I refuse to talk about the fact that Christmas decorations are popping up in places pre-Thanksgiving. There should be a law.
I will not discuss the newly stocked isles at the grocery stores (yes, all of them) with wrapping paper, tinsel, and candy canes. I noticed them even before Halloween. Next year, I might go trick-or-treating/partying as Santa Claus. Talk about an evil costume. There should be a law.
I drove by a house on my block and the owner was hanging twinkle lights already. There should be a law. And another one about taking them down before, say, Independence Day.
Unless there happens to be some new way to roast a turkey I haven’t heard about, I will not crack the pages of the recently received cooking magazines on my coffee table as they are promoting Christmas over Thanksgiving (THE BEST holiday of the year). In fact, I believe the favored recipe for turkey is to simply place the bird in the oven until done. Seriously! That is it. No recipe needed. Ok, maybe I’ll brine it overnight and rub a stick of butter into the skin first. But, I won’t have Christmas recipes trump my Thanksgiving. There should be a law.
I’m currently listening to CDs or sports radio to avoid ANY accidental December oriented tuneage from music stations. There should be a law.
I have, however, purchased my first Christmas present of the year. I’ll give latitude on that one.
But on Friday, November 27th, bring it on! Until then, there should be a law.
11.12.2009
11.05.2009
10.22.2009
The Right Thing About 3 a.m.
Blogging has been good for me and I claim no journalistic ideals for the future (aka. I have no book deal, I promise). I never did the serious journal thing before and in no way had a diary outside of a sketchbook. The closest thing I ever had to a journal was when a junior high school friend and I bought “little black books” at a stationary store to keep the names of girls and phone numbers and “stars/rankings/notes”. You know that little black book I’m talking about. The Fonz had one. Only, our meager thumbs up rankings never really amounted to much and the pages stayed all too blank. Although, I do recall one or two memorable names (not to be repeated here as Facebook has so wonderfully put us back in touch after all these years and that just wouldn’t be right).
Yes, blogging for me is pleasurable, albeit a bit of a process. EHTT puts me in a daily, if not hourly, state of inner search for something interesting and creative. The enjoyable part goes away, though, when I find myself in that sleepless hour of self evaluation at a sky-divingesque, X-Games sort of level. These are the wee moments when I’m convinced blogging is less than productive to my welfare. Being emotionally authentic might also be damaging to my sleep patterns at times.
The space between my head and my heart is not for casual play. It is where I seek what is right and good. It is where therapy happens. But it is also where artistic expression can find a voice in the night. It is where conception of an image for a painting or a line of a poem is worked out. It is where the details of a household construction project find solutions. It is where I remember the name of that song in my head and how it would segue so beautifully with that Arcade Fire song both musically and thematically (some d.j. habits die hard). And it is where I write, at times sans keyboard.
Sometime last year, I scoffed at the accusation that I held an innate inability to be alone. It was referenced in the context of a now dead marriage and, at the time, a dating life. It was intended to be a derogatory cut at my being and stated purely to hurt me. It was meant to make me rethink a new, wonderful, and hopefully, lifelong relationship. So, I ignored the comment. I have and still claim a life not of solitude. Instead, I choose people.
As for being alone, I crave the creative juice flowing moments that one can experience only in pursuit of art. And that kind of quality time is precious. Unfortunately, it is also just as hard to schedule. But when the opportunity presents itself, I am all over it.
Now, I readily admit, I tend to concentrate hardest on that which is directly in front of me and lack the enviable ability to multi-task on other things when creating/writing/constructing/etc. For example, I don’t cook dinner and watch Monday Night Football with much speed either, especially during the weeks when the kids are in the house. So, when given time to myself, I had best be organized because I will dive into a project and not look up, maybe for days. And when that happens projects might just linger in unfinished land (and I Hate unfinished land).
For me, the process of sorting through the shreds of information between head and heart is vital, if not mandatory, for the self. Though, it is rarely swift. I am not much of a loner and I have built my life around the people I love and care about deeply. Should they have me, they are a part of my life forever. So, when I withdraw in search of creative isolation, I unintentionally alienate and leave those I love to question whether my allegiance to them is at risk. And, I can’t have that. For that, I apologize.
