I don't think I believe in re-incarnation, but sometimes it's fun to think about. Should the opportunity present itself to me, I'll try my best let you know if that happens; hopefully no time soon.
If it does happen, I think I'd like to be a dog. Of course, I want to be a dog that grows up in happy carefree loving, dog friendly, my house is your house type of dog home like my current house. Seriously, I think my dog won the puppy lottery sometimes. I'm THAT loving!!!
Anyway, It is quite possible that, in a past life I was, or in my next life I will be, or in my current life, I am a dog.
I don't mean "Dog" as in the whole "Girlfriend, that BOY is a DEEE-OHHH-GEEE DAWG!!!" type of way, but more in the actual "furry creature that just wants love, affection, food and attention," type of way.
First off, I would LOVE to be able to just sleep anywhere at anytime and have it be perfectly fine and healthy for me to do so. This is actually some portion of my definition of Heaven. Granted, it is also a portion of the definition of "homelessness" too, so I must clarify.
I would LOVE to be able to just sleep anywhere I wish in my house at anytime, and quite often, I do. When this happens, I call it "the weekend" or a "sick day (nudge nudge wink wink)."
My dog will play play play and play and then drop wherever she is and sleep. It may be in the front yard, the bathroom, the bedroom, on my bed, on my daughters bed, on my futon, on the kitchen floor, on my dining room floor, on my couch... I get her off the couch when I catch her, but she is cunning and moves before I bust her. She does leave a remarkably warm dog shaped dent in the couch that I try to use as evidence, but she does not understand the evidence against her and plays stupid in a very cute and acceptable way!
I wish I could play play play play and when I am told to stop, or I get in trouble for doing so (because I should be working, or keeping my eyes on the road...) I wish I could just play stupid in a cute and acceptable way. I've tried this. Nobody seems to think it's very cute and I get tired too easily but that leads me back to wanting to sleep anywhere. Of course after sleeping too much I have to get up to go to the bathroom.
I wish I could go to the bathroom anywhere I wanted too!!! I kind of "can" go to the bathroom wherever I want, but it is very much socially unacceptable. My dog can go wherever she wants and as long as I am willing to clean up the cleanupable stuff, no one complains. But if I pee on one neighbors car tire, suddenly I'm "not welcome over here anymore!!!'' Jerks!
I would love to be groomed and pet ALL THE TIME!!! Seriously, I wait a long time between haircuts so my hair gets thick and long. That way, when I go to the "groomer" they have to take longer. They get a little unnerved when my leg keeps twitching but if they take long enough, it'll be reflected in their tip!
My dog wants to be pet all the time! Well, so do I dammit! My dog can just walk up to anyone, rub up against them and BOOM, they'll start petting her. Well, when I tried that.... you know what, I'm actually not supposed to talk about that...
Moving on...
There are just so many aspects to a dog's life that are just wonderful. I could totally handle eating the same thing every day, as long as it was pizza or steak for breakfast and dinner. And I wouldn't get in trouble for cleaning the bone on a t-bone or a pork chop. I get stared at a lot in restaurants when I'm eating a t-bone or a pork chop. I'm not proud....
Now I haven't just come up with this belief myself. No, I think this was generated within myself by the many comparisons and other treatments I have received from women in my life. Honestly, I've never been called a dog by any woman I've known (to my face at least) but when I've done good, or seem distracted, or seem sad, many of them pretty much give me a treat and pet me. I'm totally fine with this!!!!
I really think women mostly see me and many of my people as big talking animals whom they wish to fatten up for the kill!!! Again, totally fine with this!!!
Yup, a stress free dog's life sounds perfect to me. I just don't know how I feel about the whole "being neutered" thing....
I need to rethink this.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
The "Unchained" beast within...
This morning I woke up with the Lionel Richie song "All Night Long" stuck in my head. I wish I could say it was the song on the radio station when my clock radio alarm turned on, but alas, no. I woke up to no such alarm. No, I woke up thirty or so minutes before my alarm to a lovely dog playing what I can only guess was the drum beats for the song "Wipe Out" on my chest; I believe she was actually playing the FAT BOYS version.
But the dog is not the story here.
I don't mind the song "All Night Long" but I don't ever hear that song. Why it was on my mind I may never know. "Everyone you meet, they're jammin' in the street, All Night Long..." All. Morning. Long....
I liken having this song stuck in my head to when I used to have "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" stuck in my head way back in '84. I was in the 9th grade and that song was the song that the local Top 40 station, (which was the only station I could get) would play at the exact same time every morning which was the exact same time that my alarm clock would go off on school days.
Surely we all remember how I feel about TOP 40 RADIO!!! I might have implied back then that I liked some of the Top 40 of my day, but not so much when it came to the songs that got stuck in my head and haunted me. I've just recently learned, from Pandora Radio, that I liked what is called "80's Alternative" for the most part.... hmmmm....
Well, I also liked 80's ROCK AND FREAKIN' ROLL!!!!
So, with my head stuck in 1984 and my dog tormenting me for a walk I decided I would kill two birds with one stone!!! Actually I was going to DEMOLISH one bird with the stone, that bird being the song "All Night Long" stuck in my head, and the other bird would be spared because that bird was really my dog and I would like her to live, so I just took her for a walk!
Anyway, I decided to take the dog for a walk at 5:45 am and felt that some good old fashioned 80's Rock n Roll would be the tunes I would listen to for my walk. I thought to myself, "self, what better way to erase a pop hit from '84 (although it was released in'83 "All Night Long" didn't start tormenting me until '84) from my head than to listen to some rock and roll that I listened to A LOT in 1984!"
So I loaded a Van Halen album on my phone... yup, I'm sure you know which one...
FAIR WARNING!!!
At 5:45 am. walking in the dark, with your Golden Retriever wearing a pink collar with a matching leash, Fair Warning really helps get you going and balance out your badass level. I don't typically concern myself with my level of badassery... I am of the belief that those days are long gone. I am too old (not that I'm old) and too tired (I am sleepy a lot of the time) to really care about what anyone thinks about my bad self. I am also pretty humbled most of the time. I don't have time to be a badass... just a Dad!
However, when you're walking your dog at 5:45 am, in the dark, using pink doggie control stuff and singing "All Night Long" you may, and should, have a badassery dilemma within yourself. "All Night Long" just doesn't help.
So, Van Halen, FAIR WARNING, it is! Stepping out of your driveway and walking out into the dark with the first track "Mean Streets" playing really gets you feeling intense. Ready to be a COMPLETE badass... walking your dog.
The second track "Dirty Movies" is a lot more mellow but still gives you an overall feeling of awesomeness! It's unavoidable.
Tracks 3 and 4 really keep you going with a sense of how cool you are. "Sinner's Swing" and "Hear About it Later" just add to the energy within you as yet another ingredient thus far added to the mix of "badassery cake" you have become listening to this album... whilst walking your dog.
But, by the time you get to track five, there is an aura of badassedness that is consuming you. You lose yourself in the moment as soon as you hear the first few notes on Eddie's guitar grinding out the opening riff to "Unchained!" As Dave shouts out "ALRIGHT" and Alex and Michael bring in the rhythm it is so easy to get lost in the intensity of the song...
Only 21 seconds in, when Dave has just finished screeching out "ahhhhh hah hah hahhh" you are exploding within trying to contain the outpouring, dare I say "unchained," badass that you have become! Even your dog can see it as she slowly tries to inch further away from you.
As you are lost in the intensity of the combination of each performer, you can see them, in your minds eye, right in front of you... Dave doing his high kicks, Eddie jumping up kicking both legs out front and back all the while tearing away at his strings, Alex wearing sunglasses and looking angry as he pounds away at his drum set and Michael, just standing there smiling.
It is important to note that, at times, life is like a deck of cards and as excited as you are to add more of the stack to the tower you make of yourself, it can all come crumbling down in an instant.
Listening to this song in private, or with a group of your "bro's" it is okay to play your air guitar in a badassery bond session. However, at 6:02 am (as you are now over 17 minutes into the album), in the dark, walking a golden retriever wearing a pink collar with a matching leash, in a public park, with other people around, you should in fact NOT play your air guitar.
Sadly, this morning, I did.
I also added the occasional David Lee Roth signature "leg kick straight up in the air" (although I can't kick that high) along with the equally thrilling signature Eddie Van Halen "jump up and kick one leg out forward and the other backward all the while playing your air guitar and holding a dog leash" maneuver as I walked my dog in the park.
Not one person in the park knew what was going on. I can only imagine what they thought seeing me as a silhouette walking my dog off in the distance, suddenly kicking my legs about and jumping in the air screaming "ahhhhh hah hah hahh."
No one would make eye contact with me after that moment.
No one held out a lighter and shouted "more."
I was broken. I had NO badass mojo within me. I was just a guy, walking his dog, with the pink stuff, now in the glow of pre-sunrise, ostracized by my "peers."
Coincidentally, that's when the sad slower sixth song on the album "Push Comes to Shove" came on. It is as if Van Halen knew when they originally recorded this album that by the time you got to the sixth track you would have made such a fool of yourself you would need that song to comfort your foolishness.
As I was finishing up my last lap around the park I caught up to one of my witnesses. He looked at me, almost nervous. So I spoke.
