you feel good. Suit UP!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Would it be Loverly?
Views on Love and what it is will always be a cliche in blogs around the world. It seems like everyone sooner or later feels the need to expunge their own opinions of this mythical force that can bind, tear, heal, or hurt in any number of ways. I chalk it up to the human condition and something that we can all relate to in some way. Its the only thing that a person can share without a great deal of controversy in the same way that religion or politics is. So go ahead bloggers of the world and wax poetic about that most gracious of four letter words. Someone will always read it. And with that being said here is my unwanted, unsolicited, yet unavoidable cliche of a post.
In my short existence on this planet I can say that I have felt Love in its pure sense a few times. Actually I have been proud to know Love these times in many different ways. Of course there is the Love that stems from parents wishing me the best. Always a wonderful thing to know that there is at least two people that Love me no matter how off the mark I might get. There is also the Love of my friends. That is a Love that needs building and time, but can just be as strong. I have been witness to such affection in times of need and times of joy for which I will always be truly grateful. I have also felt the Love of intimacy with a few special people in my life. This I find is the most confusing Love of all. Yet it is the one that I wish to talk about (duh) in more depth here.
Let me get this out as a truth right away. I have been Loved in this third way by very special and amazing people. Their Love lit my life with glow that only shined greater each day it passed. The harmonious illumination that Love brings to us in this form is unparalleled by any incandescent bulb or halogen. I think in some ways this light might be more brilliant in its form than Heaven itself for it can penetrate even the darkest of one's inner corners. And it is on this feeling that I feel the greatest sadness. For with all its brilliant light I still found a way in each instance to damper it like so many doused candles.
Whenever an unconditional Love presents itself in my life I try to find the condition that will turn it on its side. Its just something that I do. Selfish and conceded I know. But something always seems to tell me that I am not doing it right or that I will never be worthy of this amount of light. So to preempt the eventual darkness, I hold onto what I can while snuffing out the residual glow. And it hurts those that only wish to Love me. And for that I can never apologize enough for.
It seems now in my own life I find myself asking a very simple question. Did I miss it? Was that my ration of Love that I threw away so carelessly? Will I be worthy again of even a sliver of Love's illumination? All questions I know are asked by many people. I am one of them. Its dark in here.
So why, you might ask, did I just have to read that depressing passage filled with whining and self-pity? Well the answer actually is the most cliched of ideals when dealing with Love. Hold onto it! If in your life you feel the glow and brilliance of Love's light streaming to you from another without discourse or preamble you must do whatever it takes to not only embrace it, but to reflect it back with such a brilliance that it blinds the world. Because if you don't and let yourself shutter in the darkness of your person than you may be doomed to walk in darkness forever wondering where the door is.
Go towards the light.
In my short existence on this planet I can say that I have felt Love in its pure sense a few times. Actually I have been proud to know Love these times in many different ways. Of course there is the Love that stems from parents wishing me the best. Always a wonderful thing to know that there is at least two people that Love me no matter how off the mark I might get. There is also the Love of my friends. That is a Love that needs building and time, but can just be as strong. I have been witness to such affection in times of need and times of joy for which I will always be truly grateful. I have also felt the Love of intimacy with a few special people in my life. This I find is the most confusing Love of all. Yet it is the one that I wish to talk about (duh) in more depth here.
Let me get this out as a truth right away. I have been Loved in this third way by very special and amazing people. Their Love lit my life with glow that only shined greater each day it passed. The harmonious illumination that Love brings to us in this form is unparalleled by any incandescent bulb or halogen. I think in some ways this light might be more brilliant in its form than Heaven itself for it can penetrate even the darkest of one's inner corners. And it is on this feeling that I feel the greatest sadness. For with all its brilliant light I still found a way in each instance to damper it like so many doused candles.
Whenever an unconditional Love presents itself in my life I try to find the condition that will turn it on its side. Its just something that I do. Selfish and conceded I know. But something always seems to tell me that I am not doing it right or that I will never be worthy of this amount of light. So to preempt the eventual darkness, I hold onto what I can while snuffing out the residual glow. And it hurts those that only wish to Love me. And for that I can never apologize enough for.
It seems now in my own life I find myself asking a very simple question. Did I miss it? Was that my ration of Love that I threw away so carelessly? Will I be worthy again of even a sliver of Love's illumination? All questions I know are asked by many people. I am one of them. Its dark in here.
So why, you might ask, did I just have to read that depressing passage filled with whining and self-pity? Well the answer actually is the most cliched of ideals when dealing with Love. Hold onto it! If in your life you feel the glow and brilliance of Love's light streaming to you from another without discourse or preamble you must do whatever it takes to not only embrace it, but to reflect it back with such a brilliance that it blinds the world. Because if you don't and let yourself shutter in the darkness of your person than you may be doomed to walk in darkness forever wondering where the door is.
Go towards the light.
Reading Rainbow
Life has its phases of things that interest us I find. It seems that my obsessive, addiction-prone interests seem to circulate between movies, reading, video games, and writing. These four things take over my life one subject at a time till I can't get enough of them only for that one to be replaced by the next one to the same avail. Rinse, lather, repeat. Yet lately I have found one of my most favorite things taking up more and more real estate in the entertainment of my person. And that is reading.