So, what do I do?
Yes, blogging for me is pleasurable, albeit a bit of a process. EHTT puts me in a daily, if not hourly, state of inner search for something interesting and creative. The enjoyable part goes away, though, when I find myself in that sleepless hour of self evaluation at a sky-divingesque, X-Games sort of level. These are the wee moments when I’m convinced blogging is less than productive to my welfare. Being emotionally authentic might also be damaging to my sleep patterns at times.
The space between my head and my heart is not for casual play. It is where I seek what is right and good. It is where therapy happens. But it is also where artistic expression can find a voice in the night. It is where conception of an image for a painting or a line of a poem is worked out. It is where the details of a household construction project find solutions. It is where I remember the name of that song in my head and how it would segue so beautifully with that Arcade Fire song both musically and thematically (some d.j. habits die hard). And it is where I write, at times sans keyboard.
Sometime last year, I scoffed at the accusation that I held an innate inability to be alone. It was referenced in the context of a now dead marriage and, at the time, a dating life. It was intended to be a derogatory cut at my being and stated purely to hurt me. It was meant to make me rethink a new, wonderful, and hopefully, lifelong relationship. So, I ignored the comment. I have and still claim a life not of solitude. Instead, I choose people.
As for being alone, I crave the creative juice flowing moments that one can experience only in pursuit of art. And that kind of quality time is precious. Unfortunately, it is also just as hard to schedule. But when the opportunity presents itself, I am all over it.
Now, I readily admit, I tend to concentrate hardest on that which is directly in front of me and lack the enviable ability to multi-task on other things when creating/writing/constructing/etc. For example, I don’t cook dinner and watch Monday Night Football with much speed either, especially during the weeks when the kids are in the house. So, when given time to myself, I had best be organized because I will dive into a project and not look up, maybe for days. And when that happens projects might just linger in unfinished land (and I Hate unfinished land).
For me, the process of sorting through the shreds of information between head and heart is vital, if not mandatory, for the self. Though, it is rarely swift. I am not much of a loner and I have built my life around the people I love and care about deeply. Should they have me, they are a part of my life forever. So, when I withdraw in search of creative isolation, I unintentionally alienate and leave those I love to question whether my allegiance to them is at risk. And, I can’t have that. For that, I apologize.
So, what do I do?
The Fonz: Cool is knowing the difference between right and wrong and doing what is right with guts.Well, I sort through it all and do the right thing. I paint in between laundry loads while waiting for the plumber to show. I cook, facilitate homework and baths, and play with PhotoShop all at the same time, doing none of them well, I fear. I make my lover mix-tapes (CDs) while doing some on-line bill paying. And, I blog in the middle of the night to connect some random dots between head and heart.
10.12.2009
Thumper said, “If you can't say something nice ... don't say nothing at all.”
I haven’t blogged in a long time. Sorry. I’ve found some enjoyment in ignoring the on button to my laptop. Facebook can do that to a person. It is a love/hate thing, I think. That and something like 550 unopened emails.
Plus, this is the all important birthday month for the kids and me. Oh, and I’m now engaged. So, yeah! I’ve had a lot of things worth documenting and denoting the date. But I haven’t felt like blogging ‘em to the world. Quite honestly, because things are all “Even Happier Than That” right now, I’m rather boring to you, I fear.
But the most prominent excuse for not blogging is I’ve spent much more time listening. I have been sort of eaves dropping in on the world and it is a lot more fun sometimes than trying to come up with something to write about. You all have a lot going on.
Though sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the talk in the grocery store line and around the water cooler is simply passing judgment on others. No new ideas to report. No success stories of encouragement to reveal. And that is bothersome, really. People talk constantly about what friends are doing with a mighty tinge of harsh verdict laced within. It’s not as if I’ve been oblivious to gossip and am just now learning the term. It’s just that it is all so negative. And I’ve had enough with negative.
