I had the pleasure of hanging out with Hennessey and company one night.
I heard the roar of the bikes and met some of their riders. I learned a few things about friendship, brotherhood, history, freedom, and rider names.
We also met a very nice witch - a practicer of Wicca. She would give Glenda a run for her money.
I’m grateful to have “Henny” as my friend and feel completely honored that he asked me to be part of his inner circle and safe haven. The Inner Sanctum if you will.
It’s always good to escape reality whenever possible. But when an event occurs that enables you to do just that, the first question that comes to mind is, what’s a girl to wear? My posse and I came dressed in black tops – of course – because that’s always a safe bet. My Harley Davidson wedge sandals were obviously the right choice.
The way one dresses reflects much about them – not just their personal style, or lack thereof, but also, like riding, their sense of freedom. Some of us are obviously “free-er” than others. The idea of ‘less is more’ was not lost here tonight however, we were cool and classy and that wasn’t lost either.
So there we were with a crowd of ‘bad boys’ (and girls) that ended up being a bunch of good guys (and girls). And we were invited back. I was also given the honor of open invitation to the clubhouse, though I don’t have a clue where it is.
That might be a good thing.
I am definitely looking forward to my next adventure.
Aren’t you?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A Perfect Day
A Perfect Day...no such thing!
Usually, for me, a good day consists of pizza, wine, laughter and good company. I’m very easy... TO PLEASE, that is.
Sometimes, you have a perfect day. They are rare. Few and far between. But you recognize them instantly. Your hair turns out right. Your makeup looks better than usual. The outfit works (it makes you look thin, even though you need to shed a few pounds). You feel good. No headaches, no vertigo, no shit! And you’re about to hang out with a friend you don’t get to see and hang out with as often as you’d like.
The trek to your destination isn’t a straight shot and there is plenty of construction. You master it with ease. The semi threatening to throw you into the concrete wall decides you can live. Thanks buddy. Thank God!
You ignore your ringing phone.
The sun is shining.
The shoes, 4-inch stilettos, are comfy. Ah, gotta love Gabriella Rocha (Zappos, of course)!
Linkin Park (Shadow of the Day) is blaring through the speakers.
You arrive at your destination just waiting to hang out, relax, drink, laugh, shop, eat and drink a little more. It’s a great day. You know it’s great because you’ve finished a bottle of wine before 11:00 A.M. You know it’s great because it is over in what feels like a blink of the eye. So worth it.
It’s like the day I met my favorite band. It was over in a nano-second but OH SO WORTH IT. You wouldn’t trade it for anything and leave wondering when it’s going to happen again and worry that it won't.
We hit Standing Rock Gallery and I did major damage. Then, we were off to Don Drumms. MAJOR DAMGE x 2 (and then some)! If we had more money, we could have lived there for the remainder of the weekend. Just the most eclectic, beautiful, original, mind blowing pieces of rareness and authenticity and beauty and coolness you could ever behold. Probably my favorite gallery of all I have visited (to date).
I bought my first drawing by Brian Andreas (www.storypeople.com). It’s OK – you either get him or you don’t. We do. You might. Check it out.
After excellent white wine and homemade salsa (regular and mango – both to die for), we hit Chrissy Hynde’s restaurant, The Vegi-terannian, for more wine (of course) and appetizers. We ordered the pizza which, to be honest, we labeled as “salad on bread” but it was good. We also treated ourselves to “Chrissy fries” which, minus the dollop they call cheese (this is vegan my friends, get with the program), were excellent. We could handle the vegan ketchup but the cheese was just another story altogether. I’m not there yet. I love the idea of vegan, and am getting close to incorporating it but you’ve got to make better cheese. I don’t quite dig ricotta to begin with but what they threw on the fries, was, well, indescribable! I know. I try to adhere to the “eat nothing with a face” philosophy and I do so believe in it. But this cheese was…unnatural. UN-FOODLIKE! Sorry.
Still, a great place to try and try again.
I left my friend way too early but wanted to beat the traffic and construction. Let’s face it, Friday afternoon traffic sucks. We’re all in a hurry to get home and enjoy the beginning of our weekend. Fortunately, mine was already off to an unforgettable start.
My drive home was a breeze. I sat outside with one more glass of wine, the sunshine, the cerulean blue sky, a little music in my head, and a little peace and quiet. A little stolen moment of serenity that was all mine after a very fun and exciting day. A day filled with laughter and sunshine, wine and wonders, treasures and friendship…and all around…
A perfect day with a treasured friend.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Fight or Flight?