I love to read. It stems back to the good old days of Pizza Hut's Book It program that awarded you with pizza for every book you read. Incentive programs and marketing have always worked on me, and the promise of free food (especially a personal Pan Pepparoni Pizza) just was an offer I couldn't refuse. So I like to pinpoint my love of reading to that particular time in my development. So much did I yearn for the delicious round pie that I taught myself to read while walking so that I would never miss an opportunity to crack open a book and escape into my imagination. This is something I still do to this day and I have yet, knock on wood, to ever fall or have an accident from not paying attention. I actually feel I am more attentive when reading than at any other times. I should just start reading while driving; it might make me a better driver. (Disclaimer: Don't do that. It's stupid. And you will die.)
Reading is something that surrounds us on every level. Its a wonderful pastime to open up a book and delve its words for the mysteries that will unlock the universe. Yet I find myself also feeling the need to read anything whether it has value to the mind or not. Lately I have had to admit to myself (as it is Step 1 in my recovery) that I am a Facebook addict. Countless hours have been spent scrolling through status updates of those I hold dear and those I hold afar just to get some small insight into their lives or just to have something to read. I admit its not literature and most of it brings forth a nightmare of grammatical structure that would have Shakespeare wanting to force the vial out of Romeo's ill-fated hands and down the poison himself, but still its words on a page begging to be read. And what can be so wrong with that. Any reading is good reading because it forces your brain to work and comprehend.
A vision of the future popped into my head today while I was, what else, reading in my spot at the local Barnes and Noble. One of my little daughter trolling the shelves looking for her next literary conquest as a weary, yet handsome father looks on with pride and hope that she doesn't pick out Twilight. In that moment I was really happy and started thinking what the world of my child's will be in the book department. I can't wait to introduce my spawn to the world of books and overpriced coffee cafe's. Its the one thing I think I will not fail at as a father. Yet I also felt a pang of sadness thinking that she might not like to read. I think in my life I could accept that with love, but never with happiness. Sad to think about, but true. Reading, for me, created everything that I can say is categorically "me." And for her to not have that same drive....
Yet that is the future. And this is the now. And yesterday is the past. (Don't know why I put that last bit in, but I was on a chronological roll.)
So as I go forward into the next chapter (see what I did there) of my life I know that I will always love to watch movies, play video games, and write but I hope this drive to consume the written word continues to thrive. I will still buy every gaming console available and fill my media cabinet with the latest disc-based movie distribution because that's who I am. And I may ever transfer over completely to digital e-books as a source of material to feed my fix, but I hope that I never feel the day when I just say "Reading is stupid" or "Hand me that Twilight book."
Happy reading, everyone.
I love to read. It stems back to the good old days of Pizza Hut's Book It program that awarded you with pizza for every book you read. Incentive programs and marketing have always worked on me, and the promise of free food (especially a personal Pan Pepparoni Pizza) just was an offer I couldn't refuse. So I like to pinpoint my love of reading to that particular time in my development. So much did I yearn for the delicious round pie that I taught myself to read while walking so that I would never miss an opportunity to crack open a book and escape into my imagination. This is something I still do to this day and I have yet, knock on wood, to ever fall or have an accident from not paying attention. I actually feel I am more attentive when reading than at any other times. I should just start reading while driving; it might make me a better driver. (Disclaimer: Don't do that. It's stupid. And you will die.)
Reading is something that surrounds us on every level. Its a wonderful pastime to open up a book and delve its words for the mysteries that will unlock the universe. Yet I find myself also feeling the need to read anything whether it has value to the mind or not. Lately I have had to admit to myself (as it is Step 1 in my recovery) that I am a Facebook addict. Countless hours have been spent scrolling through status updates of those I hold dear and those I hold afar just to get some small insight into their lives or just to have something to read. I admit its not literature and most of it brings forth a nightmare of grammatical structure that would have Shakespeare wanting to force the vial out of Romeo's ill-fated hands and down the poison himself, but still its words on a page begging to be read. And what can be so wrong with that. Any reading is good reading because it forces your brain to work and comprehend.
A vision of the future popped into my head today while I was, what else, reading in my spot at the local Barnes and Noble. One of my little daughter trolling the shelves looking for her next literary conquest as a weary, yet handsome father looks on with pride and hope that she doesn't pick out Twilight. In that moment I was really happy and started thinking what the world of my child's will be in the book department. I can't wait to introduce my spawn to the world of books and overpriced coffee cafe's. Its the one thing I think I will not fail at as a father. Yet I also felt a pang of sadness thinking that she might not like to read. I think in my life I could accept that with love, but never with happiness. Sad to think about, but true. Reading, for me, created everything that I can say is categorically "me." And for her to not have that same drive....
Yet that is the future. And this is the now. And yesterday is the past. (Don't know why I put that last bit in, but I was on a chronological roll.)