"Watch out for those squirrels over there. THEY ARE NUTS!!! I had to jump away from one and scream at it a little while ago."
That seemed to calm his nerves.
I added to his comfort by making myself appear absolutely nonthreatening and I walked away singing "All Night Long (ALL NIGHT)."
But the dog is not the story here.
I don't mind the song "All Night Long" but I don't ever hear that song. Why it was on my mind I may never know. "Everyone you meet, they're jammin' in the street, All Night Long..." All. Morning. Long....
I liken having this song stuck in my head to when I used to have "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" stuck in my head way back in '84. I was in the 9th grade and that song was the song that the local Top 40 station, (which was the only station I could get) would play at the exact same time every morning which was the exact same time that my alarm clock would go off on school days.
Surely we all remember how I feel about TOP 40 RADIO!!! I might have implied back then that I liked some of the Top 40 of my day, but not so much when it came to the songs that got stuck in my head and haunted me. I've just recently learned, from Pandora Radio, that I liked what is called "80's Alternative" for the most part.... hmmmm....
Well, I also liked 80's ROCK AND FREAKIN' ROLL!!!!
So, with my head stuck in 1984 and my dog tormenting me for a walk I decided I would kill two birds with one stone!!! Actually I was going to DEMOLISH one bird with the stone, that bird being the song "All Night Long" stuck in my head, and the other bird would be spared because that bird was really my dog and I would like her to live, so I just took her for a walk!
Anyway, I decided to take the dog for a walk at 5:45 am and felt that some good old fashioned 80's Rock n Roll would be the tunes I would listen to for my walk. I thought to myself, "self, what better way to erase a pop hit from '84 (although it was released in'83 "All Night Long" didn't start tormenting me until '84) from my head than to listen to some rock and roll that I listened to A LOT in 1984!"
So I loaded a Van Halen album on my phone... yup, I'm sure you know which one...
FAIR WARNING!!!
At 5:45 am. walking in the dark, with your Golden Retriever wearing a pink collar with a matching leash, Fair Warning really helps get you going and balance out your badass level. I don't typically concern myself with my level of badassery... I am of the belief that those days are long gone. I am too old (not that I'm old) and too tired (I am sleepy a lot of the time) to really care about what anyone thinks about my bad self. I am also pretty humbled most of the time. I don't have time to be a badass... just a Dad!
However, when you're walking your dog at 5:45 am, in the dark, using pink doggie control stuff and singing "All Night Long" you may, and should, have a badassery dilemma within yourself. "All Night Long" just doesn't help.
So, Van Halen, FAIR WARNING, it is! Stepping out of your driveway and walking out into the dark with the first track "Mean Streets" playing really gets you feeling intense. Ready to be a COMPLETE badass... walking your dog.
The second track "Dirty Movies" is a lot more mellow but still gives you an overall feeling of awesomeness! It's unavoidable.
Tracks 3 and 4 really keep you going with a sense of how cool you are. "Sinner's Swing" and "Hear About it Later" just add to the energy within you as yet another ingredient thus far added to the mix of "badassery cake" you have become listening to this album... whilst walking your dog.
But, by the time you get to track five, there is an aura of badassedness that is consuming you. You lose yourself in the moment as soon as you hear the first few notes on Eddie's guitar grinding out the opening riff to "Unchained!" As Dave shouts out "ALRIGHT" and Alex and Michael bring in the rhythm it is so easy to get lost in the intensity of the song...
Only 21 seconds in, when Dave has just finished screeching out "ahhhhh hah hah hahhh" you are exploding within trying to contain the outpouring, dare I say "unchained," badass that you have become! Even your dog can see it as she slowly tries to inch further away from you.
As you are lost in the intensity of the combination of each performer, you can see them, in your minds eye, right in front of you... Dave doing his high kicks, Eddie jumping up kicking both legs out front and back all the while tearing away at his strings, Alex wearing sunglasses and looking angry as he pounds away at his drum set and Michael, just standing there smiling.
It is important to note that, at times, life is like a deck of cards and as excited as you are to add more of the stack to the tower you make of yourself, it can all come crumbling down in an instant.
Listening to this song in private, or with a group of your "bro's" it is okay to play your air guitar in a badassery bond session. However, at 6:02 am (as you are now over 17 minutes into the album), in the dark, walking a golden retriever wearing a pink collar with a matching leash, in a public park, with other people around, you should in fact NOT play your air guitar.
Sadly, this morning, I did.
I also added the occasional David Lee Roth signature "leg kick straight up in the air" (although I can't kick that high) along with the equally thrilling signature Eddie Van Halen "jump up and kick one leg out forward and the other backward all the while playing your air guitar and holding a dog leash" maneuver as I walked my dog in the park.
Not one person in the park knew what was going on. I can only imagine what they thought seeing me as a silhouette walking my dog off in the distance, suddenly kicking my legs about and jumping in the air screaming "ahhhhh hah hah hahh."
No one would make eye contact with me after that moment.
No one held out a lighter and shouted "more."
I was broken. I had NO badass mojo within me. I was just a guy, walking his dog, with the pink stuff, now in the glow of pre-sunrise, ostracized by my "peers."
Coincidentally, that's when the sad slower sixth song on the album "Push Comes to Shove" came on. It is as if Van Halen knew when they originally recorded this album that by the time you got to the sixth track you would have made such a fool of yourself you would need that song to comfort your foolishness.
As I was finishing up my last lap around the park I caught up to one of my witnesses. He looked at me, almost nervous. So I spoke.
"Watch out for those squirrels over there. THEY ARE NUTS!!! I had to jump away from one and scream at it a little while ago."
That seemed to calm his nerves.
I added to his comfort by making myself appear absolutely nonthreatening and I walked away singing "All Night Long (ALL NIGHT)."
Monday, September 24, 2012
Chihuahua Loan Shark
I'm too tired to write so much today. So, I'll keep it short. At the very least you can understand where I'm coming from.
It was beautiful and cool outside this morning. The orange and pink rays of sunlight breaking over the horizon were radiating through the blue sky dotted with cirrus clouds drifting on the breeze. It was perfect for an early morning walk around the park.
It was beautiful and cool outside this morning. The orange and pink rays of sunlight breaking over the horizon were radiating through the blue sky dotted with cirrus clouds drifting on the breeze. It was perfect for an early morning walk around the park.
About halfway into my walk, the strangest thing happened. A giant dog paw came down from the sky and started smacking me in the face. It was as though I was late in paying some loan shark the money I owed and his big giant dog had come to collect; so much violence for such a beautiful scene.
I kept closing my eyes hoping that the paw would simply go away but it would not.
I quickly shut and opened my eyes one last time when I realized that I was still in bed.
It was at that moment I also realized that my dog is not only a shylock, but she is also convinced that she is a chihuahua and standing on my face is an appropriate way to wake me up.
She is soooo very much wrong on both counts.
She is soooo very much wrong on both counts.
I am guessing that this was the dog's way of telling me that we weren't actually walking as she would really really like us to be.
So much for "sleeping in" today. We just walked for 45 minutes....
Friday, September 21, 2012
Ahhhhhh, the change of seasons are so wonderful!
Ahhhhhhh... the days are getting shorter... the nights are getting longer... the world is a little cooler... there's a breeze in the air....
It'll be fall in just a day... how nice....
Seriously, I am so stoked about this!
I do like the summer, except for all the heat. Heat sucks! I must admit that this past summer was my first "Seattle Summer" in that it rained nearly every day. I've spent time in Seattle. It has NEVER rained any day I've been in the Pacific Northwest. I am almost convinced that all the folks up there just make up the "oh it rains all the time" story to keep the rest of us away. GREEDY!!!
So yeah, it rained a lot here this past summer. But it was still very much warm. So my yard was very lush but I had to mow it more which meant more time in the damned heat! It also meant opening myself up to mosquito bites.
LOT'S OF EM"!!!
We had an "outbreak" of West Nile Virus around here. A friend of mine even contracted it. From what I understand he's okay. With all the bites I got, I think I am immune. I am not certain but some days I swore I just knew:
But my body fought it off and although I felt sickly and itchy, I made it to work. Damn my work ethic.
I live in the Southeast of the US. We have very hot summers with little rain and very cold winters with no snow. By "very hot" I mean that we break the 100's quite frequently. I cannot believe people used to live here without AC. Granted, as I've said before, if you didn't know you were missing it, then you didn't really miss it. But I bet you sure as hell appreciated it when you got it (AC).
But we had a mild wet summer here this year what with all the rain. However, again, the mosquitos were the worst part.
And when I say we get "very cold" here I'm kind of joking. I mean it is cold but, well I spent a significant part of my childhood in Chicago. School NEVER closed there in the winter. It never got TOO cold or snowy for school and it was in the negative below zero mark plenty of the time. I don't think we hit negative anything very often, if at all, where I live now. We get to the teens often and the less than ten rarely, but those are few and far between.
Everyone runs out and buys milk and bread when that happens. I never understood that. You'll hear the weather man say "It's gonna be in the low teens tonight so..." and then WHOOSH all of your neighbors head to the store to buy milk and bread. WHY? Cocoa, firewood, matches, marshmallows... I can see those as "whoo hoo it's cold" type groceries but milk and bread? I don't know. I think people get that because they're sure we're going to die and they want that as their last meal? No, that can't be right.