I want to have more clarity than I do. Most of the time I fly by the seat of my pants or put out all the fires that spark, flash and spit - then try to engulf me.
Sometimes I stay and fight.
Other times I flee the scene.
I want to be more grounded.
I want to be proactive versus reactive.
I used to be.
Funny when you don’t recognize those things you knew so well about yourself.
But that’s what’s cool about starting over. No one knows you and you can be whoever and whatever you want to be.
Sort of a re-creation.
Still you, but with better nuances.
It’s hard for me to be “committed” to much of anything. There are plenty of reasons for that. Get to close and the illusion is forever spoiled. I don’t want to get too comfortable either – because then you don’t see it coming.
I hate that.
So, among other things, working 5 days a week after several wonderful years of 4 day work weeks – well – it’s claustrophobic to my very being! It messes with my semblance of sanity. With me, occasionally, it’s FIGHT OR FLIGHT. Sometimes I just need to go. Get out. Be FREE. If not, I’ll fight you for all the reasons that make sense and every one that doesn’t. I don’t mean to be combative. I just need to know that I can walk away, from anything…
...and this time, it’s my choice.
I’ve been leaving early and taking days off work pretty much all summer. A caged bird can’t fly but it also won’t sing.
It will sing for freedom.
I want to sing.
So they have to set me free... for a week…
…And if I come back…
…Then it was meant to be.
I WILL COME BACK…
…But that’ll be our secret. Don’t tell them!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
These are the things that I miss
These are not times for the weak of heart
These are the days of raw despondence
I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this.
One step – One prayer – I soldier on, simulating moving on
~Alanis Morissette/The Torch/Flavors of Entanglement
Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple
Sometimes goodbye’s the only way
~Linkin Park/Shadow of the Day/Minutes to Midnight
I Believe...That you can keep going long after you think you can't
~Unknown
Sometimes I stay and fight.
Other times I flee the scene.
I want to be more grounded.
I want to be proactive versus reactive.
I used to be.
Funny when you don’t recognize those things you knew so well about yourself.
But that’s what’s cool about starting over. No one knows you and you can be whoever and whatever you want to be.
Sort of a re-creation.
Still you, but with better nuances.
It’s hard for me to be “committed” to much of anything. There are plenty of reasons for that. Get to close and the illusion is forever spoiled. I don’t want to get too comfortable either – because then you don’t see it coming.
I hate that.
So, among other things, working 5 days a week after several wonderful years of 4 day work weeks – well – it’s claustrophobic to my very being! It messes with my semblance of sanity. With me, occasionally, it’s FIGHT OR FLIGHT. Sometimes I just need to go. Get out. Be FREE. If not, I’ll fight you for all the reasons that make sense and every one that doesn’t. I don’t mean to be combative. I just need to know that I can walk away, from anything…
...and this time, it’s my choice.
I’ve been leaving early and taking days off work pretty much all summer. A caged bird can’t fly but it also won’t sing.
It will sing for freedom.
I want to sing.
So they have to set me free... for a week…
…And if I come back…
…Then it was meant to be.
I WILL COME BACK…
…But that’ll be our secret. Don’t tell them!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
These are the things that I miss
These are not times for the weak of heart
These are the days of raw despondence
I never dreamed I would have to lay down my torch for you like this.
One step – One prayer – I soldier on, simulating moving on
~Alanis Morissette/The Torch/Flavors of Entanglement
Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple
Sometimes goodbye’s the only way
~Linkin Park/Shadow of the Day/Minutes to Midnight
I Believe...That you can keep going long after you think you can't
~Unknown
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Good Graces
At my former gig, I was ingrained in the midst of some very astute, forward-thinking individuals. We worked "beyond well" together.
It was wonderful.
I was untouchable.
I loved it.
I was finally getting those ever-elusive dangling carrots – AKA bonuses!
I was told to ride this ‘wave’ for as long as I could.
That was the plan.
It was short-lived.
Fast forward to my current gig. I received a thank you card and check from them.
A BONUS check.
Correction – a SWEET BONUS CHECK for my "hard word and dedication throughout the year." Funny, I haven't even been there a year yet.
Impressive.
It took some mystery solving skills to figure out the “WHO” (as in “WHO” said to give me the bonus, and yes, I should be more concerned with they “WHY”), but I think it is safe to say, I’m in good graces once again…
And this time…
I plan to stay there.
Whatever it takes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Faith is believing that one of two things will happen,
That there will be something solid for you to stand on
Or
That you will be taught to fly.”
~Unknown
It was wonderful.
