No music sad enough to serenade our sad farewell
You gave me love
For which I have no use
The warmth we shared
We exchange for a freezing winter of isolation
In the end I feel things I should have felt before
No one anywhere cares at all...
And so adroitly I keep it to myself...
Almost...
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
My Equanimity Meter
How best to describe it? I have a young relationship (not sure what kind of relationship it is... which is part of what makes it so incredibly special) with someone and she's very important to me and a couple nights ago I think I had a psychotic episode wherein I panicked because I hadn't been hearing from her quite so often as usual. I was talking about the incident with my mother and she said something along the lines of... whatever you do... don't be needy. And I said... it's one of the most puzzling characteristics of my life that there are several behaviors everyone knows I should avoid like neediness and codependency and insecurity and yet in all of these I have been blessed with unrivaled proficiency. What useless gifts.
But I maintain... one mistake ought not be too harmful so long as I learn from it and do better... so the next day I determined to do better and not only that but to measure my progress with the implementation of an equanimity meter which amounts to a scale from 1 to 10 designed to register how satisfied I am with life on any given day.
Today has been a perfect 10! Messages from my young lady of interest are back to their normal prolificacy and the Jets miraculously won in the last 40 seconds of their game (for the third week in a row) and my blood pressure is down and I used the exercise bike at the Y for 40 minutes and it's snowing and I just ate a yummy pizza... and I have procured my turkey for Thanksgiving... for the kittens... of course.
But I maintain... one mistake ought not be too harmful so long as I learn from it and do better... so the next day I determined to do better and not only that but to measure my progress with the implementation of an equanimity meter which amounts to a scale from 1 to 10 designed to register how satisfied I am with life on any given day.
Today has been a perfect 10! Messages from my young lady of interest are back to their normal prolificacy and the Jets miraculously won in the last 40 seconds of their game (for the third week in a row) and my blood pressure is down and I used the exercise bike at the Y for 40 minutes and it's snowing and I just ate a yummy pizza... and I have procured my turkey for Thanksgiving... for the kittens... of course.
Friday, November 12, 2010
How My Friend Helped Me Kill Charlton Heston
Originally Written in 2008
I guess it all began in 1986. It was January. January 27th and I was trying to do schoolwork at home. I was doing homeschool that year and while I tried to focus on the work in front of me I was listening to the radio and there was coverage of the space shuttle launch that had been postponed yet again. I thought to myself that all the consternation over the seemingly endless precautions was shallow. I thought one day something disastrous is going to happen and those people will wish they'd been a little more understanding about precautions. The next day seven astronauts died.
Then in 2003 I got a new job and came to work on my first day wearing the bow tie I'd been presented with along with the rest of my uniform. I was intent on learning and remembering my responsibilities and failed to notice I was the only one wearing this silly looking accessory until a pugnacious young lady named Jackie asked me about it and bluntly told me to take it off. I ruefully complied. This incident was fun to reminisce about and always provoked amusement from my coworkers when retold. One day I asked if they'd seen the skit on Saturday Night Live about Senator Paul Simon explaining why he wore a bow tie after every question during his campaign to be nominated as a presidential candidate about 20 years ago. None of them had ever heard of this Senator. Just as well. He died the next day.
Then earlier this year while playing chess I asked my opponent if he'd ever seen the movie Searching for Bobby Fischer. We talked about what a strange fellow Fischer had become... anti~semetic and eccentric. Refusing to engage in any chess tournament without all manner of variations until the game of chess is hardly recognizable. On the day following this conversation he died.
Then last Friday one of my dearest friends was over and while making dinner she asked what movie I had in mind and I told her The Bible and she asked who was in it and I mentioned George C. Scott. She was guessing maybe it was Charlton Heston, but I told her she was probably thinking of The Ten Commandments. Mr. Heston passed away on the following evening.
I'm not doing it on purpose.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
My Black Friday Blog
I'm the kind of vegetarian that makes sure my kitten has gourmet sliced turkey on Thanksgiving day.
Other than that I was not likely to have much of a holiday this year, but then a friend from work invited me to her house. She knows I don't have any family in this area. She reassured me that my diet would not be inconvenient and that the kids in the family would not have their Turkey Day spoiled by the presence of a stranger.
So I arrived in the afternoon at Kelly's house and was hooked up with a White Russian in a matter of moments. Which was excellent. But I am a lightweight. And I was properly buzzed in no time. And the second White Russian contained at least twice as much alcohol as the first... with the result that it took me right around five hours to sober up once I'd finished drinking. Kelly had long since gone to work and so I was playing poker with her family... and doing quite well... which is probably inadvisable when you don't really know anyone. So I went all in and lost all my chips so I could go sit on the couch and watch TV until I was okay to drive.