Anyway, last winter, there were no rushes on milk and bread. It had to be the warmest winter I've spent in the south. It was awful... I had only ONE fire in my fireplace and that was premature. It hit 40 one night early on in the fall and I got all excited and started a fire. Then I had to open my windows and doors because it was so damn hot in my house.
The news has said that part of the reason for all of the mosquitos this summer was because of the mild winter and all the rain this summer.
One of the things I like best about the cooler weather is that I can wear more layers of clothing. I never got over the whole grunge look I guess. I always liked all of the layers. Not that I am "grunge" anymore. But I still like layers. I wear undershirts year round... just the shirts... year round...
In the summer you can't take off enough to be cool. And if you could, the mosquitoes would just get you in places you never dreamed possible; sounds awful. Oh yeah, and you might get arrested too.
So, the fall will be here tomorrow and soon it will be cold enough to kill off the damned mosquitoes.
I hope I can hear them screaming in little mosquito agony as they freeze outside my window, begging me to let them come in for a nice warm cup of my blood... DIE MOSQUITOES DIE!!! I WANT MY BLOOD!!!! YOU DIE!!!!
Wow, this one took an odd turn.
It'll be fall in just a day... how nice....
Seriously, I am so stoked about this!
I do like the summer, except for all the heat. Heat sucks! I must admit that this past summer was my first "Seattle Summer" in that it rained nearly every day. I've spent time in Seattle. It has NEVER rained any day I've been in the Pacific Northwest. I am almost convinced that all the folks up there just make up the "oh it rains all the time" story to keep the rest of us away. GREEDY!!!
So yeah, it rained a lot here this past summer. But it was still very much warm. So my yard was very lush but I had to mow it more which meant more time in the damned heat! It also meant opening myself up to mosquito bites.
LOT'S OF EM"!!!
We had an "outbreak" of West Nile Virus around here. A friend of mine even contracted it. From what I understand he's okay. With all the bites I got, I think I am immune. I am not certain but some days I swore I just knew:
"Hmmmmmm.... I don't want to go to work today. Ah well, must be West Nile."
But my body fought it off and although I felt sickly and itchy, I made it to work. Damn my work ethic.
I live in the Southeast of the US. We have very hot summers with little rain and very cold winters with no snow. By "very hot" I mean that we break the 100's quite frequently. I cannot believe people used to live here without AC. Granted, as I've said before, if you didn't know you were missing it, then you didn't really miss it. But I bet you sure as hell appreciated it when you got it (AC).
But we had a mild wet summer here this year what with all the rain. However, again, the mosquitos were the worst part.
And when I say we get "very cold" here I'm kind of joking. I mean it is cold but, well I spent a significant part of my childhood in Chicago. School NEVER closed there in the winter. It never got TOO cold or snowy for school and it was in the negative below zero mark plenty of the time. I don't think we hit negative anything very often, if at all, where I live now. We get to the teens often and the less than ten rarely, but those are few and far between.
Everyone runs out and buys milk and bread when that happens. I never understood that. You'll hear the weather man say "It's gonna be in the low teens tonight so..." and then WHOOSH all of your neighbors head to the store to buy milk and bread. WHY? Cocoa, firewood, matches, marshmallows... I can see those as "whoo hoo it's cold" type groceries but milk and bread? I don't know. I think people get that because they're sure we're going to die and they want that as their last meal? No, that can't be right.
Anyway, last winter, there were no rushes on milk and bread. It had to be the warmest winter I've spent in the south. It was awful... I had only ONE fire in my fireplace and that was premature. It hit 40 one night early on in the fall and I got all excited and started a fire. Then I had to open my windows and doors because it was so damn hot in my house.
The news has said that part of the reason for all of the mosquitos this summer was because of the mild winter and all the rain this summer.
One of the things I like best about the cooler weather is that I can wear more layers of clothing. I never got over the whole grunge look I guess. I always liked all of the layers. Not that I am "grunge" anymore. But I still like layers. I wear undershirts year round... just the shirts... year round...
In the summer you can't take off enough to be cool. And if you could, the mosquitoes would just get you in places you never dreamed possible; sounds awful. Oh yeah, and you might get arrested too.
So, the fall will be here tomorrow and soon it will be cold enough to kill off the damned mosquitoes.
I hope I can hear them screaming in little mosquito agony as they freeze outside my window, begging me to let them come in for a nice warm cup of my blood... DIE MOSQUITOES DIE!!! I WANT MY BLOOD!!!! YOU DIE!!!!
Wow, this one took an odd turn.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Ohhhhh Dream Weaver....What the hell were you thinking?
I have heard it said that "dreams are the windows to our souls," and sometimes I can believe that.
Of course, sometimes, I am concerned that my soul may burn in a pit of hell fire with some of the dreams I have, because, you know... they can be kinda dirty... or angry. But angry/ vengeful dreams are rare.
Most of the times, I have really happy dreams about stress free livin', so, you know, those are fantasy dreams!
Often I dream of spending time with my child and just having wonderful moments. But those dreams can make me sad because I start to get distracted by the time I don't get with her. But sad dreams are few and far between.
Sometimes I have dreams that are sooooo dull that I wake up bored. Seriously, I had one dream of me sitting at a small table in a kitchen (not my kitchen). I was wearing a white tank top and pj bottoms, just sitting at the table hunched over reading the paper while I smoked a cigarette and drank my coffee. The kitchen was black and white and so was my dream. I was watching myself in my dream and it had a whole "film noire" black and white type feel to it. Because I was watching myself, I couldn't even tell you what I was reading on the paper. IT WAS SOOOO BORING... I DON'T SMOKE!!!!
So I woke up, got out of bed and read some stuff online.
Overall, I am fascinated by the messages that I am able to discover within my soul from tapping into my subconscious mind. However, for the most part, what I take away from my dreams is that:
And for the most part, that's it.
So a few nights ago, this is what I dreamed.....
This is the point where you say "wheedlie wheedlie wheedlie" a few times and wiggle your hands next to your head whilst everything you look at gets all wavy-like...
It was a quiet fall afternoon.
I went for a walk and wandered off, about two miles east from my house.
I found myself standing outside of a friends house. I decided to go to their front door. It was cracked open, so I walked in.
I surveyed the house. Everything was fine, but no one was home. Their television was on in the downstairs living room. It was football; college, football.
I stared at the television and decided to wait. However, even though I was staring at the television, I couldn't see what teams we're playing. I could only hear the audio.
What I could see was laundry sitting out. So, I decided to fold it.
I started folding the laundry on their bed, but, they don't have a bed in their downstairs living room. As I was folding the laundry, I noticed that I was folding underwear that was MUCH too big for anyone who lived in this house.
Maybe I was in the wrong house?
I decided to leave and as I walked out the front door I could see another door on the front of the house closing as someone walked in. I looked back. It was the right house.
I decided to walk back home.
That night I took my date to a party. The person who's house I went to during the day was there.
He and his wife were very excitedly telling everyone that someone had broken into their house and folded their laundry that afternoon.
I woke up.
WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE AWAY FROM THAT DREAM?!?!?!
I really have no clue.
I got out of bed and started a load of laundry. Then I read stuff online.
Of course, sometimes, I am concerned that my soul may burn in a pit of hell fire with some of the dreams I have, because, you know... they can be kinda dirty... or angry. But angry/ vengeful dreams are rare.
Most of the times, I have really happy dreams about stress free livin', so, you know, those are fantasy dreams!
Often I dream of spending time with my child and just having wonderful moments. But those dreams can make me sad because I start to get distracted by the time I don't get with her. But sad dreams are few and far between.
Sometimes I have dreams that are sooooo dull that I wake up bored. Seriously, I had one dream of me sitting at a small table in a kitchen (not my kitchen). I was wearing a white tank top and pj bottoms, just sitting at the table hunched over reading the paper while I smoked a cigarette and drank my coffee. The kitchen was black and white and so was my dream. I was watching myself in my dream and it had a whole "film noire" black and white type feel to it. Because I was watching myself, I couldn't even tell you what I was reading on the paper. IT WAS SOOOO BORING... I DON'T SMOKE!!!!
So I woke up, got out of bed and read some stuff online.
Overall, I am fascinated by the messages that I am able to discover within my soul from tapping into my subconscious mind. However, for the most part, what I take away from my dreams is that:
- I really love my little girl
- I wish I had superpowers
- all of them
- I would prefer to win the lottery
- I really like women
- I want absolute revenge on all my mortal enemies
- and the immortal ones too
- I'm sad sometimes
- I want to dive more often
- I want to work on more Calrec audio consoles
- Seriously, I really like women....
And for the most part, that's it.
So a few nights ago, this is what I dreamed.....
This is the point where you say "wheedlie wheedlie wheedlie" a few times and wiggle your hands next to your head whilst everything you look at gets all wavy-like...
It was a quiet fall afternoon.
I went for a walk and wandered off, about two miles east from my house.
I found myself standing outside of a friends house. I decided to go to their front door. It was cracked open, so I walked in.
I surveyed the house. Everything was fine, but no one was home. Their television was on in the downstairs living room. It was football; college, football.