I was untouchable.
I loved it.
I was finally getting those ever-elusive dangling carrots – AKA bonuses!
I was told to ride this ‘wave’ for as long as I could.
That was the plan.
It was short-lived.
Fast forward to my current gig. I received a thank you card and check from them.
A BONUS check.
Correction – a SWEET BONUS CHECK for my "hard word and dedication throughout the year." Funny, I haven't even been there a year yet.
Impressive.
It took some mystery solving skills to figure out the “WHO” (as in “WHO” said to give me the bonus, and yes, I should be more concerned with they “WHY”), but I think it is safe to say, I’m in good graces once again…
And this time…
I plan to stay there.
Whatever it takes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Faith is believing that one of two things will happen,
That there will be something solid for you to stand on
Or
That you will be taught to fly.”
~Unknown
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The Dance
(Written by Jeff; Posted by Kellie)
My movie. I wish to write one. It will be about love, about my wife, about us, and what two soul mates do to enrich one another’s life. It will be a true story, not fiction in any way at all; love is never fictitious or blinded. It will be beautiful, because she is beautiful. Like I said, beauty and the truth.
She is beautiful. I have a special song I play and let the words wander through my mind as I sit and listen to it over and over. The words are extremely powerful, enlightening, and they let us know we are beautiful. Trying hard to fill the emptiness, the puzzle undone. She is beautiful. Words will never bring her down. Nor will her MS. I hate it. Its here. I can’t get rid of it. But the sun shines on her. It beams on us both. The sun will always shine.
I have played this one scene through my mind continuously. It has us dancing in the shadows of one another. Yet the shadows become one, not two. They meld together, not like oil and water. The sun is behind us coming through the windows. It is a very large room we are in, old, stately. We are alone, just together with our smiles aiming at each other. The problem is, neither one of can dance. Dance Lessons.
I grew up never seeing my father perform, he must have been quite good at his craft, and he was known as The Little Shadow. He emulated his partner. Side by side they stepped, never out of rhythm, always in stride for stride. Needless to say, I did not inherit this marvelous form of expressing oneself. I can’t dance. Yet this scene won’t leave my mind. It constantly runs, never stops, it repeats itself over and again. I want to dance with my wife. I want to lead, have her flow across the floor, never out of step, shadows as one. It is painful, I am ashamed, and I can’t teach her. Dance Lessons.
This brings me down; it deeply saddens me and torments me to no end. I’m consumed with this. It has become a passion. Fred and Ginger, Kelly and O’Connor. Jeff and Jennifer. It wont beat me; I have a mission to whisk her all over that hardwood floor, the sun always shining on us. I have to teach her, I can’t go on without living out this dream of us cascading in stride, smiling, laughing, and being in love. No crutches, no chair, no scooter, no canes, just four legs mimicking one another’s movements and flow. Words won’t be spoken, perhaps just a few laughs, and the room echoes with just smiles as if they were mirror images of one another. This day, this sunny afternoon, no one has MS, there are no mentions of it, its gone, and it has left us just for this one special day.
I wonder to myself sometimes if this is all just a mere dream. I’m delirious, so consumed in all of this. Trying hard to fill the emptiness, the voids are painful. Can this be in my grasp? Can I truly teach her how to dance? I have a plan - a drawing in my head, a vision in my eyes. My father was not only a good dancer, he was an engineer. I won’t design any steel mills for the world; however, I did learn a thing or two from him. And with the mindless ingenuity I possess, I can do this. Dance Lessons. It is in my power for I am her Angel. If I truly have earned these elusive wings, I must put my plan into action.
If we are to assume I am an Angel, as she claims often that I am, then it is imperative that we shall have our afternoon. But, you can’t always get what you want and it is not having what you want, but wanting what you have. I have more than any human being should be allowed to have; yet I yearn for more. As I sit and think about it, it is not for me, it is for Jennifer. I want for her. I want her to fly. I believe she can fly. I believe she can. I have to see it, hold it, and make it tangible. It is just a belief; I have this quest to witness this. Thoughts don’t complete what I want for her, it has to be in the palm of my hand to realize it is true.
I will always stand by her; I wont let anyone hurt her. She is the light in front of me that lets me travel down the streets with no names. I guess what that means is that wherever I go, she is there with me, regardless of where it happens to be that I am. I can’t shake her image from my mind. She is in me forever. I love her and will always and forever stand by her. Standing is easy; it’s this damn dance that has me puzzled. Enter my father.