So as I go forward into the next chapter (see what I did there) of my life I know that I will always love to watch movies, play video games, and write but I hope this drive to consume the written word continues to thrive. I will still buy every gaming console available and fill my media cabinet with the latest disc-based movie distribution because that's who I am. And I may ever transfer over completely to digital e-books as a source of material to feed my fix, but I hope that I never feel the day when I just say "Reading is stupid" or "Hand me that Twilight book."
Happy reading, everyone.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Didgeri-who?
Hello again.
Lately I have been wondering around different places looking for inspiration of any type. Something to just jump out and bite me in the left leg which will lead me on the road to riches and prosperity. So far nothing has taken a chunk out and I have been walking just fine. Yet on this quest I find myself drawn to a few routine areas. I find that I take in a great deal of reading in the corner of Barnes and Nobles. I have already expunged upon this in an earlier post so I won't go on in detail. The other place that draws me is the Downtown Disney shopping district. I know, I know; I travel far. Any-who, this is where I find myself wandering and wondering about everything under the sun. And what better place to do this than a busy tourist trap where live music plays and street performers perform (on the street).
I once read a blog from a friend of mine that described her thoughts as she left her employment with Disney. She had very good things to say, but something buried itself into my consciousness and set up a memory homestead. She said that in her time here she has met the hardest working entertainers in the world and most will never be remembered or famous. Now that line applies very much to those performing every night tirelessly as I stroll past. And up until now I have never taken the time to compliment these artisans for their work by the mere act of listening intently to them. I would just walk briskly to my destination and chalk up their unique sounds as just something for the non-residents. However I have changed that in great form.
Lately when I find myself at DTD (acronyms are fun) I stop and listen for a long time to each artist. In some cases I have become a regular at times cause I really enjoy the music they produce. The most interesting part is the uniqueness of each act. They all have something just a bit out of the ordinary that makes me look and/or listen in a different way.
In what ways are they unique you might ask? Well you don't have to cause I did it for you. Well the singularity in difference (like that?) that catches my auditory nerve can range from what type of instruments they use to what type of sounds those instruments produce. Whether it be a Spanish guitar playing a version of the Sesame Street theme song or an electric violin jamming some Black Eyed Peas; its all very interesting and fun. BTW (acronym!) the electric string instruments rule. They are basically just strings on a bridge with the outline of the rest of the wooden part to make the silhouette. Amazing modernization of a classical instrument. That would be their uniqueness.
Yet with all these fabulous performers there is one act that makes me chuckle and rock out in equal forms. And that is the rock and roll didgeridoo. Yep its just what you think. A double sided didgeridoo fully mic'd and filtered through an effects board. The artist plays this Australian goldmine of outback-ian sound (like that?) with a rock attitude and a masterful skill to boot. He also rocks a mean electric guitar while playing. Its just a bit off to really make you think and appreciate the talent. And the music composition is amazingly fun to listen or dance to.
I started this post saying how I am looking for inspiration. Now I wouldn't say that this ridiculous yet effective blending of modern technology with the classical/cultural elements has really inspired me in that respect. I don't plan on creating a steam-punk version of Shakespeare's Love's Labours Lost any time soon. (Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Idea copywritten to Fluke Entertainment.) However it does push me to think that anything can happen if you work hard and have that edge. Do something just a bit off that makes people want to listen or watch, but not run away from DaDaist brain drain. Anyone who knows what DaDa is goes to the head of the class.
So, if you can, go listen to the hard working artists in your areas. They deserve your attention and compliments. But most of all see what their uniqueness does for you in your search for inspiration. Also buy their cds once in a while. Peeps need to eat too.
Lately I have been wondering around different places looking for inspiration of any type. Something to just jump out and bite me in the left leg which will lead me on the road to riches and prosperity. So far nothing has taken a chunk out and I have been walking just fine. Yet on this quest I find myself drawn to a few routine areas. I find that I take in a great deal of reading in the corner of Barnes and Nobles. I have already expunged upon this in an earlier post so I won't go on in detail. The other place that draws me is the Downtown Disney shopping district. I know, I know; I travel far. Any-who, this is where I find myself wandering and wondering about everything under the sun. And what better place to do this than a busy tourist trap where live music plays and street performers perform (on the street).
I once read a blog from a friend of mine that described her thoughts as she left her employment with Disney. She had very good things to say, but something buried itself into my consciousness and set up a memory homestead. She said that in her time here she has met the hardest working entertainers in the world and most will never be remembered or famous. Now that line applies very much to those performing every night tirelessly as I stroll past. And up until now I have never taken the time to compliment these artisans for their work by the mere act of listening intently to them. I would just walk briskly to my destination and chalk up their unique sounds as just something for the non-residents. However I have changed that in great form.
Lately when I find myself at DTD (acronyms are fun) I stop and listen for a long time to each artist. In some cases I have become a regular at times cause I really enjoy the music they produce. The most interesting part is the uniqueness of each act. They all have something just a bit out of the ordinary that makes me look and/or listen in a different way.