I stared at the television and decided to wait. However, even though I was staring at the television, I couldn't see what teams we're playing. I could only hear the audio.
What I could see was laundry sitting out. So, I decided to fold it.
I started folding the laundry on their bed, but, they don't have a bed in their downstairs living room. As I was folding the laundry, I noticed that I was folding underwear that was MUCH too big for anyone who lived in this house.
Maybe I was in the wrong house?
I decided to leave and as I walked out the front door I could see another door on the front of the house closing as someone walked in. I looked back. It was the right house.
I decided to walk back home.
That night I took my date to a party. The person who's house I went to during the day was there.
He and his wife were very excitedly telling everyone that someone had broken into their house and folded their laundry that afternoon.
I woke up.
WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE AWAY FROM THAT DREAM?!?!?!
I really have no clue.
I got out of bed and started a load of laundry. Then I read stuff online.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The Cookie Minions
Recently, whilst doing my best to fight off an awful craving, I had an epiphany! A thought entered my mind and I was finally able to figure out a grand conspiracy that has been pulled over on all of us!
I am convinced that there was once an elf who's only goal in life was to be one of the Keebler Elves. He served as an apprentice for years learning the trade and baking the best cookies. All he wanted to was to bring joy to the masses through his cookies made with love.
I am convinced that there was once an elf who's only goal in life was to be one of the Keebler Elves. He served as an apprentice for years learning the trade and baking the best cookies. All he wanted to was to bring joy to the masses through his cookies made with love.
But, as always happens in the corporate world, not every apprentice could become one of THE Keebler Elves. A choice had to be made.
It was down to our elf in question, who I imagine had a cute little elf name like “Scout” and one other Elf who I'm sure was a really popular jerk named something like “Biff.” Scout and Biff had one final cook off and I'd be willing to bet that Biff put some alum (just like in the Roadrunner/ Coyote cartoons) into Scout's flour.
When the baking was done, Scout's cookies were awful and Biff won the job.
It was down to our elf in question, who I imagine had a cute little elf name like “Scout” and one other Elf who I'm sure was a really popular jerk named something like “Biff.” Scout and Biff had one final cook off and I'd be willing to bet that Biff put some alum (just like in the Roadrunner/ Coyote cartoons) into Scout's flour.
When the baking was done, Scout's cookies were awful and Biff won the job.
Scout was destroyed and lost his dream. He spent many years listless and broken begginr for justice only to vow revenge! Evil eventually corrupted his soul and victory over Biff an Keebler became his ultimate goal (oh cool that kinda rhymes). Scout's new purpose in life became domination of the cookie industry and proving to those damned Keebler folks that he IS better than them!
Scout devised a plan.
Scout devised a plan.
Slowly he built his empire and his eventual domination was in full swing. He started with a few recipes but did not have the cash flow to distribute. That is where his evil ingenuity truly shined. Scout didn't have to pay distributors to sell his cookies. He would have no stores for overhead. He would start an "organization!!!”
This is the part where in your head, you sing a dramatic “DAH DAH DAHHHHHH...”
This is the part where in your head, you sing a dramatic “DAH DAH DAHHHHHH...”
He would convince parents around the world to get their daughters to join a "club." In doing so, these parents would pay HIM for the honor of selling and distributing his cookies only ONCE every year. And his business would thrive!!!!! These Girls would simply stare into the eyes of and guilt any adult into buying Scout's precious cookies.
They could not be stopped!
They could not be stopped!
I imagine that at this very moment, Scout, in a three piece tailored suit, is sitting in a large 100th floor office, behind a desk made from Keebler's tree, rolling his fingertips together repeating “Good.... Goooood” in an evil tone as he watches video of his agents doing his bidding on a monitor bank in front of him.
Well, HAH SCOUT!!!! I only bought 7 boxes of your cookies from 4 of your agents last year. This year I will probably, almost certainly, only buy 6!!!! I'll show you!!!!
But, ummmmm, purely hypothetical here, if my little girl works for you, do I get a discount?
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
My Life in Television: As it turns out, I still play with toys.
"There is an every day product that is most likely in your house that can kill you and your family right now, without warning... we'll tell you about that and much more coming up during our hour long newscast... stay tuned!"
I worked in local television news for thirteen years of my career. I am a behind the scenes guy. Should you ever see me on the news, it's probably because I robbed a bank... because local television doesn't always pay so well. I'm kidding... I won't rob a bank...
 |
| I specialize in audio. When I told my Mom what I did, she sent me this. I come by my sense of humor honestly. |
In television I have met some of the most amazing, generous, emotional and colorful people I could have ever imagined, outside of theater life.
When I was in school, a professor once asked our class, "What are television stations on the air for?"
We all knew this was a noble purpose. We all knew we could easily find the right answer. We all were wrong...
"To keep people informed"
"To serve the community"
"To protect our community"
"To keep the government in check"
"To report the news!"
The list went on. Every member of the class tried to out do each other with the pure nobility that is working in the news.
Please keep in mind that I am not knocking on news. I have much respect for the people who work in news. Many of my friends still do so and there are times I often miss it. Live television is a rush and a challenge, and being a part of a team that can reach your community with an important message can really ignite a spark within you. Granted, I'm sure there are people that feel that way about working in fast food. Seriously, click on this link. There is a career out there for every one to feel passionate about.
But what our professor told us about that day was a rude awakening... however, it was very much true.
" You have it all backwards. Television stations are on the air to televise commercials. TV stations are on the air to make money! All of the shows you watch, including The Cosby Show (this was a long time ago) and even the news are the filler between the commercials! Commercials make money!"
"HOLY CRAP.... TV is a Business" we all thought to ourselves? It is.
So, when you watch the news, they want to keep you watching. They need you to see the commercials. It's a fair trade. Really, you are staying informed and the news is staying on the air. But the term commonly used, in the business, is that news can become "infotainment!"
After 13 years in local news, I left and made the step into commercial production. It's a lot of fun and a completely different challenge and it's more closely affiliated with the core purpose of television; making money. I didn't necessarily wish to leave the news game as I really did love it, but commercial production gave me more of a creative outlet and was more conducive to my home life and time with my daughter. She is, quite often, my driving force. Big surprise there, huh?
But I still have the bug for live television. I still love the challenge and the thrill.
So now, I freelance in sports production. It is wonderful! I wish I could do it more often but I am sort of a "weekend warrior" in the field. As well as the previously mentioned "challenge," the camaraderie is wonderful!
Depending on the scale of the show, everyone shows up on site for a broadcast either a day, a few days or just six hours before broadcast, or "air." Whether there are 20 or 100 members on the crew, everyone knows their role for the broadcast and their place in the hierarchy. Each member is focused on their job and typically they do this very professionally! We work together as a team and we usually work together quite well.
I have a lot of respect for most of the people I work with. Inside jokingly (I think I just made that up), I mostly respect the audio people. I am an audio people and we are seriously outnumbered on these shows... we have to stick together!!!! But overall, we all get along well, doing our respective jobs.
Quite often these are ten hour work days. We spend the six hours before the broadcast setting up our equipment and making sure everything works. We spend the first few minutes of the broadcast on the air hoping nothing broke since you last checked it.
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| Being on the air is the easy part. |
And then we spend a few hours after the show putting everything away. I love these shows and I love these days. And in all seriousness, I would never sit back with my feet up on a console during a broadcast.
I walk away from these shows with a real sense of accomplishment having aired a live program that was very challenging/ exciting, that was aired to very much keep you entertained while not even hiding the fact that it is making money, without any pre-determined outcome. It's very fulfilling.
So.... this past weekend I televised a women's soccer match (yes yes yes..." football" for the non-American readers out there... I have no idea why we don't call it football here. The name seems very accurate for this particular sport. Moving on...)
I had told my daughter that the game would be over by 4. It was over by 4:05. At five she called me from home very upset. "Daddy... why aren't you home now? You said the game would end an hour ago?!?!?"
Of course I explained to her that I would be home soon and that we were all working very hard to clean up everything we were using to put the show on the air.
She took in what I said and replied with "So, you've been playing with your friends all day and now you have to clean up your room and put away all of your toys?"
With a tear in my eye and a smile I could not hold back, I simply replied "yes dear.. exactly!" I was home within the hour.
See what I've done here?
I typed this terribly long story about how serious I am about my career and how much I understand and appreciate every aspect of it only to really tell you how sweet my kid is and how wonderful a child's perspective can truly be!
Monday, September 17, 2012
I'll stop the car and merge with you...
I am "That Guy!"
You know That guy, the one who drives down the road in rush hour traffic next to you every day singing at the top of lungs along with whatever is blaring through his stereo.
The same guy who, while using two hands to hold the steering wheel and one foot to work the gas and brake, magically has the ability to also play the air (bass) guitar and still tap out the drum beats while driving. You know, you've been behind that guy in traffic and his brake lights keep flashing on and off but not because he has his hazard lights on or is even trying to brake, but because the bass drum on this song is just AWESOME and deserves extra special attention and must be tapped out with his gas/ brake foot at all costs!!!!
This guy was the one who, before getting his drivers license, would take a shower for at least a good thirty minutes so he could sing one entire side of a record or the entire "Stars on 45" medley over and over and over again because, what the hell else are you supposed to do in such an acoustically perfect shower?