I was not there the day my father passed away. I was not there to tell him all the things I had to say. They say you can listen as well as you hear. Today, at this time in my life, I know I listened to him. His echo is in my tears. Ten years have now passed since he left for Heaven. I miss him terribly every damn day. His departure from this earth left a void, yet an impact in my life. It is his wisdom and intelligence that will get me to the dance floor. Dance Lessons, Duct Tape.
I wear motorcycle boots because I ride a Harley. Funny, they are engineering boots. Coincidence; no. Fate; yes.
I have devised an idea using my boots, Jennifer’s shoes and duct tape. I take my boots off, place her shoes over top of them, and duct tape the shit out of them. Slipping my boots back on, I stand, smile, take her into my arms, and let nature take its course. This is how I shall dance with my wife. No matter what we do, no matter what we say, the sun shall shine on us. We are beautiful, no matter what they say, and words wont bring us down, not today.
Maybe I didn't love youQuite as often as I could haveMaybe I didn't treat youQuite as good as I should haveIf I made you feel second best I'm sorry I was blind. I am no longer blind. My shame is over. You are always, and forever, on my mind. I will teach you, I will lead you.
Let’s dance.
My movie. I wish to write one. It will be about love, about my wife, about us, and what two soul mates do to enrich one another’s life. It will be a true story, not fiction in any way at all; love is never fictitious or blinded. It will be beautiful, because she is beautiful. Like I said, beauty and the truth.
She is beautiful. I have a special song I play and let the words wander through my mind as I sit and listen to it over and over. The words are extremely powerful, enlightening, and they let us know we are beautiful. Trying hard to fill the emptiness, the puzzle undone. She is beautiful. Words will never bring her down. Nor will her MS. I hate it. Its here. I can’t get rid of it. But the sun shines on her. It beams on us both. The sun will always shine.
I have played this one scene through my mind continuously. It has us dancing in the shadows of one another. Yet the shadows become one, not two. They meld together, not like oil and water. The sun is behind us coming through the windows. It is a very large room we are in, old, stately. We are alone, just together with our smiles aiming at each other. The problem is, neither one of can dance. Dance Lessons.
I grew up never seeing my father perform, he must have been quite good at his craft, and he was known as The Little Shadow. He emulated his partner. Side by side they stepped, never out of rhythm, always in stride for stride. Needless to say, I did not inherit this marvelous form of expressing oneself. I can’t dance. Yet this scene won’t leave my mind. It constantly runs, never stops, it repeats itself over and again. I want to dance with my wife. I want to lead, have her flow across the floor, never out of step, shadows as one. It is painful, I am ashamed, and I can’t teach her. Dance Lessons.
This brings me down; it deeply saddens me and torments me to no end. I’m consumed with this. It has become a passion. Fred and Ginger, Kelly and O’Connor. Jeff and Jennifer. It wont beat me; I have a mission to whisk her all over that hardwood floor, the sun always shining on us. I have to teach her, I can’t go on without living out this dream of us cascading in stride, smiling, laughing, and being in love. No crutches, no chair, no scooter, no canes, just four legs mimicking one another’s movements and flow. Words won’t be spoken, perhaps just a few laughs, and the room echoes with just smiles as if they were mirror images of one another. This day, this sunny afternoon, no one has MS, there are no mentions of it, its gone, and it has left us just for this one special day.
I wonder to myself sometimes if this is all just a mere dream. I’m delirious, so consumed in all of this. Trying hard to fill the emptiness, the voids are painful. Can this be in my grasp? Can I truly teach her how to dance? I have a plan - a drawing in my head, a vision in my eyes. My father was not only a good dancer, he was an engineer. I won’t design any steel mills for the world; however, I did learn a thing or two from him. And with the mindless ingenuity I possess, I can do this. Dance Lessons. It is in my power for I am her Angel. If I truly have earned these elusive wings, I must put my plan into action.
If we are to assume I am an Angel, as she claims often that I am, then it is imperative that we shall have our afternoon. But, you can’t always get what you want and it is not having what you want, but wanting what you have. I have more than any human being should be allowed to have; yet I yearn for more. As I sit and think about it, it is not for me, it is for Jennifer. I want for her. I want her to fly. I believe she can fly. I believe she can. I have to see it, hold it, and make it tangible. It is just a belief; I have this quest to witness this. Thoughts don’t complete what I want for her, it has to be in the palm of my hand to realize it is true.
I will always stand by her; I wont let anyone hurt her. She is the light in front of me that lets me travel down the streets with no names. I guess what that means is that wherever I go, she is there with me, regardless of where it happens to be that I am. I can’t shake her image from my mind. She is in me forever. I love her and will always and forever stand by her. Standing is easy; it’s this damn dance that has me puzzled. Enter my father.