In what ways are they unique you might ask? Well you don't have to cause I did it for you. Well the singularity in difference (like that?) that catches my auditory nerve can range from what type of instruments they use to what type of sounds those instruments produce. Whether it be a Spanish guitar playing a version of the Sesame Street theme song or an electric violin jamming some Black Eyed Peas; its all very interesting and fun. BTW (acronym!) the electric string instruments rule. They are basically just strings on a bridge with the outline of the rest of the wooden part to make the silhouette. Amazing modernization of a classical instrument. That would be their uniqueness.
Yet with all these fabulous performers there is one act that makes me chuckle and rock out in equal forms. And that is the rock and roll didgeridoo. Yep its just what you think. A double sided didgeridoo fully mic'd and filtered through an effects board. The artist plays this Australian goldmine of outback-ian sound (like that?) with a rock attitude and a masterful skill to boot. He also rocks a mean electric guitar while playing. Its just a bit off to really make you think and appreciate the talent. And the music composition is amazingly fun to listen or dance to.
I started this post saying how I am looking for inspiration. Now I wouldn't say that this ridiculous yet effective blending of modern technology with the classical/cultural elements has really inspired me in that respect. I don't plan on creating a steam-punk version of Shakespeare's Love's Labours Lost any time soon. (Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Idea copywritten to Fluke Entertainment.) However it does push me to think that anything can happen if you work hard and have that edge. Do something just a bit off that makes people want to listen or watch, but not run away from DaDaist brain drain. Anyone who knows what DaDa is goes to the head of the class.
So, if you can, go listen to the hard working artists in your areas. They deserve your attention and compliments. But most of all see what their uniqueness does for you in your search for inspiration. Also buy their cds once in a while. Peeps need to eat too.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sexpresso
Disclaimer: The title of this entry is taken from a news story. I didn't come up with it.
So I was listening to my regular radio show (Philips Phille on Real Radio 104.1. I like talk radio, sue me) when they cut to the news portion. In amongst the usual fluff stories there was one that caught my attention. Not for its fast-breaking, life-changing, news-worthiness, but for the ridiculousness in its subject. It appears that in one state a group of lawmakers, in their quest to save us all from the evils of life, have tried to subjugate an "adult only" policy for a coffee stand.
That's right. A java counter had the audacity to put beautiful women in scantily clad garb as their barristas. Now I don't understand why this would be a prerequisite for selling coffee, yet I think its a pretty good marketing ploy. Whether we admit it or not, sex will always sell....coffee. And I applaud any 'Sexy Starbucks' corporation that feels it has to go this route in order to compete. As long as the girls don't burn themselves with the carafes I am for anything that gets a customer in a store.
However that is not what really got me thinking. It was that the lawmakers were trying to ban this one certain company for the use of it cause it would bring about a lower morale value to the world. And there is where I don't concur.
Modern society is at a dichotomy with itself. On one side people want the Norman Rockwell view of life where everything is perfect and just uttering the word "kissing" could get you scorned in the town square with a giant scarlet "A" placed upon your person. And upon the other side we have Hooters; Tilted Kilt; Show-Me's; Gazzongas; Treasure Tavern; Peckers; McDonalds. (Okay, so Micky D's isn't one of these flesh-raunts, but I guy can hope.) Yet we don't seem to mind that these places exist. In fact we take our children and grandparents to them to have a good ole family night out with some exciting new entertainment.
I am a straight male of age. I will not try to perpetrate a lie that I have never frequented these places. Cause I have. Multiple times. That's not to say I am a regular, but I have been inside and find them harmless. I don't find it offensive, oppressive, ornamental, or degrading to the women (and men) who work at these places to do what they are told. Its just a food joint when you look at it from a logical point of view. And its not like the employees don't know what they are getting themselves into when they collect their checks.
Seeing bare flesh is a common occurrence today. The beach is filled with people just waiting to de-robe and show off what they got. In some cases I wish they wouldn't until they have spent some time in a gym, but who am I to talk. I am a pasty white man who, no matter how many miles I run on my treadmill, can't seem to get rid of my one love handle. And if you walk around that beach for about 47 seconds you have already seen less clothing on a person than any of these companies require of their staff. These flesh-raunts are actually quite tame when you look at it that way.
So these lawmakers really got under my skin trying to equate a coffee shop with the porn room in the back of a Family Video. To them it was obscene and grotesque and I should be carded in order to order a cup a joe. How dare I need my caffeine in the morning. I would suggest they focus on upholding the rules that don't seem counterproductive to a society that has already conceded that we can handle places where women and men wear something slightly provocative to entice a certain clientele to give them better tips.
In conclusion I hope we all can just stop thinking about what the server is wearing and order grandma and the kids some chicken wings. Cause they are really good in some Honey Mustard.
So I was listening to my regular radio show (Philips Phille on Real Radio 104.1. I like talk radio, sue me) when they cut to the news portion. In amongst the usual fluff stories there was one that caught my attention. Not for its fast-breaking, life-changing, news-worthiness, but for the ridiculousness in its subject. It appears that in one state a group of lawmakers, in their quest to save us all from the evils of life, have tried to subjugate an "adult only" policy for a coffee stand.