Yup, that guy, you've seen him, well, he's me! I'm sure there are other's but what the hell, it's my story, I'm typing it... That guy IS me!
So yeah, I like to JAM in my car!
But today, I almost killed myself and I was just singing. I was not playing the drums. I was not playing any air instruments. I was being a responsible driver, both hands on the wheel, eyes forward, singing along with the radio.
Have you ever heard someone choking to death and so you run up behind them and start to administer the Heimlich Maneuver because you saw this work in a movie once and it turns out that they weren't choking? It turns out that they were just trying to speak French or German for the first time. Of course, these languages can be very beautiful if spoken correctly (yes, even German especially when sung). But if someone just doesn't have the accent down, they might sound like they're dying. So now, you're under arrest for trying to save someone from the French language...
Well, the song I was singing wasn't in another language, but it had a similar effect on me. It was in English. In fact, it was in Modern English. I was singing the Modern English song "I Melt With You" but I was trying NOT to sing it with an English accent.
Have you ever tried that? It's next to impossible. I've tried before and I can't do it. But that was when I was standing on a stage. I should have known better than to ever try to sing "Moving forward using all my breath.. making love to you was never second best" in an American accent while driving my car. It's a dangerous distraction.
Here, try that thing where you sit in your chair and at the same time tap your head with one hand and rub your belly in a circular motion with the other hand. It's a difficult thing to do. Now, at the same time, try to sing I Melt With You in an American accent. You'll be lucky if you only sprain something but chances are, somehow, someway, you're going to wind up in a burn unit for you efforts. Yeah, I know, even just sitting still... BURN UNIT!!!!
There is a band called "Bowling for Soup" that pulled it off as a cover at least once for the recording, but the song just sounds wrong. My brain won't even accept their version of the song as the same song.
But that's what happens my friends. You're brain is tied up in the English to American Accent change over with this song and all other brain functions have to get involved. I'm afraid if I ever try this again I might just stop breathing because the part of my brain that controls breathing will be distracted by one of the greatest English only songs out there!
My daughter sings most nights for a good thrity minutes in the shower. It makes me smile, but today's experience has made me realize that I will soon have to have "the talk" with her.
Yup, the "Modern English" talk.
You know That guy, the one who drives down the road in rush hour traffic next to you every day singing at the top of lungs along with whatever is blaring through his stereo.
The same guy who, while using two hands to hold the steering wheel and one foot to work the gas and brake, magically has the ability to also play the air (bass) guitar and still tap out the drum beats while driving. You know, you've been behind that guy in traffic and his brake lights keep flashing on and off but not because he has his hazard lights on or is even trying to brake, but because the bass drum on this song is just AWESOME and deserves extra special attention and must be tapped out with his gas/ brake foot at all costs!!!!
This guy was the one who, before getting his drivers license, would take a shower for at least a good thirty minutes so he could sing one entire side of a record or the entire "Stars on 45" medley over and over and over again because, what the hell else are you supposed to do in such an acoustically perfect shower?
Yup, that guy, you've seen him, well, he's me! I'm sure there are other's but what the hell, it's my story, I'm typing it... That guy IS me!
- On a bad day I'm probably belting out some sort of Cure-esque type dirge.
- On a cool day I'm probably rapping out the sound track to Office Space! That's a very "Gangsta" CD.
- On a Nancy boy type day I catch myself singing along with Culture Club or Madonna because my radio station snuck that one in on me and I "forgot" to change the channel.
- On a day I'm feeling dangerous, it's the Bee Gees!
- On deep meaningful days you can probably catch me belting out "O Fortuna" or Mozart's "Dies Ire." I might even be singing "Vesti la Giubba" because not only am I deep and meaningful at that moment, but also because, whoa... been there done that and lived that life if you know what that reference means...
So yeah, I like to JAM in my car!
But today, I almost killed myself and I was just singing. I was not playing the drums. I was not playing any air instruments. I was being a responsible driver, both hands on the wheel, eyes forward, singing along with the radio.
Have you ever heard someone choking to death and so you run up behind them and start to administer the Heimlich Maneuver because you saw this work in a movie once and it turns out that they weren't choking? It turns out that they were just trying to speak French or German for the first time. Of course, these languages can be very beautiful if spoken correctly (yes, even German especially when sung). But if someone just doesn't have the accent down, they might sound like they're dying. So now, you're under arrest for trying to save someone from the French language...
Well, the song I was singing wasn't in another language, but it had a similar effect on me. It was in English. In fact, it was in Modern English. I was singing the Modern English song "I Melt With You" but I was trying NOT to sing it with an English accent.
Have you ever tried that? It's next to impossible. I've tried before and I can't do it. But that was when I was standing on a stage. I should have known better than to ever try to sing "Moving forward using all my breath.. making love to you was never second best" in an American accent while driving my car. It's a dangerous distraction.
Here, try that thing where you sit in your chair and at the same time tap your head with one hand and rub your belly in a circular motion with the other hand. It's a difficult thing to do. Now, at the same time, try to sing I Melt With You in an American accent. You'll be lucky if you only sprain something but chances are, somehow, someway, you're going to wind up in a burn unit for you efforts. Yeah, I know, even just sitting still... BURN UNIT!!!!
There is a band called "Bowling for Soup" that pulled it off as a cover at least once for the recording, but the song just sounds wrong. My brain won't even accept their version of the song as the same song.
But that's what happens my friends. You're brain is tied up in the English to American Accent change over with this song and all other brain functions have to get involved. I'm afraid if I ever try this again I might just stop breathing because the part of my brain that controls breathing will be distracted by one of the greatest English only songs out there!
My daughter sings most nights for a good thrity minutes in the shower. It makes me smile, but today's experience has made me realize that I will soon have to have "the talk" with her.
Yup, the "Modern English" talk.
Friday, September 14, 2012
A Wolf in Sheeps Art Smocks.
I remember in one of my first history or social studies classes, in either elementary or middle school, learning about the American Indians and how they would use the skin of an animal they had recently killed to camouflage themselves. They would then use this outfit to sneak into the pack or herd of these animals and kill more of the animals.
I am not certain why they taught us this. It wasn't exactly something I could use and it really hasn't helped me develop socially as an individual. Granted, it was quite the conversation starter that one time I found myself on a reservation trying to sell firewater to the locals.
Actually, NO, that never ever ever ever happened. It wouldn't happen. So, I am not entirely certain why they taught us this.
I just remember seeing the picture so clearly in my textbook. It was just a copy in black and white of a wood carving, or etching, or whatever crazy zany and exciting new way artists have come up with to avoid using a brush on canvas the way art was meant to be made!
Yeah, I have no idea what I'm talking about. My experience in painting pretty much stopped at those water colors where you just put water on the page and the segments in the pre-painted picture turned whatever color they were meant to be. The only way it was possible to mess one of those "paintings" up was to use actual paint or even crayons on the picture.
I messed those up, a lot.
So I am not so much of an artist.
So, why did I have to learn this art form in 3rd or 5th grade social studies? Well I didn't; Nobody learns ART in SOCIAL STUDIES silly! What are you thinking? All I said was that I saw a picture in my textbook and then I got off point.
Wayyyyy off point as a matter of fact.
I was really trying to just talk about the Indian in the deer suit. Of course, if I put it that way, it's as if I think he was saying to the deer for a few weeks while it was locked up in a well,
Except he probably said it in Cherokee or something like that.
No, in fact, forget that the guy was an Indian and that he was wearing a skin that some creature was previously using to keep it's insides, well, inside.
The thing is that this was a person using a skin to win the hearts and minds of another species so he could get in close and destroy it!
So, with that point finally made, I was cleaning my house recently... I was getting rid of some old things that we just don't need anymore when I came across some of my daughters old bath towels.
They were the really cute kind that she can wear over her head and then wrap around her body. One looked like a puppy dog and the other a butterfly.
At that moment, the picture of the Indian in the deer suit, stalking other deer of which he was ready to pounce upon and kill, popped into my mind for the first time since the 3rd or 5th grade.
"OH MY GOD!!!!" I thought quite loudly to myself.
"MY CHILD (still very loud) WORE THESE CUTE TOWELS SO THAT SHE COULD WIN MY HEART AND MIND ONLY TO GET IN CLOSE AND DESTROY ME!!!!!"
And there you go; my fate is sealed and my future was foretold in the 3rd or 5th grade.
Come to think of it, maybe I did learn something!
I am not certain why they taught us this. It wasn't exactly something I could use and it really hasn't helped me develop socially as an individual. Granted, it was quite the conversation starter that one time I found myself on a reservation trying to sell firewater to the locals.
Actually, NO, that never ever ever ever happened. It wouldn't happen. So, I am not entirely certain why they taught us this.
I just remember seeing the picture so clearly in my textbook. It was just a copy in black and white of a wood carving, or etching, or whatever crazy zany and exciting new way artists have come up with to avoid using a brush on canvas the way art was meant to be made!
Yeah, I have no idea what I'm talking about. My experience in painting pretty much stopped at those water colors where you just put water on the page and the segments in the pre-painted picture turned whatever color they were meant to be. The only way it was possible to mess one of those "paintings" up was to use actual paint or even crayons on the picture.