I was not there the day my father passed away. I was not there to tell him all the things I had to say. They say you can listen as well as you hear. Today, at this time in my life, I know I listened to him. His echo is in my tears. Ten years have now passed since he left for Heaven. I miss him terribly every damn day. His departure from this earth left a void, yet an impact in my life. It is his wisdom and intelligence that will get me to the dance floor. Dance Lessons, Duct Tape.
I wear motorcycle boots because I ride a Harley. Funny, they are engineering boots. Coincidence; no. Fate; yes.
I have devised an idea using my boots, Jennifer’s shoes and duct tape. I take my boots off, place her shoes over top of them, and duct tape the shit out of them. Slipping my boots back on, I stand, smile, take her into my arms, and let nature take its course. This is how I shall dance with my wife. No matter what we do, no matter what we say, the sun shall shine on us. We are beautiful, no matter what they say, and words wont bring us down, not today.
Maybe I didn't love youQuite as often as I could haveMaybe I didn't treat youQuite as good as I should haveIf I made you feel second best I'm sorry I was blind. I am no longer blind. My shame is over. You are always, and forever, on my mind. I will teach you, I will lead you.
Let’s dance.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Friend and Art Festivals = Summer Fun
One of my favorite things to do in the summer is hit as many art festivals as possible. June seems to be the perfect month for that.
It started a couple weeks ago in Little Italy. It was hot (90+ degrees – no exaggeration), windy as hell (my hair had seen better days), but also a very fun time. I was fortunate enough to find my red coral Buddha (which I passed up a couple years ago – but not this time) at Xen Gallery. Cool place. Another treasure, a very unique silver metal star, twisted at each point, with a jewel in the center, was purchased at Juma Gallery. This is probably my favorite place. Dinner at Valerio’s with a bottle of Pinot Grigio was excellent. Big thanks to my friends for that perfect night – we laughed a lot during dinner and we all needed that more than anything else.
This weekend was the annual art festival at Crocker Park. They blocked off the main thoroughfare so each side of the street was lined with tents for each artist. There were approximately130 artisans. Though rain threatened the day, not once did we need our umbrellas. Even more surprising, considering the forecast, temperatures were quite manageable and rather pleasant. The event began at 10:00 AM and we arrived at 9:30 AM - because we are smart and - we wanted "first dibs" - on anything and everything that caught our eye! We were able to walk the thoroughfare immediately. It wasn’t crowded at all – barely any patrons so early in the morning. (And this is just another reason why it's good to be a rule breaker in the land of rule makers!) By the time we left, both patronage and temperatures were heating up.
The artisans had many treasures to sell. Everything from jewelry, leather goods, mixed media, pottery and glass art to paintings, photographs, metal and whimsical pieces for home and garden. Though to many to mention by name, my favorite by far would be Glass Designs by David and Susan of Bay Village. I was at their kiosk for quite some time talking to the artist. He signed each piece I purchased. My little piece of art, “so the legend goes, helps channel positive energy (chi), good health and good fortune into the room.” We’ll see! I bought one for home and work - you can never have enough CHI!
I should have purchased the kaleidoscope too – it was over-the-edge cool. Their card says they specialize in flowers, kaleidoscopes and panels. The artist was also personable and had a few fun stories to share. No website listed so I’m thinking “ROAD TRIP!”
This weekend I’m taking a much-needed day off work to catch up with an amazing friend I made while working at the former gig. And I’ll be sharing lots of stories about the new gig – over wine! Soon after, we’ll be well on our way to do major damage at Standing Rock Gallery and Don Drumm’s Studio. I can’t wait.
Is it sickening to say I’ve already purchased some Christmas presents at these events?
______________________________________
Cool quote for today:
If you do things well, do them better. Be daring, be first, be daring, be just
- Anita Roddick
It started a couple weeks ago in Little Italy. It was hot (90+ degrees – no exaggeration), windy as hell (my hair had seen better days), but also a very fun time. I was fortunate enough to find my red coral Buddha (which I passed up a couple years ago – but not this time) at Xen Gallery. Cool place. Another treasure, a very unique silver metal star, twisted at each point, with a jewel in the center, was purchased at Juma Gallery. This is probably my favorite place. Dinner at Valerio’s with a bottle of Pinot Grigio was excellent. Big thanks to my friends for that perfect night – we laughed a lot during dinner and we all needed that more than anything else.