That's right. A java counter had the audacity to put beautiful women in scantily clad garb as their barristas. Now I don't understand why this would be a prerequisite for selling coffee, yet I think its a pretty good marketing ploy. Whether we admit it or not, sex will always sell....coffee. And I applaud any 'Sexy Starbucks' corporation that feels it has to go this route in order to compete. As long as the girls don't burn themselves with the carafes I am for anything that gets a customer in a store.
However that is not what really got me thinking. It was that the lawmakers were trying to ban this one certain company for the use of it cause it would bring about a lower morale value to the world. And there is where I don't concur.
Modern society is at a dichotomy with itself. On one side people want the Norman Rockwell view of life where everything is perfect and just uttering the word "kissing" could get you scorned in the town square with a giant scarlet "A" placed upon your person. And upon the other side we have Hooters; Tilted Kilt; Show-Me's; Gazzongas; Treasure Tavern; Peckers; McDonalds. (Okay, so Micky D's isn't one of these flesh-raunts, but I guy can hope.) Yet we don't seem to mind that these places exist. In fact we take our children and grandparents to them to have a good ole family night out with some exciting new entertainment.
I am a straight male of age. I will not try to perpetrate a lie that I have never frequented these places. Cause I have. Multiple times. That's not to say I am a regular, but I have been inside and find them harmless. I don't find it offensive, oppressive, ornamental, or degrading to the women (and men) who work at these places to do what they are told. Its just a food joint when you look at it from a logical point of view. And its not like the employees don't know what they are getting themselves into when they collect their checks.
Seeing bare flesh is a common occurrence today. The beach is filled with people just waiting to de-robe and show off what they got. In some cases I wish they wouldn't until they have spent some time in a gym, but who am I to talk. I am a pasty white man who, no matter how many miles I run on my treadmill, can't seem to get rid of my one love handle. And if you walk around that beach for about 47 seconds you have already seen less clothing on a person than any of these companies require of their staff. These flesh-raunts are actually quite tame when you look at it that way.
So these lawmakers really got under my skin trying to equate a coffee shop with the porn room in the back of a Family Video. To them it was obscene and grotesque and I should be carded in order to order a cup a joe. How dare I need my caffeine in the morning. I would suggest they focus on upholding the rules that don't seem counterproductive to a society that has already conceded that we can handle places where women and men wear something slightly provocative to entice a certain clientele to give them better tips.
In conclusion I hope we all can just stop thinking about what the server is wearing and order grandma and the kids some chicken wings. Cause they are really good in some Honey Mustard.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Nookypants
For the past few days I have found myself drawn to my fav bookstore, Barnes and Noble, as a place to unwind and read and get away from the mundane of my housing situation. (More on that at a later date.) I usually set up shop on a bench near a window out of the way by the less traveled magazine section onlooking the Crafting aisle. My staple sustenance in this experiment of public leisure is trending to be a Grande Caramel Frap w/ extra whip as whipped cream is one of my main weaknesses (along with redheads). Drink in hand I sit with my newly purchased Nook and start to read/ research a book I am trying to get started. However something else took my attention this time.
An interesting feature of my Nook, actually everyone's Nook not just mine, is that if you are connected to the B&N wifi network you can read any book in the store for an hour at a time for free. Well I am always up for anything free and since I was in the store I decided to see what was on the table that might interest me. I pulled up the menu and near the top was a selection entitled Bossypants by SNL alumn Tina Fey. I stopped for a just a second and then decided to move on to something else because I have never been a major fan of Ms. Fey. I liked her on SNL Weekend Update, but I have never watched an episode of 30 Rock and figured this book would just be about the show. You know, some backstage politics and stresses of continuing a popular show; or a look into the tragic life that one person had to pull themselves out of adversity to shine in today's entertainment world.
But then my finger hit the "read" button as it was passing the touch screen. The tome loaded and instantly upon my small screen read a passage that got me hooked into the humor of the book. I will not expunge upon that phrase as it doesn't pertain to what I want to talk about, but I highly suggest you go out and read this book. It starts out extremely funny and just keeps going. Self-referential and effacing. Love it.
Yet back to the point. As I was reading the book I can across a part where Ms. Fey reminisces about doing research for a screenplay and going to a workshop for women empowerment. As you can imagine this part of the biography really related to me. Anywho, in this seminar the speaker asked Ms. Fey and the others to write when they first knew that they had become woman. Not little girls, but women, as it would help them to realize what life had in store for them. Fey goes off to make jokes about this, but I stayed with it for a few minutes.
I can't remember the first time I really felt like a woman and I am sort of okay with that. I hope I can never pinpoint that aspect of my life. However I reversed the question and challenged myself to figure out when the first time in my life I have felt like a man. And here is where my brain shut down for a few loading screens.
In the annuls of my brain I searched high and low for that one definining moment when I trasitioned from boy to man. Was it the natural time of puberty? Or the first time I kissed a girl? Or perhaps it was at that moment when I belched louder than the sound barrier? All important moments in the growning life of a young boy yet none of them felt like the moment when I made the leap. Which then got me to wonder what if I never truly made the metamorphosis? Maybe I just transitioned from boy to slightly taller boy.
