In My Own Words

Every once in a while, someone will tell me, unsolicited, that I should 'write' - not in a generic sense but more in a professional vein. I will confess, I have often wondered if I'd have the chops if I really, really applied myself...

I had the opportunity last week to meet an author. A real one - not a blogger but someone who has actually made money with the printed word. I listened to him stew over a screenplay's butchering of one of his books, lamenting the demise of a literary magazine he was a part of and gladly sat through plugs for his new works.

The two paragraphs come together like this: late that night he sat down and read from one of his books. I have never been present for such - sure, we've all heard it on NPR or some such - but to be present in an overstuffed chair as he sat on the fireplace hearth and read - editing as he went, explaining asides and laughing at his own jokes. It was amazing to listen to and in that listening get just a glimpse of the Author's mind. Capital A there, folks.

I knew that night that I would never write. Not like that. Not in that caliber or league. I have seen greatness and know that I will forever fall short. Interestingly, I am not saddened by such...

Them Versus Us

We were driving behind some of Them up in the mountains of North Carolina this last weekend. They were in a red pick up, tail gate removed, three in the cab and woman riding in the bed, drinking a diet Pepsi and guarding a half dozen bags of trash. Winding our way down the mountain, she'd take a slug, look around and shout things towards the cab. I surmised they were headed to the community trash center - a large parking lot full of dumpsters - just as we were. As we were rounded the corner before the entrance she did something incredible: she pitched her empty soda can into the ditch.

I was stunned. I said the words I generally reserve for home improvement projects. I could not believe what I had just seen. How hard would it have been to hold on to the can for another thirty seconds?! Their visit to the dumpsters was fleeting - almost a drive by - as they barely slowed enough for the gal to pitch her bags in the general direction of an open container. She missed one. And, of course, did not bother to retrieve it.

Them. Inconsiderate, devolved low lifes. A lack of consideration, that's what it is. And responsibility. It's Them that's bringing this great country down. Folks acting with no pride, no shame and not the least thought for those around the rest of us.

Folks do not consider any more. The dude shouting racism at every turn fails to note that, in doing so, he's just a bit racist, too. The fundy's demanding the end to abortion (almost always male, natch) fail to consider the life, will and emotion of the mother. Republicans sneer at the Liberals while the Libs laugh right back - neither considering a middle ground.

Them. Them versus Us. We're losing, I think. And what's most disheartening to me is the idea that I just might be someone else's Them.

Threesome

1. So, Farrah has finally succumbed to cancer. I cannot say that I was a huge fan but, being a boy/young man of the 7os and 80s, I cannot pretend that I am unacquainted. Yup, I too have that red one piece indelibly etched on my brain. I can see that megawatt smile clear as day - as well as a few other things. Cancer is awful. It rapes one of dignity and leaves just a shell to mourn over. Farrah went like that. I am sorry for her passing - no one should go like that, no matter how beautiful.
2. Michael Jackson. Hmm. Nope, nothing there. Tragic figure. Possible pederast. Ludicrous, pathetic, tortured and, more than likely, a double helping of crazy. Sad to say but, perhaps, this is the best thing for you, Michael. I'd only wish you to Hell if any of those allegations are true...
3. Billy Mays - you know, BILLY MAYS HERE! BUY MY OXYCLEAN! I gotta confess, to me you were an immediately annoying individual. I cannot imagine why someone would buy from a shouting man. I sure wouldn't. But millions did, happily. You have my grudging admiration for being self made - and taking a road that I would be so ill prepared for. I could not do what you did. Besides, my voice wouldn't hold out that long.
   

Here and there

So, it seems that Yahoo is going to phase out their social network, 360, in favor of a new system: MASH. And they are hoping that the 360 users will migrate over.

Since they canned my favorite time sink, the message boards, I have been here and there trying to find a replacement. I've blogged in a couple of places, created a livejournal account, created a myspace account and, recently, even created a 360 account to keep up with my yahoo peeps.

The blogs have become more of a personal thing for me. Livejournal is used by friends and is an account where I post quirky things. I cancelled my myspace account a few weeks ago - just got bored with the thing. Now I hear that 360 is going away. Not that I was that deep into it but, dear Yahoo, you can rest assured that I will not be one of the ones following. And if you can't get rid of this damned Beta version of MyYahoo you may have lost me entirely!

Harumpf.

Yeah, yeah

This blog isn't dead - just merely pinin', as they say.

Hello? Is this thing on?

You know it's spring when the anoles turn green.

Smooooth

The doctors want to take a look at my innerds. Sorry, I skipped HS biology class (seriously) so that's about as technical as I can get. I guess the process requires me to drink some sort of radioactive chemical so the machines can do their thing. So, off to the hospital to get my 'prep packet' which includes a quart of something optimistically called an 'Apple Smoothie' - NOW! With More Barium Inside!

Okay, I made the last bit up.

But it does include the barium and it does claim to be an apple smoothie.

I asked the gal at the desk what it really tasted like and she claimed not to know. "How can you give this stuff out and not tried it yourself?" I exclaimed.

A nurse in the back looked up and said I should refrigerate it first. "Is it that bad?" I asked. Her reply was to simply nod and shudder.

Smoothie, my ass. I'll let you know.