This weekend was the annual art festival at Crocker Park. They blocked off the main thoroughfare so each side of the street was lined with tents for each artist. There were approximately130 artisans. Though rain threatened the day, not once did we need our umbrellas. Even more surprising, considering the forecast, temperatures were quite manageable and rather pleasant. The event began at 10:00 AM and we arrived at 9:30 AM - because we are smart and - we wanted "first dibs" - on anything and everything that caught our eye! We were able to walk the thoroughfare immediately. It wasn’t crowded at all – barely any patrons so early in the morning. (And this is just another reason why it's good to be a rule breaker in the land of rule makers!) By the time we left, both patronage and temperatures were heating up.
The artisans had many treasures to sell. Everything from jewelry, leather goods, mixed media, pottery and glass art to paintings, photographs, metal and whimsical pieces for home and garden. Though to many to mention by name, my favorite by far would be Glass Designs by David and Susan of Bay Village. I was at their kiosk for quite some time talking to the artist. He signed each piece I purchased. My little piece of art, “so the legend goes, helps channel positive energy (chi), good health and good fortune into the room.” We’ll see! I bought one for home and work - you can never have enough CHI!
I should have purchased the kaleidoscope too – it was over-the-edge cool. Their card says they specialize in flowers, kaleidoscopes and panels. The artist was also personable and had a few fun stories to share. No website listed so I’m thinking “ROAD TRIP!”
This weekend I’m taking a much-needed day off work to catch up with an amazing friend I made while working at the former gig. And I’ll be sharing lots of stories about the new gig – over wine! Soon after, we’ll be well on our way to do major damage at Standing Rock Gallery and Don Drumm’s Studio. I can’t wait.
Is it sickening to say I’ve already purchased some Christmas presents at these events?
______________________________________
Cool quote for today:
If you do things well, do them better. Be daring, be first, be daring, be just
- Anita Roddick
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
More Thoughts On Counting
(Written by Hennessy...posted by Kellie):
We take count of everything. Compiling data, events, making recordings and entries to demonstrate and evaluate. There is a census taking in this country, and even throughout the world. Our quest for knowledge is a daily mission. Counting, statistics, tabulations and so on become materials for which to head into the future. I want to head into that future, and I have as of late become a statistic. I am not sure just how I feel about that, but I have no choice now.
Counting and measuring and adding and subtracting give us that essential bottom line figure we seek. But what is it? And what does it mean? You have a count, it's scrutinized, and then its placed in equations. What does it equate to? That means nothing to me now, but I am being counted. I am now a person with a bad heart. A statistic. Just a number. Not even a name anymore, merely a number for scientists to work with. I am an age, a birth date, a social security number and a male in his midlife who has heart troubles. I just want to be me again, doesn’t that count for something?
I wrote before (though not in blog form) about being scared. It has consumed me, due to the fact I over react, fantasize and do not rationalize. I freak out! Right now, that is what is happening with my mind and my thoughts. I tend to overlook generalness and jump right into the glass is half empty, or even totally empty, signifying defeat. I guess I do this as if it were looked at the other way, but in the end is chaos ... I have not set myself up for failure, I am already there. Not a good thing, not at all.
I am scared. I am also greedy and I want to know immediately what is wrong. I hate waiting. It’s not fair. If my time is taken up, then so should everyone else’s and I should get my answers immediately. Sadly, it does not work this way. So I sit and wait.
I remember vividly being a child, and having to go to the doctor to get a flu shot. We went as a family, after work, in the Buick no doubt, and back in the 60’s, we all got the same needle, a glass one, and got stuck with it. Not me, nope, not me. I hid under a table and then kicked the doctor in the shin. The beginning of my hatred for medicine. It is no wonder I don’t like to go. These days, you kick someone, you go to jail. I don’t have time for that. I suppose I have to keep my mouth shut and play nice.
I told myself to do this, so I have no one to blame for any thing but me. I have taken the necessary steps in getting help, something no one in my family ever did. Why didn't they ever seek help? I know, they were too busy enjoying life and did not want to be a statistic. Ironically, they are now, as they have all passed on. The worst stat of all.
A very wise woman said:
You live longer once you realize that any time spent being unhappy is wasted.
If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it.
If it is to be, then it is up to me
We compile numbers and data for various reasons. Please Lord; let me be one of those that live. Give me strength and wisdom, help me through this. I want to live; I am on that bridge, asking to live. It is a wonderful life, and I am counting on trying to go far into it.
That is what I want to count; Life.