Once I'd gotten out on the road I called a friend that I had never met in person who happens to live in that area and either she graciously invited me to come see the work she's doing on her home or I somehow coerced her into inviting me to come see the work she's doing on her home. Anyway... I'm glad that happened because if it hadn't I would not yet realize how tiny she is. I had imagined previously that she was maybe 5 ft. 9 inches tall, but it turns out she's more around 5'6 which is perfect for her and somehow makes her seem more delicate in a way that makes me feel protective... though I'm probably the only person that was in any serious danger insofar as her dog has manifested in the past a far more aggressive inclination to protect her than any situation I can imagine would require me to demonstrate. Now I have to put the last sentence in bold font just to illustrate how I'm not quite so good a writer as I pretend to be.
Anyway... that visit... unplanned and unexpected... was both innocent and restorative. What do I mean? It's hard to explain. Difficult to share, for it deserves to be hidden away within... too sacred for common consideration... and yet there is nothing common about those who read my blogs... and I really want to commit this memory to writing... to capture the spirit of it if I can into words and phrases.
She showed me the work she's doing on her house. Would have been educational for a more astute visitor, but I feel no more capable of caulking or plastering now than I did before. I think the important thing was to comprehend how extensive her projects are... and how demanding. I asked questions, but was interrupting too often though she was quick to remind me we were likely a little nervous. She showed me an invention she'd designed and I was highly impressed as much by the work involved as by the usefulness of the device. When one suffocates as much in a quagmire of procrastination as I do... it's inspiring to see what others can do when focused and determined.
She has a beautiful collection of swords but no Excalibur... no sword in the stone... wherefore I mentioned I would have to wait until some other time to reveal my real identity.
We watched a movie. She let me choose and it was an easy selection to make. "Pieces of April" about a radical girl who tries like crazy to make a Thanksgiving dinner that will redeem herself in the eyes of her family while this same family is nearly petrified with the prospect of what disaster awaits them as they make the eventful journey to her home.
It's the first time I've ever met someone in person through MySpace. I had this feeling that I knew her pretty well and that mostly what remained was to meet her, but then once we met I realized it surely doesn't work that way at all. You can correspond for months and then meet however spontaneously and that's when you're reminded that a person, an interesting person, is far far too fascinating to understand so easily. Although isn't it true that the degree to which you get to know someone does not depend exclusively upon how interesting that person is, but partially upon how much interest you take in that person? The first hug and the last were splendid, but they could not compare with the hugs in between.
She was thoughtful in many ways. Including the gesture of messaging me to be sure I'd arrived home safely.
But I did not go to sleep last night. I stayed awake watching movies on cable until it was time to venture back out into the night and to see for myself what this Black Friday business is all about. At about 4:30 I found myself in the parking lot, filled to capacity with cars, at Best Buy. But the store was not open. The line of people waiting for business to commence extended all the way from the front door and across two parking lots. Discarded Starbucks cups were strewn without interruption all the way along the curb. I would venture to guess I was in line with between 500 and 800 people but I really had no way to make an accurate count without losing my place. People were not nearly as bad as you would think from stories you've heard. It was annoying to be so crowded once we got inside, but there were no outbreaks of shoving or fighting that I noticed.
That happens a lot... that stories are told in such a way and with such frequency that I fear an inaccurate perception is developed. I notice this with people's idea of New Yorkers, supposedly the rudest people in the United States. How do you think that reputation originated? Here's one possibility. Let's say in 1975 that a North Carolina carpenter named Brian takes his family to Manhatten for a summer vacation and so they're trying to find their way to the Statue of Liberty and they ask a pedestrian named Abdul "How do we get to the Statue of Liberty?" and Abdul just keeps walking. Because he's rude... or maybe because he doesn't speak English... or let's say instead of Abdul... it's Richard that's walking past them and they solicit information from him, while he speaks English... he's never been exposed before to a southern drawl. People... unless you've heard it, you won't appreciate how impossible it is to understand certain varieties of the southern drawl. After repeating their inquiry for directions six times Richard says "Okay, I'm sorry, but I really can't understand what you're asking and I can't be late for this appointment. Good luck." That could seem rude for the simple reason that it implies that Brian and his family from North Carolina do not speak coherent English... and they would be insulted.
All I'm saying is that when you're in line on Black Friday you can probably talk with and joke with the other people in line. I did. And when you're in New York City and you ask for directions... don't be surprised if you get the information you're asking for in exactly the same fashion that you would anywhere else in the English speaking world. I've seen it happen. But you don't hear about that, do you? Who wants to hear about the normal people you interacted with on your vacation?