I messed those up, a lot.
So I am not so much of an artist.
- Musically; yes
- rambling out my thoughts; kind of
- video editing; that's my job
- any other medium that involves physical skill, creative patience and an imagination that I can express with a brush or clay; no, not so much.
So, why did I have to learn this art form in 3rd or 5th grade social studies? Well I didn't; Nobody learns ART in SOCIAL STUDIES silly! What are you thinking? All I said was that I saw a picture in my textbook and then I got off point.
Wayyyyy off point as a matter of fact.
I was really trying to just talk about the Indian in the deer suit. Of course, if I put it that way, it's as if I think he was saying to the deer for a few weeks while it was locked up in a well,
"It puts the crushed berries and oils on it's skin or else it gets the bucket of water again...."
Except he probably said it in Cherokee or something like that.
No, in fact, forget that the guy was an Indian and that he was wearing a skin that some creature was previously using to keep it's insides, well, inside.
The thing is that this was a person using a skin to win the hearts and minds of another species so he could get in close and destroy it!
So, with that point finally made, I was cleaning my house recently... I was getting rid of some old things that we just don't need anymore when I came across some of my daughters old bath towels.
They were the really cute kind that she can wear over her head and then wrap around her body. One looked like a puppy dog and the other a butterfly.
At that moment, the picture of the Indian in the deer suit, stalking other deer of which he was ready to pounce upon and kill, popped into my mind for the first time since the 3rd or 5th grade.
"OH MY GOD!!!!" I thought quite loudly to myself.
"MY CHILD (still very loud) WORE THESE CUTE TOWELS SO THAT SHE COULD WIN MY HEART AND MIND ONLY TO GET IN CLOSE AND DESTROY ME!!!!!"
And there you go; my fate is sealed and my future was foretold in the 3rd or 5th grade.
Come to think of it, maybe I did learn something!
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
The Pool Dolphin
I recently played pool in a “friendly tournament” with a group of twenty-somethings. It was the second time in as many weeks that I played with this group and probably only the fourth time I've played pool in the last year.
I'm not really that good at pool, but I can play and I can sink balls, other than the cue ball, from time to time.
This is a really great bunch of guys. The majority of them are war veterans with fascinating stories to tell; mostly about women they really enjoyed meeting in Thailand and places like that.
They call me “kid” because I'm so much younger than them. I call them “twenty-somethings” because they are all at least twenty-something years older than me. They DO NOT know I call them twenty-somethings.
The first time I played these guys I actually won the tournament, but that was more of my partners fault than mine. However, the last time I lost in the semi-final. We played three games and my partner scratched on the eight ball twice. Once in the third round because he “meant to do that” and wanted to blow everyone away in later rounds and finally in the third round because “there's something wrong with this damned table.”
All of these guys are seasoned pool players and when they make a mistake, they often do it intentionally. They either miss on purpose so that the other team has a bad shot, or they miss or even scratch so they can hustle the other players later. What I find hilarious about this is that when I make a mistake, which is quite par for the course with me, they think I am a pool shark trying to mislead them. They cannot believe that someone who sank a ball on one shot can suck that badly on the next. Well, I can.
I am here to tell you now, I am no pool shark. I am more of a pool dolphin; I can do some tricks, but mostly I'm in it for the fish.... That's not really where I meant to go with that but, I saw an out and I took it.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Lost in thought...
On such a day of reflection I find myself focused on my daughter.
I cannot believe how much the world has changed in Eleven years. I cannot believe how much my own life has changed in that time.
I look at my daughter and want so much to give her the childhood I had, but I cannot. She is growing up in a world that, although I am living in it with her, I cannot truly comprehend.
I am grateful that she is unaware of the changes and that what I see as burdensome or what I may fear or find stress within, she sees as no big deal; it is every day life. So much innocence has been lost in just daily living in the past eleven years, but she does not see what she is missing.
I think of all of the families who lost loved ones on this day and I find myself cherishing the time I have with my little girl. I probably appreciate it more than I used to while I hurt for those who lost such precious moments all those years ago.
As a people we have picked up.
As a people we are moving on.
As a people we are still healing in so many ways.
But we still fear...
I hope the world she grows up in is better that mine. I cannot imagine it will be but that is only because I saw a different world as a child.
I know my parents felt this way about raising me during the "cold war" and I guess we turned out okay?
I pray for my child every day.
Today I am lost in thought over the experience we all shared eleven years ago that helped me realize that I must appreciate more who I have before me and the time I have with them.
I cannot believe how much the world has changed in Eleven years. I cannot believe how much my own life has changed in that time.
I look at my daughter and want so much to give her the childhood I had, but I cannot. She is growing up in a world that, although I am living in it with her, I cannot truly comprehend.
I am grateful that she is unaware of the changes and that what I see as burdensome or what I may fear or find stress within, she sees as no big deal; it is every day life. So much innocence has been lost in just daily living in the past eleven years, but she does not see what she is missing.
I think of all of the families who lost loved ones on this day and I find myself cherishing the time I have with my little girl. I probably appreciate it more than I used to while I hurt for those who lost such precious moments all those years ago.
As a people we have picked up.
As a people we are moving on.
As a people we are still healing in so many ways.
But we still fear...
I hope the world she grows up in is better that mine. I cannot imagine it will be but that is only because I saw a different world as a child.
I know my parents felt this way about raising me during the "cold war" and I guess we turned out okay?
I pray for my child every day.
Today I am lost in thought over the experience we all shared eleven years ago that helped me realize that I must appreciate more who I have before me and the time I have with them.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Silly Words
As a representative of my people, speaking to those of you learning English, “We're (not were) sorry!”
The English language can be a bit annoying what with “There, they're, their” and “Two, too, to” and so on and so on (and doobie doobie doobie). And that's just the homophones. Yes, the English language is “homophonic” and I am so sorry to those of you just now learning this.
But then there are all of the words with more than one meaning. THE HOMONYMS!!!! These can also be homophones, or even Homographs, Polysemes or Capitonyms.... you know, like bow, anchor, Polish vs. polish, etc.... IT'S nuts!
I've been speaking this language for the better part of 41 years and I am still confused.
What brought this tirade on you may be asking. Well....
As we were driving on some back country roads recently, my lovely child saw some cows in the field and belted out “Daddy, look at those baby cows!!!”
Being the ultimately boring yet surprisingly educational Daddy that I am I said something like “Oh very cute baby. And what do we call baby cows?”
As if I had flipped my lid, she looked at me quite seriously in my rear view mirror and replied “Baby cows Daddy, we call them baby cows.”
Dammit, she was right!!!! They are baby cows and should be called such. I was going for “calves” of course, but those are freakin' legs!
How many foreign men have been knocked unconscious for walking up to a beautiful girl on the beach and paying her the compliment of “you have the most lovely baby cows!”
I feel for you foreigners. I am sorry for what you have to endure. Thank you for your attempts to learn my language.
Oh yes, and for future reference, once a baby cow is weaned, they're called “weaners.” Yup... another homophonic word. You may now wish to look up “double entendre.”
Friday, September 7, 2012
So I LIE! It's for your own good.
Hypothetically, I'm sitting in my favorite chair. I'm comfy. I'd love to say something like "the game is on" but it's probably more like "Pawn Stars is on." Life is good.
When this happens....
"Hey Hon?"
"Yes Dear?"
"Watcha' thinkin'?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yup, nothing."
"How is that possible?"
"Idunno."
"No seriously... what are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"Surely you're thinking about something."
"I wasn't before, but now I can't stop thinking about how close you are to my face.."
And then it gets ugly.
Now, let's face it. We all know I was "thinking." I can't not THINK. I can't "clear my mind of all thoughts," as the zen Buddhist recommended I do, WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT!!!
But see, my mind is like this ping pong ball experiment in Nuclear Fission. Yes the quantum mechanics that make up my thought flow are obnoxious.
I actually was thinking:
The guy just brought in an antique cup and wants to sell it for $3000. It was appraised at $3,500. He ended up selling it to them for $1,500. He's an idiot. I know many idiots. Well, some I don't really "know." I just see them every day in traffic as I drive into work. I can't believe I see these people every day and I don't know who they are. I see them more than I see my own family; HELL more than I see my own child! Well, that's on a daily basis mind you, not measuring the time I spend with the people in traffic based on the minutes I see my child. But I rarely see my own child five days in a row and I see these people all the time. Divorce sucks. Whatever happened to that blond girl in the yellow Miata? She was cute, but she smoked... and that Miata... what a joke. Man, I remember when my friend and I rode around in his Geo Metro. The thing only had three cylinders. THREE!!! When we were going up hill we had to turn the AC off so it wouldn't stall out. We were both too big to ever be in that car together. Man, I remember thinking I was big then. I wish I was only "that big" now. I wonder what I should make for dinner? Probably something lite. I'll make a salad. That'll be lite. And I'll put Ritz Crackers, cheese, ham, turkey, chicken patty, French's onions... God I love those onions. What? What is this lunatic gonna sell that book for? That's less than half of what he wanted. Hmmm.... I wonder what she wants.... Save her some time... just say "nothing."