We take count of everything. Compiling data, events, making recordings and entries to demonstrate and evaluate. There is a census taking in this country, and even throughout the world. Our quest for knowledge is a daily mission. Counting, statistics, tabulations and so on become materials for which to head into the future. I want to head into that future, and I have as of late become a statistic. I am not sure just how I feel about that, but I have no choice now.
Counting and measuring and adding and subtracting give us that essential bottom line figure we seek. But what is it? And what does it mean? You have a count, it's scrutinized, and then its placed in equations. What does it equate to? That means nothing to me now, but I am being counted. I am now a person with a bad heart. A statistic. Just a number. Not even a name anymore, merely a number for scientists to work with. I am an age, a birth date, a social security number and a male in his midlife who has heart troubles. I just want to be me again, doesn’t that count for something?
I wrote before (though not in blog form) about being scared. It has consumed me, due to the fact I over react, fantasize and do not rationalize. I freak out! Right now, that is what is happening with my mind and my thoughts. I tend to overlook generalness and jump right into the glass is half empty, or even totally empty, signifying defeat. I guess I do this as if it were looked at the other way, but in the end is chaos ... I have not set myself up for failure, I am already there. Not a good thing, not at all.
I am scared. I am also greedy and I want to know immediately what is wrong. I hate waiting. It’s not fair. If my time is taken up, then so should everyone else’s and I should get my answers immediately. Sadly, it does not work this way. So I sit and wait.
I remember vividly being a child, and having to go to the doctor to get a flu shot. We went as a family, after work, in the Buick no doubt, and back in the 60’s, we all got the same needle, a glass one, and got stuck with it. Not me, nope, not me. I hid under a table and then kicked the doctor in the shin. The beginning of my hatred for medicine. It is no wonder I don’t like to go. These days, you kick someone, you go to jail. I don’t have time for that. I suppose I have to keep my mouth shut and play nice.
I told myself to do this, so I have no one to blame for any thing but me. I have taken the necessary steps in getting help, something no one in my family ever did. Why didn't they ever seek help? I know, they were too busy enjoying life and did not want to be a statistic. Ironically, they are now, as they have all passed on. The worst stat of all.
A very wise woman said:
You live longer once you realize that any time spent being unhappy is wasted.
If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it.
If it is to be, then it is up to me
We compile numbers and data for various reasons. Please Lord; let me be one of those that live. Give me strength and wisdom, help me through this. I want to live; I am on that bridge, asking to live. It is a wonderful life, and I am counting on trying to go far into it.
That is what I want to count; Life.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Ticked and Ticketless
I was so excited. I had 4th row, stage left for the CC/M5 tour (that’s Counting Crows and Maroon 5 but you knew that, right?)
I did more damage and scored 6th row CENTER/MIDDLE and was elated! I even found a buyer for my stage left seats. Despite Augustana not opening, things were good.
And then things got UGLY! VERY, VERY UGLY!
The news was e-mailed to me:
5.5.08 Important Schedule Change!
Live Nation regretfully announces the Maroon 5 / Counting Crows performance scheduled for Tuesday, Aug. 26 at Blossom Music Center has been canceled due to routing issues.
Tickets purchased via phone or Internet will have their account automatically credited. Tickets purchased at an outlet or box office can be refunded at the original point of purchase.
I later found out that “routing issues” meant they found a better venue and sold more ticket so they made more money. They already had multiple gigs in New York and obviously Red Rocks so, who would overshadow OHIO – the home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
I was without words when I read the following”
5.13.08 Counting Crows Play Minnesota
Counting Crows will be teaming up with Maroon 5 and Sara Bareilles on August 26th at Mystic Lake Casino and Hotel. Mystic Lake is located just outside of Minneapolis. Tickets go on sale starting May 31st. Stay tuned to countingcrows.com to see how you can get your tickets!
I did more damage and scored 6th row CENTER/MIDDLE and was elated! I even found a buyer for my stage left seats. Despite Augustana not opening, things were good.
And then things got UGLY! VERY, VERY UGLY!
The news was e-mailed to me:
5.5.08 Important Schedule Change!
Live Nation regretfully announces the Maroon 5 / Counting Crows performance scheduled for Tuesday, Aug. 26 at Blossom Music Center has been canceled due to routing issues.
Tickets purchased via phone or Internet will have their account automatically credited. Tickets purchased at an outlet or box office can be refunded at the original point of purchase.