Strange part about this revelation? I am totally fine with it. I don't think I have ever wanted to be a man. Sure I would like to be thought of as a man in some certain occasions, yet on the whole I like being a child. Its the only thing that keeps me from going absolutely batshit insane when I have to deal with all the things that grown-ups do. I can honestly say that I have never been prepared for this. Not that people and family didn't try to teach me these things; I just didn't show up for class on those days. I am sure I was playing a video game that didn't have a save point.
And that right there is why I like being a child. Video games, Disney movies, The Muppets, Yo-yos. All these things are categorized as "child's" things (even though they have been embraced by older kids which negates my total argument, but lets not go into that right now) and I feel that is wrong. How can anything that one loves and feels truly defines them be placed into a certain period of time? If you love something then love it no matter what age groups it says on the side of the box.
End of stream-of-conscious rant which that last paragraph became. Its just that I really like the idea of not growing up and conforming to that "man" idea. Its more fun to act silly and be innocent of some things and be carefree. Its just that most times life doesn't let you be a child. Which is fine too, but I wish it would let somethings be completely adolescent for its own good. So I hope you, like me, ask yourself the question "When did you first feel like a man/woman?" and come up with an answer of Not Applicable.
Oh and buy a Nook. They are fun....and small. :)
An interesting feature of my Nook, actually everyone's Nook not just mine, is that if you are connected to the B&N wifi network you can read any book in the store for an hour at a time for free. Well I am always up for anything free and since I was in the store I decided to see what was on the table that might interest me. I pulled up the menu and near the top was a selection entitled Bossypants by SNL alumn Tina Fey. I stopped for a just a second and then decided to move on to something else because I have never been a major fan of Ms. Fey. I liked her on SNL Weekend Update, but I have never watched an episode of 30 Rock and figured this book would just be about the show. You know, some backstage politics and stresses of continuing a popular show; or a look into the tragic life that one person had to pull themselves out of adversity to shine in today's entertainment world.
But then my finger hit the "read" button as it was passing the touch screen. The tome loaded and instantly upon my small screen read a passage that got me hooked into the humor of the book. I will not expunge upon that phrase as it doesn't pertain to what I want to talk about, but I highly suggest you go out and read this book. It starts out extremely funny and just keeps going. Self-referential and effacing. Love it.
Yet back to the point. As I was reading the book I can across a part where Ms. Fey reminisces about doing research for a screenplay and going to a workshop for women empowerment. As you can imagine this part of the biography really related to me. Anywho, in this seminar the speaker asked Ms. Fey and the others to write when they first knew that they had become woman. Not little girls, but women, as it would help them to realize what life had in store for them. Fey goes off to make jokes about this, but I stayed with it for a few minutes.
I can't remember the first time I really felt like a woman and I am sort of okay with that. I hope I can never pinpoint that aspect of my life. However I reversed the question and challenged myself to figure out when the first time in my life I have felt like a man. And here is where my brain shut down for a few loading screens.
In the annuls of my brain I searched high and low for that one definining moment when I trasitioned from boy to man. Was it the natural time of puberty? Or the first time I kissed a girl? Or perhaps it was at that moment when I belched louder than the sound barrier? All important moments in the growning life of a young boy yet none of them felt like the moment when I made the leap. Which then got me to wonder what if I never truly made the metamorphosis? Maybe I just transitioned from boy to slightly taller boy.
Strange part about this revelation? I am totally fine with it. I don't think I have ever wanted to be a man. Sure I would like to be thought of as a man in some certain occasions, yet on the whole I like being a child. Its the only thing that keeps me from going absolutely batshit insane when I have to deal with all the things that grown-ups do. I can honestly say that I have never been prepared for this. Not that people and family didn't try to teach me these things; I just didn't show up for class on those days. I am sure I was playing a video game that didn't have a save point.
And that right there is why I like being a child. Video games, Disney movies, The Muppets, Yo-yos. All these things are categorized as "child's" things (even though they have been embraced by older kids which negates my total argument, but lets not go into that right now) and I feel that is wrong. How can anything that one loves and feels truly defines them be placed into a certain period of time? If you love something then love it no matter what age groups it says on the side of the box.
End of stream-of-conscious rant which that last paragraph became. Its just that I really like the idea of not growing up and conforming to that "man" idea. Its more fun to act silly and be innocent of some things and be carefree. Its just that most times life doesn't let you be a child. Which is fine too, but I wish it would let somethings be completely adolescent for its own good. So I hope you, like me, ask yourself the question "When did you first feel like a man/woman?" and come up with an answer of Not Applicable.
Oh and buy a Nook. They are fun....and small. :)
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Babies and......ehhhhh...me
Another night.