Bertrand Russell once said, “No one gossips about other people’s secret virtues.” Listen around and you’ll hear that is unequivocally true. It is much more fun to talk about the scandal or even the minor blemishes over the successes and daily joys. Pay it forward was a fun, one-time movie theme, but it isn’t as much fun as the daily drama and sorrow of an acquaintance or friend. None of it would carry any weight if we all didn’t want to believe in it to make ourselves feel a bit better “just knowing”. It probably isn’t even true, maybe a half-truth, but we act like it is a fact.
Never the less, you might read more from me now as I try hard to stop listening to the gossip and get a better grip on new ideas and thoughts.
Plus, this is the all important birthday month for the kids and me. Oh, and I’m now engaged. So, yeah! I’ve had a lot of things worth documenting and denoting the date. But I haven’t felt like blogging ‘em to the world. Quite honestly, because things are all “Even Happier Than That” right now, I’m rather boring to you, I fear.
But the most prominent excuse for not blogging is I’ve spent much more time listening. I have been sort of eaves dropping in on the world and it is a lot more fun sometimes than trying to come up with something to write about. You all have a lot going on.
Though sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the talk in the grocery store line and around the water cooler is simply passing judgment on others. No new ideas to report. No success stories of encouragement to reveal. And that is bothersome, really. People talk constantly about what friends are doing with a mighty tinge of harsh verdict laced within. It’s not as if I’ve been oblivious to gossip and am just now learning the term. It’s just that it is all so negative. And I’ve had enough with negative.
Bertrand Russell once said, “No one gossips about other people’s secret virtues.” Listen around and you’ll hear that is unequivocally true. It is much more fun to talk about the scandal or even the minor blemishes over the successes and daily joys. Pay it forward was a fun, one-time movie theme, but it isn’t as much fun as the daily drama and sorrow of an acquaintance or friend. None of it would carry any weight if we all didn’t want to believe in it to make ourselves feel a bit better “just knowing”. It probably isn’t even true, maybe a half-truth, but we act like it is a fact.
There is a lust in man no charm can tame,In all of that, I take one exception. Facebook. FB is sort of a personal public relations site where one propagates one’s good stuffs. Why would one want to air dirty laundry on purpose when you get so much more drama talking trash?
Of loudly publishing his neighbor’s shame,
On eagles wings immortal scandals fly,
While virtuous actions are born and die.
- William Harvey
Never the less, you might read more from me now as I try hard to stop listening to the gossip and get a better grip on new ideas and thoughts.
C'mon. Breathe, blog, BREATHE! Don't you die now. Not now!
beep
beep
beep
beep
beep
beep
beep
7.19.2009
Random Songs on the iPod
How to play...
(1) Turn on your iPod or Zune. (2) Go to SHUFFLE songs mode. (3) Write down the first 25 songs that come up--song title and artist--NO editing/cheating, please. (4) Choose 25 (or so) people to be tagged
(To do this, go to "NOTES" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, enter your 25 Shuffle Songs, Click 'Preview' below to tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click Publish, the little blue box at the bottom of your screen).
Here's the 25 that sloshed out of my iPod...
1. Put Down the Gun - Peter Case
2. Breed - Nirvana
3. Black & White - Three Dog Night
4. Train - Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise
5. Low Millions - Low Millions
6. Walcott - Vampire Weekend
7. Fire - The Ohio Players
8. You Are - Screamin' Cheetah Wheelies
9. Wide Open - Minibar
10. I've Done Nothing Wrong - Monte Montgomery
11. What I think She Sees - del amitri
12. Bach: Christmas Oratorio, BWV 248 - Sinfonia - Ralf Otto: Concerto Koln
13. Still - Matt Nathanson
14. Program Director - O.A.R.
15. The New Love Song - Joshua James
16. Night Drive - The All-American Rejects
17. Blue in Green - John McLaughlin Trio
18. Stag-o-Lee - Professor Longhair
19. Honey Let Me Sing You a Song - Matt Hires
20. The Silence Between Us - Bob Mould
21. The Night Inside Me (Solo Acoustic) - Jackson Browne
22. Gravity - Josh Joplin Group
23. Somehow, Someday - Ryan Adams
24. See the World - The Kooks
25. I Wish I Was in New Orleans - Tom Waits
(1) Turn on your iPod or Zune. (2) Go to SHUFFLE songs mode. (3) Write down the first 25 songs that come up--song title and artist--NO editing/cheating, please. (4) Choose 25 (or so) people to be tagged
(To do this, go to "NOTES" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, enter your 25 Shuffle Songs, Click 'Preview' below to tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click Publish, the little blue box at the bottom of your screen).