And then after shopping, I went home and fell asleep. Upon waking I began making spaghetti when there was a knock on the door. Elder Maughan of the Church of Latter Day Saints of Jesus Christ. He and Elder Shultz invited me to come to their church down the street so I went with them and they talked to me about how I was feeling the presence of the Holy Spirit in my heart and they asked me if I wanted to be baptized and because I wanted to hurry things up, I went along with it. I think it's unfair to take advantage of a skeptic when he's separated from his spaghetti.
Other than that I was not likely to have much of a holiday this year, but then a friend from work invited me to her house. She knows I don't have any family in this area. She reassured me that my diet would not be inconvenient and that the kids in the family would not have their Turkey Day spoiled by the presence of a stranger.
So I arrived in the afternoon at Kelly's house and was hooked up with a White Russian in a matter of moments. Which was excellent. But I am a lightweight. And I was properly buzzed in no time. And the second White Russian contained at least twice as much alcohol as the first... with the result that it took me right around five hours to sober up once I'd finished drinking. Kelly had long since gone to work and so I was playing poker with her family... and doing quite well... which is probably inadvisable when you don't really know anyone. So I went all in and lost all my chips so I could go sit on the couch and watch TV until I was okay to drive.
Once I'd gotten out on the road I called a friend that I had never met in person who happens to live in that area and either she graciously invited me to come see the work she's doing on her home or I somehow coerced her into inviting me to come see the work she's doing on her home. Anyway... I'm glad that happened because if it hadn't I would not yet realize how tiny she is. I had imagined previously that she was maybe 5 ft. 9 inches tall, but it turns out she's more around 5'6 which is perfect for her and somehow makes her seem more delicate in a way that makes me feel protective... though I'm probably the only person that was in any serious danger insofar as her dog has manifested in the past a far more aggressive inclination to protect her than any situation I can imagine would require me to demonstrate. Now I have to put the last sentence in bold font just to illustrate how I'm not quite so good a writer as I pretend to be.
Anyway... that visit... unplanned and unexpected... was both innocent and restorative. What do I mean? It's hard to explain. Difficult to share, for it deserves to be hidden away within... too sacred for common consideration... and yet there is nothing common about those who read my blogs... and I really want to commit this memory to writing... to capture the spirit of it if I can into words and phrases.
She showed me the work she's doing on her house. Would have been educational for a more astute visitor, but I feel no more capable of caulking or plastering now than I did before. I think the important thing was to comprehend how extensive her projects are... and how demanding. I asked questions, but was interrupting too often though she was quick to remind me we were likely a little nervous. She showed me an invention she'd designed and I was highly impressed as much by the work involved as by the usefulness of the device. When one suffocates as much in a quagmire of procrastination as I do... it's inspiring to see what others can do when focused and determined.
She has a beautiful collection of swords but no Excalibur... no sword in the stone... wherefore I mentioned I would have to wait until some other time to reveal my real identity.
We watched a movie. She let me choose and it was an easy selection to make. "Pieces of April" about a radical girl who tries like crazy to make a Thanksgiving dinner that will redeem herself in the eyes of her family while this same family is nearly petrified with the prospect of what disaster awaits them as they make the eventful journey to her home.
It's the first time I've ever met someone in person through MySpace. I had this feeling that I knew her pretty well and that mostly what remained was to meet her, but then once we met I realized it surely doesn't work that way at all. You can correspond for months and then meet however spontaneously and that's when you're reminded that a person, an interesting person, is far far too fascinating to understand so easily. Although isn't it true that the degree to which you get to know someone does not depend exclusively upon how interesting that person is, but partially upon how much interest you take in that person? The first hug and the last were splendid, but they could not compare with the hugs in between.
She was thoughtful in many ways. Including the gesture of messaging me to be sure I'd arrived home safely.
But I did not go to sleep last night. I stayed awake watching movies on cable until it was time to venture back out into the night and to see for myself what this Black Friday business is all about. At about 4:30 I found myself in the parking lot, filled to capacity with cars, at Best Buy. But the store was not open. The line of people waiting for business to commence extended all the way from the front door and across two parking lots. Discarded Starbucks cups were strewn without interruption all the way along the curb. I would venture to guess I was in line with between 500 and 800 people but I really had no way to make an accurate count without losing my place. People were not nearly as bad as you would think from stories you've heard. It was annoying to be so crowded once we got inside, but there were no outbreaks of shoving or fighting that I noticed.