Another night at home where I really want to be, and another night closer to my return to life as usual. Not too excited about that. But oh well. Thought I would come sit out on the porch and write down my thoughts before I go spend some time with the family. By the way I really do cherish the weather at nights around here. Its so peaceful and cool. A nice breeze sweeps through my yard pushing the glowing fireflys around like ripples on the water. The sound of a very muffled conversation from the neighbors open window is the only sound one can here. (That is until the baby inside wakes from her slight slumber.)
Speaking of babies I have a confession to make here. Its an opinion of mine that has, in times, gotten me on the wrong side of some of my more paternally inclined friends. I am not a fan of babies as a general rule. But lets get something straight I like kids and hopefully one day would love to have a daughter or two of my own, yet as for the time of newborn through infant I have never been a fan.
I think it stems from my love of singularity. I love being around people, but usually people who share my desire for peace and serenity. There are times when life is just perfect when you shut down all your senses to the noise and descend into an abyss of nothingness and quiet. Babies, in general, don't descend into anything except loudness and uncomfortability. Before you start judging me I am fully aware of the reasoning behind the crying and loudness of babies. All that aside it doesn't mean I am genetically coded to be a fan.
Now having said that I must now contradict myself in one simple aspect. And that simple aspect's name is Annastasia Marie. My niece. Yes, thats correct, my one prejudice into this forray is also my bias. As a newborn I would still state my previous idea with all certainty, but now that she is a little bit older I have to amend it.
Its funny how a small personality trait such as a smile can change your whole view on a situation. When I see this little baby smile it makes me feel like the funniest person in the world. Her eyes pierce into my heart as she looks at the strange man that holds her. And even though its completely gross her slobbering all over my thumb trying to use it as a teether is just fine by me.
There are still times that I apply my aversion to babies to my little kinswoman. And those times are when things come out. I have had my first test as a matter of distributing food to the young one, but I refuse to clean up the aftermath of such food. That's what mommy and grand-mommy are for. Or daddy, cause even though I would bet against it everyday, he is fantastic with her. My brother has taken on the role of father with gusto and an enthusiasm that I never in all my days have seen come from him. Kinda heroic and inspirational to his younger sibling I must say.
Whoops, the peaceful joy that was my back porch has now be disturbed by said little one's squeal. At least I know that that means she is happy and recently fed. Now comes time for play with Uncle. At least until digestion has finished. So I will say adieu to you for now. Till next time.
Another night at home where I really want to be, and another night closer to my return to life as usual. Not too excited about that. But oh well. Thought I would come sit out on the porch and write down my thoughts before I go spend some time with the family. By the way I really do cherish the weather at nights around here. Its so peaceful and cool. A nice breeze sweeps through my yard pushing the glowing fireflys around like ripples on the water. The sound of a very muffled conversation from the neighbors open window is the only sound one can here. (That is until the baby inside wakes from her slight slumber.)
Speaking of babies I have a confession to make here. Its an opinion of mine that has, in times, gotten me on the wrong side of some of my more paternally inclined friends. I am not a fan of babies as a general rule. But lets get something straight I like kids and hopefully one day would love to have a daughter or two of my own, yet as for the time of newborn through infant I have never been a fan.
I think it stems from my love of singularity. I love being around people, but usually people who share my desire for peace and serenity. There are times when life is just perfect when you shut down all your senses to the noise and descend into an abyss of nothingness and quiet. Babies, in general, don't descend into anything except loudness and uncomfortability. Before you start judging me I am fully aware of the reasoning behind the crying and loudness of babies. All that aside it doesn't mean I am genetically coded to be a fan.
Now having said that I must now contradict myself in one simple aspect. And that simple aspect's name is Annastasia Marie. My niece. Yes, thats correct, my one prejudice into this forray is also my bias. As a newborn I would still state my previous idea with all certainty, but now that she is a little bit older I have to amend it.
Its funny how a small personality trait such as a smile can change your whole view on a situation. When I see this little baby smile it makes me feel like the funniest person in the world. Her eyes pierce into my heart as she looks at the strange man that holds her. And even though its completely gross her slobbering all over my thumb trying to use it as a teether is just fine by me.
There are still times that I apply my aversion to babies to my little kinswoman. And those times are when things come out. I have had my first test as a matter of distributing food to the young one, but I refuse to clean up the aftermath of such food. That's what mommy and grand-mommy are for. Or daddy, cause even though I would bet against it everyday, he is fantastic with her. My brother has taken on the role of father with gusto and an enthusiasm that I never in all my days have seen come from him. Kinda heroic and inspirational to his younger sibling I must say.
Whoops, the peaceful joy that was my back porch has now be disturbed by said little one's squeal. At least I know that that means she is happy and recently fed. Now comes time for play with Uncle. At least until digestion has finished. So I will say adieu to you for now. Till next time.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Home
Hello there.
So I am trying a new tactic for this blog. At first it started out as something to write my opinions down on for sarcastic and (hopefully) comedic purposes. Hence the title. Yet that lasted a whole two posts as I realized that I really didn't have any observations to make fun of on a regular basis. Don't get me wrong I see plenty of things daily to make light of, but I am just lazy to jot them down for a blog post. So I decided to take a different path with it. Inspired by my friend Alice's blog I decided to just make it weekly and talk about one thing that is important to me. Hopefully I will still bring clever observations and humor to it, but I will not have to strain myself to do it. So here goes a second try.