Here's the 25 that sloshed out of my iPod...
1. Put Down the Gun - Peter Case
2. Breed - Nirvana
3. Black & White - Three Dog Night
4. Train - Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise
5. Low Millions - Low Millions
6. Walcott - Vampire Weekend
7. Fire - The Ohio Players
8. You Are - Screamin' Cheetah Wheelies
9. Wide Open - Minibar
10. I've Done Nothing Wrong - Monte Montgomery
11. What I think She Sees - del amitri
12. Bach: Christmas Oratorio, BWV 248 - Sinfonia - Ralf Otto: Concerto Koln
13. Still - Matt Nathanson
14. Program Director - O.A.R.
15. The New Love Song - Joshua James
16. Night Drive - The All-American Rejects
17. Blue in Green - John McLaughlin Trio
18. Stag-o-Lee - Professor Longhair
19. Honey Let Me Sing You a Song - Matt Hires
20. The Silence Between Us - Bob Mould
21. The Night Inside Me (Solo Acoustic) - Jackson Browne
22. Gravity - Josh Joplin Group
23. Somehow, Someday - Ryan Adams
24. See the World - The Kooks
25. I Wish I Was in New Orleans - Tom Waits
7.08.2009
Lunch - A Mission
Start date 070809. Noon. Captain’s Log ... A signal from deep within... A grumbling... We must find sustenance quickly. A Sub planet has been located. I’ve have formed an expedition of one and beamed down with a small, silver transport. There is little time...
“Status report, Mr. Sulu”
“Aye, Captain. There seems to be others joining us in the search at this time. All passages are seriously congested.”
“Thank you, Sulu. Let us hope we get through the line quickly. I have the landing coordinates pinpointed. I shall be there soon. Perform another wider scan, Mr. Sulu.”
“Scanning, Sir. Seems congestion is at the far end of the lot. Not your Sub destination, Sir.”
“Let’s keep the communicator at the ready, Uhura. Given the short time we have, we may need to switch destinations.”
“Frequency open, Sir.”
“Captain,” interjects Mr. Spock.
“Yes, Spock, proceed.”
“I am detecting an unusual vehicle proceeding through the north end of the lot. It seems to be some form of white and red shuttle service. Life forms appear elderly and slow.”
“That could inhibit our time-frame to Eat Fresh. We only have a half hour... Mr. Sulu. Take it south to the end of lot, warp factor 5. Be at the ready.”
“Course noted. Warp Five in.”
“Captain,” interrupts Mr. Spock. “A large delivery transport seems to be blocking the alternate way out. You could be blocked in upon exiting, Sir. Might I suggest the deli down the way!”
“As a Vulcan, Mr. Spock, you sound more like my mother. Don’t worry, the Sub destination can handle the small volume in short order. The transport should be gone by then anyway.”
“Engineering to Captain.”
“What is it, Mr. Scott?”
“The Vulcan is right, Cap’in. The large transport has parked in your only exit way. You’a no’a’canna move. With the construction on the highway there, they’ve diverted the loading zone. You’re a dead in the water, Sir.”
“Scotty, see what you can work out. Call CalTrans and get a report. There. Must. Be. Another. Way.”
Remarkably, a dark, shady spot in a corner of the area opens up. It is well out of the heat of one of the sun-like orbs of light.
“Mr. Sulu. I’m docking here. Prepare to open cargo doors on my mark... three... two... ONE. Spock, what is our time?”
“Captain, if my calculations are correct, you should be exiting the Sub destination in about seven point five minutes. This destination works rather efficiently and well below the average waiting time. And they are said to be extremely friendly, Sir.”
“I’ll make note of that, Spock. Thank you. I’m going in. I’ll be out of communication for a bit. Mr. Sulu, prepare to beam me back in seven point five minutes.”