And that is just an example of like one minute of thinking. The ping pong balls are all over the place and the mousetraps are throwing them left and right.
NOBODY wants me to explain all of that stuff when they ask "watcha' thinkin'?" Really, NOBODY. Lord knows, I've tried. Eventually the person just walks away disgusted with me for even trying.
So I am left with a moral challenge. I can tell the truth and say exactly what is on my mind or I can lie and say "nothing." Just trust me on this. Have faith in me that I am protecting you from some rampant ping pong ball. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to put all of those ping pong balls on their respective mouse traps in my mind? Well, it was probably easier than those guys in the video, but STILL!!!
I could just say something like "I was thinking about how beautiful you are" but that would probably get me one of those "Ohhhh Bullsh*t!" type smacks to the head...
When this happens....
"Hey Hon?"
"Yes Dear?"
"Watcha' thinkin'?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Yup, nothing."
"How is that possible?"
"Idunno."
"No seriously... what are you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
"Surely you're thinking about something."
"I wasn't before, but now I can't stop thinking about how close you are to my face.."
And then it gets ugly.
Now, let's face it. We all know I was "thinking." I can't not THINK. I can't "clear my mind of all thoughts," as the zen Buddhist recommended I do, WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT!!!
But see, my mind is like this ping pong ball experiment in Nuclear Fission. Yes the quantum mechanics that make up my thought flow are obnoxious.
I actually was thinking:
The guy just brought in an antique cup and wants to sell it for $3000. It was appraised at $3,500. He ended up selling it to them for $1,500. He's an idiot. I know many idiots. Well, some I don't really "know." I just see them every day in traffic as I drive into work. I can't believe I see these people every day and I don't know who they are. I see them more than I see my own family; HELL more than I see my own child! Well, that's on a daily basis mind you, not measuring the time I spend with the people in traffic based on the minutes I see my child. But I rarely see my own child five days in a row and I see these people all the time. Divorce sucks. Whatever happened to that blond girl in the yellow Miata? She was cute, but she smoked... and that Miata... what a joke. Man, I remember when my friend and I rode around in his Geo Metro. The thing only had three cylinders. THREE!!! When we were going up hill we had to turn the AC off so it wouldn't stall out. We were both too big to ever be in that car together. Man, I remember thinking I was big then. I wish I was only "that big" now. I wonder what I should make for dinner? Probably something lite. I'll make a salad. That'll be lite. And I'll put Ritz Crackers, cheese, ham, turkey, chicken patty, French's onions... God I love those onions. What? What is this lunatic gonna sell that book for? That's less than half of what he wanted. Hmmm.... I wonder what she wants.... Save her some time... just say "nothing."
And that is just an example of like one minute of thinking. The ping pong balls are all over the place and the mousetraps are throwing them left and right.
NOBODY wants me to explain all of that stuff when they ask "watcha' thinkin'?" Really, NOBODY. Lord knows, I've tried. Eventually the person just walks away disgusted with me for even trying.
So I am left with a moral challenge. I can tell the truth and say exactly what is on my mind or I can lie and say "nothing." Just trust me on this. Have faith in me that I am protecting you from some rampant ping pong ball. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to put all of those ping pong balls on their respective mouse traps in my mind? Well, it was probably easier than those guys in the video, but STILL!!!
I could just say something like "I was thinking about how beautiful you are" but that would probably get me one of those "Ohhhh Bullsh*t!" type smacks to the head...
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Im overwhelmed by, STUFF!
I do not have a large house.
I do not want a large house.
My house isn't tiny either; it is perfect for me and all of my stuff.
I had a really big house once and didn't have enough stuff to fill it, so we had to buy more stuff, which was ridiculous. Then I pretty much got half the stuff... but that's a different story.
Anyway, in my current not large/ not small/ just right house, one of the stuff I appear to own, is actually some of my daughters stuff. It is her vanity.
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with girls and their stuff, a vanity is a somewhat uncomfortable and not so practical, but “pretty” desk with an attached mirror that you use to look at yourself when getting ready for something that you wish to look prettier than normal(?) for. You are absolutely NOT supposed to use it as a desk for writing or coloring on.
Essentially, it is a bathroom counter without plumbing, or a bathroom, and it is portable. I always thought “Vanity” was something people had within themselves. I also thought that song was about me (inside joke... as in a joke inside of me).
So, this morning, it was somewhat dark in my house as it is overcast outside and in my daughters room her curtains were drawn. When you walk from the kitchen in my house towards my room and bathroom, you walk straight towards her room. Through her open door, you see the mirror of her vanity.
This morning, I could just barely make out the reflection of a face in the vanity mirror. I froze and stared. Other than the dog, I was supposed to be the only one in the house. How did someone get into my house? Damn sweet friendly dog!!! The face was somewhat turned looking towards the door and by the reflection, I could tell that they were standing right next to the door waiting for me to enter.
I slowly approached my daughters room. I grabbed some of my stuff to aid me in my advance. The stuff I grabbed was a sword, which, if you are more familiar with things like vanities, is essentially a sharp pointy stick used to greet people and express your concerns about their proximity to your being!
I slowly approached my daughters room. I grabbed some of my stuff to aid me in my advance. The stuff I grabbed was a sword, which, if you are more familiar with things like vanities, is essentially a sharp pointy stick used to greet people and express your concerns about their proximity to your being!
I advanced, ready to greet whomever was was waiting for me. The dog seemed very thrilled with the shiny pointy stick I had retrieved from its mount high up on the wall. She was useless.
As if I were Cato I pounced into the child's room, and yes, I did in fact yell “HI-YAH!!!”
As it turns out, one of the “half of stuff” items that reside with me now is a four foot tall bear that typically sits lovingly in a rocking a chair by her door, but for some reason, my girl has apparently, quite recently, left it in more of a standing position. It is a scary bear.... it is a hairy bear (ahhhh, School House Rock how I miss you so). It was the face reflected in the mirror.
Anyway, the bear lived... the vanity makes less sense to me... the dog enjoyed the show... I've had too much coffee.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
TOO MANY CHOICES!!!
I went to a salon today to get my haircut.
I am not a grumpy customer.
I am not a picky customer.
I am just not good at having a clue when it comes to getting my haircut.
"Do you want me to thin it out on top?"
"I don't want my hair to thin out." It is in fact thinning enough on its own.
"Do you want the bangs layered."
"I don't know; I just know I want the bangs."
"Do you want it cut straight over the ears?"
"YES" I knew the answer to that one.
"Do you want it tapered or straight?"
"Where?"
"In the back."
"What back?"
"The back of your neck."
"I don't want hair on the back of my neck."
Then I fell asleep. When I woke up she handed me a mirror, spun me around in a chair and showed me the back of my head. I only see the back of my head once every six weeks or so. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I always say "looks good, thank you." I guess one day I'll know it when I see it.
I really do not know what to ask for in a haircut, ever. I am so ignorant to the ways of hair wizardry.
I have a hard enough time brushing my own child's hair without snapping her head back and making her stare up permanently when I get the brush caught in those knots that I've doused with "anti tangle spray."
I was raised going to military barber shops. I would walk in, say "I would like a haircut" and then I would sit in a chair and get a haircut. Sometimes I got to sit on a little pony that the barber would put in the seat to boost me up. It wasn't a real pony... dammit.
Anyway, the militant lack of choice in haircuts that I was raised with really scarred my ability to pick out a haircut for myself.
In the 80's I was finally able to go to a place called a "salon" and I could show the girl a picture of what I wanted and she'd say "okay, let's do it" and she'd cut my hair into something that looked nothing like the picture. The only time they ever got it right was when I brought in a Dokken album and pointed to George Lynches head and said "that one!"
I got a mullet.
The worst hair cut EVER was in late '88 when I went to a campus salon, pointed to a picture and walked out with a poofy mushroom looking type haircut.
At that very moment I came to accept a few things:
I started going to a barber again in the late 90's and early 00's (is "00's" right?) and it was easier for me. I was happy. It was awesome too, because while I sat in this barber shop full of macho military paraphernalia surrounded by men talking about manly things, this old guy would cut my hair and then throw a hot towel on the back of my neck and then massage my neck. Only rarely was there a lot of leather being worn and the Village People playing in the background. It was an all around manly time!
Salons are nice, but dainty. Also, there's that awkward thing when I'm getting a haircut where the stylist always tends to lean on me. With my height in the chair and them standing next to me, I feel weird when they lean in and get their balance by putting their lower abdomen region on my shoulder or on my arm. Really, it's unnerving.
It's hard to decide where to go... manly massage place... awkward lean place...
But no matter where I go, whenever I am asked "how do you want your hair cut" I understand completely how most women I've known feel when they take their car to the mechanic.
Ahhh who am I kidding. I feel the same way at the mechanic.
I am not a grumpy customer.
I am not a picky customer.
I am just not good at having a clue when it comes to getting my haircut.
"Do you want me to thin it out on top?"
"I don't want my hair to thin out." It is in fact thinning enough on its own.
"Do you want the bangs layered."
"I don't know; I just know I want the bangs."
"Do you want it cut straight over the ears?"
"YES" I knew the answer to that one.
"Do you want it tapered or straight?"
"Where?"
"In the back."
"What back?"