That happens a lot... that stories are told in such a way and with such frequency that I fear an inaccurate perception is developed. I notice this with people's idea of New Yorkers, supposedly the rudest people in the United States. How do you think that reputation originated? Here's one possibility. Let's say in 1975 that a North Carolina carpenter named Brian takes his family to Manhatten for a summer vacation and so they're trying to find their way to the Statue of Liberty and they ask a pedestrian named Abdul "How do we get to the Statue of Liberty?" and Abdul just keeps walking. Because he's rude... or maybe because he doesn't speak English... or let's say instead of Abdul... it's Richard that's walking past them and they solicit information from him, while he speaks English... he's never been exposed before to a southern drawl. People... unless you've heard it, you won't appreciate how impossible it is to understand certain varieties of the southern drawl. After repeating their inquiry for directions six times Richard says "Okay, I'm sorry, but I really can't understand what you're asking and I can't be late for this appointment. Good luck." That could seem rude for the simple reason that it implies that Brian and his family from North Carolina do not speak coherent English... and they would be insulted.
All I'm saying is that when you're in line on Black Friday you can probably talk with and joke with the other people in line. I did. And when you're in New York City and you ask for directions... don't be surprised if you get the information you're asking for in exactly the same fashion that you would anywhere else in the English speaking world. I've seen it happen. But you don't hear about that, do you? Who wants to hear about the normal people you interacted with on your vacation?
And then after shopping, I went home and fell asleep. Upon waking I began making spaghetti when there was a knock on the door. Elder Maughan of the Church of Latter Day Saints of Jesus Christ. He and Elder Shultz invited me to come to their church down the street so I went with them and they talked to me about how I was feeling the presence of the Holy Spirit in my heart and they asked me if I wanted to be baptized and because I wanted to hurry things up, I went along with it. I think it's unfair to take advantage of a skeptic when he's separated from his spaghetti.
Happiness, Holidays, Hiccups, and Hugs
Originally Written in 2008
I once kept track of how many happy days I could enjoy consecutively without a bad day interrupting my bliss. Funny that my determination to extend the streak motivated me to dismiss setbacks that would otherwise have devastated me. Oh my new car is totaled and my insurance is cancelled? Oh well... I'm not going to let a little thing like that ruin my day!
More practically the secret to happiness comes from recognizing what happiness is and learning how to enjoy it more fully. Recently I allowed myself to get lazy with this. I had a wonderful Halloween and then a day later I experienced a beautiful but sad emotional baptism which inspired me to write my last blog "Dyscombobulated Blues."
In an effort to redo the past, I'm writing a blog I should have written when I was still cheerful prior to the onset of melancholia Sunday morning:
It's No Coincidence
But I happened to be living in New England when she was born in Massachusetts. And we both moved south as children. Then in 2000 we both moved to Washington. So far we were unaware of each other.
In 2007 I discovered her profile on MySpace and she was kind enough to exchange several messages with me and there was something deeply special about her. How she expressed herself and how she nurtured the expressions of others.
Spontaneously we met in person on Thanksgiving Day and the unforgettable magic of that evening is described in My Black Friday Blog which doesn't sound like it would be wonderful from the title, but it truly was.
Because on Thanksgiving we watched a movie about Thanksgiving I had the idea that as close to Christmas as possible we should watch a Christmas movie together and so that's what we did. And then around Easter we were going to watch a Biblical film called The Bible ~ In the Beginning. At first she thought it starred Charlton Heston and. . .
It's No Coincidence
But one day after my explanation that she was probably thinking of The Ten Commandments... Charlton Heston died as described in my blog:
Eventually I imagined we were ready to go out in the world and do something together in public. And she agreed to accompany me on a karaoke adventure, and although we didn't do so on purpose... we settled on a day that happened to be another holiday... this time Halloween wherefore it was incumbent on me to dress up as Elvis. Not surprisingly a festive spirit possessed her as well and she came up with a gorgeous... stunning... 1920's flapper costume.
When I picked her up we compared our cameras and. . .
When I picked her up we compared our cameras and. . .
It's No Coincidence
But we both have Sony Cyber-shots albeit slightly different versions AND we each purchased our cameras approximately if not precisely on the day after Thanksgiving albeit one year apart.
So just as we're arriving at Performance Grill for our karaoke adventure we find ourselves discussing how you can read a book and then be disappointed in the film or you can enjoy the film and be disappointed in the book. One example we used I think was Pet Sematary and another was The Da Vinci Code and of course. . .
So just as we're arriving at Performance Grill for our karaoke adventure we find ourselves discussing how you can read a book and then be disappointed in the film or you can enjoy the film and be disappointed in the book. One example we used I think was Pet Sematary and another was The Da Vinci Code and of course. . .