A life form greets almost mechanically from the other side of a glass panel, “Hello!. Welcome to Subway.”
Fade to black.
Fade up to see the USS Enterprise. The crew is staring at a presentation on a large screen. Uhura picks out the onions from her sandwich and delicately sets them aside. Sulu takes his package and slips back into his place at the control panel. He adjusts something on the console in front of him and swivels back in his seat. Scotty is noticeably missing as his package lies at the side by an empty chair. Spock raises one eye as he toys with the small sub, “It seems they used oil and vinegar instead of mayo. Interesting!”
“Can you fix it, Doctor?”
“Dammit, Jim. I’m a Doctor, not a sandwich maker.”
Giving Spock an imperturbable long look, the Captain smiles and takes a long slurp on his diet drink, “Upward and onward, Mr. Sulu. Next frame, please, Mr. Chekov. Next. Frame. Please.”
“Status report, Mr. Sulu”
“Aye, Captain. There seems to be others joining us in the search at this time. All passages are seriously congested.”
“Thank you, Sulu. Let us hope we get through the line quickly. I have the landing coordinates pinpointed. I shall be there soon. Perform another wider scan, Mr. Sulu.”
“Scanning, Sir. Seems congestion is at the far end of the lot. Not your Sub destination, Sir.”
“Let’s keep the communicator at the ready, Uhura. Given the short time we have, we may need to switch destinations.”
“Frequency open, Sir.”
“Captain,” interjects Mr. Spock.
“Yes, Spock, proceed.”
“I am detecting an unusual vehicle proceeding through the north end of the lot. It seems to be some form of white and red shuttle service. Life forms appear elderly and slow.”
“That could inhibit our time-frame to Eat Fresh. We only have a half hour... Mr. Sulu. Take it south to the end of lot, warp factor 5. Be at the ready.”
“Course noted. Warp Five in.”
“Captain,” interrupts Mr. Spock. “A large delivery transport seems to be blocking the alternate way out. You could be blocked in upon exiting, Sir. Might I suggest the deli down the way!”
“As a Vulcan, Mr. Spock, you sound more like my mother. Don’t worry, the Sub destination can handle the small volume in short order. The transport should be gone by then anyway.”
“Engineering to Captain.”
“What is it, Mr. Scott?”
“The Vulcan is right, Cap’in. The large transport has parked in your only exit way. You’a no’a’canna move. With the construction on the highway there, they’ve diverted the loading zone. You’re a dead in the water, Sir.”
“Scotty, see what you can work out. Call CalTrans and get a report. There. Must. Be. Another. Way.”
Remarkably, a dark, shady spot in a corner of the area opens up. It is well out of the heat of one of the sun-like orbs of light.
“Mr. Sulu. I’m docking here. Prepare to open cargo doors on my mark... three... two... ONE. Spock, what is our time?”
“Captain, if my calculations are correct, you should be exiting the Sub destination in about seven point five minutes. This destination works rather efficiently and well below the average waiting time. And they are said to be extremely friendly, Sir.”
“I’ll make note of that, Spock. Thank you. I’m going in. I’ll be out of communication for a bit. Mr. Sulu, prepare to beam me back in seven point five minutes.”
A life form greets almost mechanically from the other side of a glass panel, “Hello!. Welcome to Subway.”
Fade to black.
Fade up to see the USS Enterprise. The crew is staring at a presentation on a large screen. Uhura picks out the onions from her sandwich and delicately sets them aside. Sulu takes his package and slips back into his place at the control panel. He adjusts something on the console in front of him and swivels back in his seat. Scotty is noticeably missing as his package lies at the side by an empty chair. Spock raises one eye as he toys with the small sub, “It seems they used oil and vinegar instead of mayo. Interesting!”
“Can you fix it, Doctor?”
“Dammit, Jim. I’m a Doctor, not a sandwich maker.”
Giving Spock an imperturbable long look, the Captain smiles and takes a long slurp on his diet drink, “Upward and onward, Mr. Sulu. Next frame, please, Mr. Chekov. Next. Frame. Please.”
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