"The back of your neck."
"I don't want hair on the back of my neck."
Then I fell asleep. When I woke up she handed me a mirror, spun me around in a chair and showed me the back of my head. I only see the back of my head once every six weeks or so. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I always say "looks good, thank you." I guess one day I'll know it when I see it.
I really do not know what to ask for in a haircut, ever. I am so ignorant to the ways of hair wizardry.
I have a hard enough time brushing my own child's hair without snapping her head back and making her stare up permanently when I get the brush caught in those knots that I've doused with "anti tangle spray."
I was raised going to military barber shops. I would walk in, say "I would like a haircut" and then I would sit in a chair and get a haircut. Sometimes I got to sit on a little pony that the barber would put in the seat to boost me up. It wasn't a real pony... dammit.
Anyway, the militant lack of choice in haircuts that I was raised with really scarred my ability to pick out a haircut for myself.
In the 80's I was finally able to go to a place called a "salon" and I could show the girl a picture of what I wanted and she'd say "okay, let's do it" and she'd cut my hair into something that looked nothing like the picture. The only time they ever got it right was when I brought in a Dokken album and pointed to George Lynches head and said "that one!"
I got a mullet.
The worst hair cut EVER was in late '88 when I went to a campus salon, pointed to a picture and walked out with a poofy mushroom looking type haircut.
At that very moment I came to accept a few things:
- I am no good at asking for a haircut
- I have no concept of what looks good on my head
- It is the stylists hair that is on my head and I just wear it
- It will always grow back
- Aging may one day nullify that last point
- Apparently as a child my parents left me in a pasture and two cows licked my head and left two spots in my hair where my hair grows in a kind of hurricane type pattern
- It may have been one cow twice but regardless, I have two cow-licks on my head.
- Thanks to the cows, I can only part my hair ONE WAY
I started going to a barber again in the late 90's and early 00's (is "00's" right?) and it was easier for me. I was happy. It was awesome too, because while I sat in this barber shop full of macho military paraphernalia surrounded by men talking about manly things, this old guy would cut my hair and then throw a hot towel on the back of my neck and then massage my neck. Only rarely was there a lot of leather being worn and the Village People playing in the background. It was an all around manly time!
Salons are nice, but dainty. Also, there's that awkward thing when I'm getting a haircut where the stylist always tends to lean on me. With my height in the chair and them standing next to me, I feel weird when they lean in and get their balance by putting their lower abdomen region on my shoulder or on my arm. Really, it's unnerving.
It's hard to decide where to go... manly massage place... awkward lean place...
But no matter where I go, whenever I am asked "how do you want your hair cut" I understand completely how most women I've known feel when they take their car to the mechanic.
Ahhh who am I kidding. I feel the same way at the mechanic.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
I'm not sure where she learns these things.
I just spent thirty minutes or so walking around my yard with my little girl. We were looking for bugs.
See, yesterday she and some friends had a lemonade stand on the curb. Actually, it was a strawberry/ kiwi crystal light stand, but for the 7 year old set, any table with any fluid up for sale on the side of the road for strangers is a "lemonade stand!"
So there was a slight profit made yesterday. Granted, of the 13 drinks sold at a dollar a pop (I let them choose the price; they were a little overzealous). Only four were sold to non-family types.
The kids agreed that half of the money made would go to charity and the other half would go to the mystically magical place known only as The DOLLAR STORE!!!! I used to be humbled and maybe even embarrassed to go there when I was foolish and young.... Now I am so happy to be there with my child!!!
One of yesterday's purchases was a "bug catching kit" which is basically a large magnifying glass with a transparent handle for holding captured bugs that are caught with the plastic tweezers stored in the handle.
Every bug we saw was very quick and got away; ants, centipedes, spiders, crickets, ladybugs.... She wanted me to try to catch a fly and I said "who do you think I am? Mr. Miyagi?". She ignored me and moved on.
We did almost catch one of those freakish spider-cricket things that are so prevelant in dark places and nightmares. When I tried to catch one and it jumped at my face my daughter screamed like a big girl. Of course, she was across the yard from me, didn't see the spider-cricket, didn't know it was jumping at me, didn't see any of this happen and it might have been me screaming. Or the dog! YEAH, I bet It was TOTALLY the dog.
After all of our efforts, we had no luck in finding any bugs to put in our little containment handle.
However, there is a slight chance that the child learned that if you hold a magnifying glass in the sun and direct the beam of light to and old leaf on the driveway, the leaf might get all smokey and charred.
Ever so slight of a chance that she learned that.
See, yesterday she and some friends had a lemonade stand on the curb. Actually, it was a strawberry/ kiwi crystal light stand, but for the 7 year old set, any table with any fluid up for sale on the side of the road for strangers is a "lemonade stand!"
So there was a slight profit made yesterday. Granted, of the 13 drinks sold at a dollar a pop (I let them choose the price; they were a little overzealous). Only four were sold to non-family types.
The kids agreed that half of the money made would go to charity and the other half would go to the mystically magical place known only as The DOLLAR STORE!!!! I used to be humbled and maybe even embarrassed to go there when I was foolish and young.... Now I am so happy to be there with my child!!!
One of yesterday's purchases was a "bug catching kit" which is basically a large magnifying glass with a transparent handle for holding captured bugs that are caught with the plastic tweezers stored in the handle.
Every bug we saw was very quick and got away; ants, centipedes, spiders, crickets, ladybugs.... She wanted me to try to catch a fly and I said "who do you think I am? Mr. Miyagi?". She ignored me and moved on.
We did almost catch one of those freakish spider-cricket things that are so prevelant in dark places and nightmares. When I tried to catch one and it jumped at my face my daughter screamed like a big girl. Of course, she was across the yard from me, didn't see the spider-cricket, didn't know it was jumping at me, didn't see any of this happen and it might have been me screaming. Or the dog! YEAH, I bet It was TOTALLY the dog.
After all of our efforts, we had no luck in finding any bugs to put in our little containment handle.
However, there is a slight chance that the child learned that if you hold a magnifying glass in the sun and direct the beam of light to and old leaf on the driveway, the leaf might get all smokey and charred.
Ever so slight of a chance that she learned that.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Damn Dog.
I was lying in bed.
I was peacefully asleep.
I've been sleeping later lately.
That's a good thing.
But, as it turned out (as it almost always turns out) the dog had some concerns. So, she nudged me a few times and I ignored her. But when I rolled over to ignore she opted to use her "ultimate weapon," which is pretty much her chewing on herself relentlessly.
It worked.
It's actually amazing how well that works. Seriously, not just for dogs. When I was in elementary school there was this kid named Lonnie or something like that (maybe Chuck) who, when the teacher would ignore him, would just lick his arm to the point of giving himself a hickey. He'd totally get the teachers attention. I don't know what ever happened to him. He kind of disappeared from school after a while.
So anyway, I got up earlier than I was prepared to.
I followed the dog into the kitchen, tail wagging frantically all the while (hers not mine). She led me to her food bowl and water bowl, both of which were empty. I gave her some breakfast which is very exciting for her. Essentially she eats twice a day and both meals are breakfast and as we all know, breakfast for dinner is cool! I also filled up her water bowl.
She stood over her bowls watching every move I made.
When I was done, I swear to God she looked up at me and shrugged her shoulders as if to say "That's it? That didn't seem too hard. K, thaaaaanks" and then she turned and went and climbed into my spot in the bed.
I honestly believe that she did this just to see if she could. And what's really frustrating is that if I wanted to get up early one day to try to irritate her by waking her up early for absolutely NO REASON she would be thrilled!!!
Soooooo, I'm up. The dog and child are happily sleeping.
I guess that's not such a bad thing. Right?
Enjoy your Saturday folks.
I was peacefully asleep.
I've been sleeping later lately.
That's a good thing.
But, as it turned out (as it almost always turns out) the dog had some concerns. So, she nudged me a few times and I ignored her. But when I rolled over to ignore she opted to use her "ultimate weapon," which is pretty much her chewing on herself relentlessly.
It worked.
It's actually amazing how well that works. Seriously, not just for dogs. When I was in elementary school there was this kid named Lonnie or something like that (maybe Chuck) who, when the teacher would ignore him, would just lick his arm to the point of giving himself a hickey. He'd totally get the teachers attention. I don't know what ever happened to him. He kind of disappeared from school after a while.
So anyway, I got up earlier than I was prepared to.
I followed the dog into the kitchen, tail wagging frantically all the while (hers not mine). She led me to her food bowl and water bowl, both of which were empty. I gave her some breakfast which is very exciting for her. Essentially she eats twice a day and both meals are breakfast and as we all know, breakfast for dinner is cool! I also filled up her water bowl.
She stood over her bowls watching every move I made.
When I was done, I swear to God she looked up at me and shrugged her shoulders as if to say "That's it? That didn't seem too hard. K, thaaaaanks" and then she turned and went and climbed into my spot in the bed.
I honestly believe that she did this just to see if she could. And what's really frustrating is that if I wanted to get up early one day to try to irritate her by waking her up early for absolutely NO REASON she would be thrilled!!!
Soooooo, I'm up. The dog and child are happily sleeping.
I guess that's not such a bad thing. Right?
Enjoy your Saturday folks.
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