It's No Coincidence
But upon entering the club I observed the TV over the bar was tuned into TNT which just happened to be broadcasting the 2006 film The Da Vinci Code.
Her name is Jenny. For a long while I addressed her as Alyssa which is the name she uses online. But gradually our relationship evolves from an online correspondence into a multi-dimensional friendship where her first name seems to fit perfectly. And I never use it without proper deference to the reverential connotation implemented by Forrest Gump.
On Halloween Jenny danced with me. And she showed me the apartment where she used to live. And she told me how confrontational she could be with people who parked in her designated spot. And she asked me sweetly if I wouldn't mind stopping at a specific food mart where she could purchase a favorite sinful beverage during the acquisition of which she manifested a most adorable spirit of mischief. A variety of mischief so poignant that it could only be inspired by the sweet nefarious taste of peach flavored Sysco.
About this time we agreed that we should, for the first time in our lives, visit a drive in theater before the last ones are extinct. I imagine it's already too late. But you see how it was not a boring kind of conversification between us. You see why we've become friends? Am I revealing at least a glimpse?
I brought her to the casino where I work and assured her no one would recognize me. And then the first person we saw, the security officer checking ID's at the door addressed me by name despite my Elvis wig and my gigantic sunglasses and my black leather jacket. And likewise nearly every other person spoke to me in familiar terms... customers and staff alike. People I'd never even seen before were hellbent on illustrating just how infinitely and utterly wrong I was in my supposition that I would go unnoticed.
Back in the car again we hadn't descended more than a couple levels of the parking garage when Jenny detected a bee on the dashboard. This was no harmless crisis either. Jenny has cause to suspect that being stung could be seriously compromising to her health and so on her recommendation we parked the car until this bee... the only one I've seen in about two years... could be extricated... and... don't overlook this... as I was performing my gallant responsibility, Jenny implored me not to kill it. She might as well have said I dare you to resist me... if you think you can. But really... as charming as her various personas are... I cannot be sure she knows positively how endearing she is... just herself. Even when she reads this it's unlikely she'll understand how lucky I know I am to befriend her.
Once more in her home she found herself contending with hiccups which I endeavored to cure her of by having her inflate a paper bag with oxygen which I then forced to collapse by clapping it between my hands. She's not gotten back to me on the degree to which this prescription was or was not successful.
One of the best things about going out with Jenny is that she tells you when she's having fun or even "tons of fun." When you're hanging out with such a beautiful person it makes you feel on top of the world to know she's having a good time.
But the best part of this holiday... as was the case with the holiday during which we first met face to face... was of course the innocent hugging at the end. The hugs that say I like you and I like being close to you.
I already knew a perfect evening could be spent with Jenny making dinner together and watching a movie. But. . .
It's No Coincidence
that now I know a perfect evening could be spent with Jenny anywhere and doing anything on any day.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Coincidence
Once again I begin a blog with a disclaimer that I don't believe in much of anything... but... just the same... one thing that's REALLY getting to me is all these inexplicable coincidences some of which I have faithfully recorded here:
and here:
and here:
Well here's the latest. I am interested in a young lady who works in the same casino I do. Recently she sent me a text lamenting the bygone practice of creating a mix tape or CD to show someone your affection. It's been replaced it seems with the practice of buying things... putting a price on love and perverting love into pimpery. Or something like that. I definitely took some poetic license there... but that was the gist all the same. Later she texted me again to say I needed to visit a mutual acquaintance at work when I arrived in order to receive something a description of which she did not offer. This intrigued me and I decided to make a mix CD for my young lady and have it delivered in return. And that's what I did.
Now it happens that my young lady and I disagree completely upon the subject of Christmas. Whereas I refuse adamently to discuss Christmas in any way except during the month of December, she feels every day is a good day to let Christmas influence you with its magical spirit. So as a concession to her philosophy... the first song on the CD is my favorite Christmas song... namely Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by Coldplay. The other 16 tracks are all dance songs or Disney songs. The first one is the only Christmas tune. Okay so I go to work and I find the mutual acquaintance and she gives me an envelope and I give her the CD entitled Subtle Happy Tunes ~ Replete With Erotic Subliminal Messages (this last bit being a joke of course) and she agrees to deliver it to my lady of interest. So I go to the Employee Dining Room and open the envelope and find a card upon the front of which are the words (are you ready for this?):
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
And though I'm reeling with amazement at the coincidences life relentlessly inundates me with... I don't see the harm in taking this most recent one as a gigantic recommendation (from that department of the universe that happens to concern itself with yours truly) to fully enjoy the upcoming Holiday season. And that's just what I intend to do.
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