Actually I am writing this post while sitting on a bed in my parent's home in the middle of the night. I decided to come "home" for a week just cause I had the time and no other plans were coming to fruition. I know that sounds like a lame excuse and that I only came "home" cause there was nothing better. That's the truth. In some form.
I was hoping that I would spend this time away from work looking at a prospective new job or city or whatever during this time. Yet due to my extreme procrastination I had not one appointment for an interview lined up nor any lodging plans. So "home" it is. Where the bed is always free and appointments are drop-ins only.
Its no secret that I don't like where my situation has kept me. Don't get me wrong the experiences I have had; the people I have met; and the world that I have explored will always be precious to me. Its just that I don't like where my life is right now. I miss doing what I truly am good at and love to do and I miss those people who love me the most being there to see me do those things. Basically I miss "home". When I come "home" I usually spend the majority of the time being the most boring person imaginable. I laze around the house watching tv and wasting time on Facebook. Or I watch tv and waste time playing video games. Or I watch tv and waste time sleeping. (Beginning to see a pattern here.) Yet never once do I think to myself that I would like to be anywhere else. Cause here I am allowed to be and do all those things without any reservations. Here I am allowed to not do anything. And that is nice.
Whenever I head "home" I never tell any of my friends of the past that I will be in the area. Its not that I don't like them or want to see them, its just that I don't want to schedule my life. Sounds strange I know, but I kinda like the idea of doing what I want when I want. Thus it leads to many nights alone and some feelings hurt when I do finally contact them to say I am in town as I didn't give fair warning. Yet I do like to stop in on my friends unannounced; usually at their places of business. But every now and then I spend a little time with a long time friend which really puts the idea of "home" in my head. Its not just a building that I grew up in, but a conglomeration of people, experiences, and memories. That's "home."
And its the only place I want to be right now. A place where laziness rules. Where walks late at night can be taken without fear of the things that go bump in the night. Where people will be around to be surprised. Where I can sit out on the porch listening to wind chimes ringing out the breeze very much like it did in my younger days. And where the squeals of the newest family member call out through the house and are heard not as an annoyance, but as a blessing upon the ears. If I could have any wish right now in my life it would be to make "home" my Home.
So I am trying a new tactic for this blog. At first it started out as something to write my opinions down on for sarcastic and (hopefully) comedic purposes. Hence the title. Yet that lasted a whole two posts as I realized that I really didn't have any observations to make fun of on a regular basis. Don't get me wrong I see plenty of things daily to make light of, but I am just lazy to jot them down for a blog post. So I decided to take a different path with it. Inspired by my friend Alice's blog I decided to just make it weekly and talk about one thing that is important to me. Hopefully I will still bring clever observations and humor to it, but I will not have to strain myself to do it. So here goes a second try.
Actually I am writing this post while sitting on a bed in my parent's home in the middle of the night. I decided to come "home" for a week just cause I had the time and no other plans were coming to fruition. I know that sounds like a lame excuse and that I only came "home" cause there was nothing better. That's the truth. In some form.
I was hoping that I would spend this time away from work looking at a prospective new job or city or whatever during this time. Yet due to my extreme procrastination I had not one appointment for an interview lined up nor any lodging plans. So "home" it is. Where the bed is always free and appointments are drop-ins only.
Its no secret that I don't like where my situation has kept me. Don't get me wrong the experiences I have had; the people I have met; and the world that I have explored will always be precious to me. Its just that I don't like where my life is right now. I miss doing what I truly am good at and love to do and I miss those people who love me the most being there to see me do those things. Basically I miss "home". When I come "home" I usually spend the majority of the time being the most boring person imaginable. I laze around the house watching tv and wasting time on Facebook. Or I watch tv and waste time playing video games. Or I watch tv and waste time sleeping. (Beginning to see a pattern here.) Yet never once do I think to myself that I would like to be anywhere else. Cause here I am allowed to be and do all those things without any reservations. Here I am allowed to not do anything. And that is nice.
Whenever I head "home" I never tell any of my friends of the past that I will be in the area. Its not that I don't like them or want to see them, its just that I don't want to schedule my life. Sounds strange I know, but I kinda like the idea of doing what I want when I want. Thus it leads to many nights alone and some feelings hurt when I do finally contact them to say I am in town as I didn't give fair warning. Yet I do like to stop in on my friends unannounced; usually at their places of business. But every now and then I spend a little time with a long time friend which really puts the idea of "home" in my head. Its not just a building that I grew up in, but a conglomeration of people, experiences, and memories. That's "home."
And its the only place I want to be right now. A place where laziness rules. Where walks late at night can be taken without fear of the things that go bump in the night. Where people will be around to be surprised. Where I can sit out on the porch listening to wind chimes ringing out the breeze very much like it did in my younger days. And where the squeals of the newest family member call out through the house and are heard not as an annoyance, but as a blessing upon the ears. If I could have any wish right now in my life it would be to make "home" my Home.
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