I later found out that “routing issues” meant they found a better venue and sold more ticket so they made more money. They already had multiple gigs in New York and obviously Red Rocks so, who would overshadow OHIO – the home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
I was without words when I read the following”
5.13.08 Counting Crows Play Minnesota
Counting Crows will be teaming up with Maroon 5 and Sara Bareilles on August 26th at Mystic Lake Casino and Hotel. Mystic Lake is located just outside of Minneapolis. Tickets go on sale starting May 31st. Stay tuned to countingcrows.com to see how you can get your tickets!
No stop in OHIO whatsoever!
I’m hoping CC does the same.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Counting Smiles
I think I smiled too much that week.
No.
Wait.
Is that possible?
My cheeks hurt from all the smiling and laughing. That’s how I am counting from now on. I’m counting smiles.
Like most of you, I’ve known sadness and despair all too well. I considered them my best friends.
Meet my new friend…Hope. Actually, Hope is an old friend. We lost touch for a while but thankfully we’ve renewed our friendship.
I’m not really counting on hope or anyone for that matter. That’s just a cluster-mishap waiting to happen. They all let you down – though sometimes unintentionally – the end result is not what you wanted, expected or hoped for. Often times you just have to count on yourself.
I received a phone call that made my day. A “blast from the past” they used to say. Someone I had a really good relationship with and miss every Monday through Friday. It made me smile. I had to shut my office door to take this call. I could feel my cheeks begin to tingle as a slight smirk turned into a wide smile. I thought the corners of my mouth might bleed.
Some people you just miss.
That same week, perhaps even the next day, I received a call from a co-worker (off site) needing some help with a minor issue. Turns out I helped him a few months back. I didn’t remember. Everyday is a busy blur.
A couple days later, I was standing at a co-worker’s cubicle when a man said to me, “Thanks for your help the other day.” I had seen this man a few times before. We even had a couple of brief conversations. I had no idea he was the same guy who called seeking my help to resolve an issue. Sometimes it makes you smile just to put a face with a name.
He was smiling.
Another co-worker, whose cubicle we happened to meet at, asked him if he needed anything else.
He didn’t and he left. Smiling.
My co-worker turned to me and said, “People like you. That’s good.” (You should only know how a certain department cringes when I call. How that same department prefers to talk over me (and everyone else) rather than actually help, assist or fix any issues you have. How they prefer to talk “above” us and YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THAT? )
But I digress…
We were talking about smiles.
I smiled realizing these two guys were one in the same. I smiled that my co-worker thought everyone liked me (they don’t, of course, because you can’t please everyone. I realize that long ago and I’ve long since given up even trying). I smiled when my old acquaintance called me. I also smiled when someone very important, while on their cell phone, stopped, smiled and waved at me as he walked in. I did the same. He didn’t have to.
I smiled when my friendlet me help bottle feed the rescued baby kittens.
I smiled when I was asked to take over a project because the person who was supposed to handle it was “overwhelmed.”
I smile when my friend calls me to commiserate about our work life once being “ADULT DAY CARE” and now being a something that resembles PRISON.
We see and encounter so much negativity in life. Sometimes you just have to smile to change the course. Now, let’s be real. This isn’t always effective. But you see, that’s when you kill them with a smile and with kindness. And even if it annoys them, well, that’s just a bonus. Breathe it in and take its power.
I watched the CAVS game the other night and actually most of the season. I am so proud of them. All the undercuts and snide remarks and still, they RISE UP. LeBron was the brunt of a myriad of cheap shots - personally, professionally and physically. It was tough to watch and hear for me. It had to be tough on him. But you would never surmise that because he is one class act. Our CAVS are a class act.
They aren’t just fantastic – they are phenomenal and impressive. Their actions spoke louder than any words.
The Sports page (of the Plain Dealer) spoke volumes. The photo of LeBron and Daniel, the photo of Wally – all smiles. As much as I love “nothin’ but net, “ I love “nothin’ but smiles” all the more. Feel it. Taste it. Breathe it in.
Let it out in the form of a smile. Let it spread across your face until it hurts. It’s all good.
It speaks volumes.
No words required.
So count how many times you smile tomorrow. Let me know.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well-behaved women rarely make history.
~Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.
No.
Wait.
Is that possible?
My cheeks hurt from all the smiling and laughing. That’s how I am counting from now on. I’m counting smiles.
Like most of you, I’ve known sadness and despair all too well. I considered them my best friends.
Meet my new friend…Hope. Actually, Hope is an old friend. We lost touch for a while but thankfully we’ve renewed our friendship.
I’m not really counting on hope or anyone for that matter. That’s just a cluster-mishap waiting to happen. They all let you down – though sometimes unintentionally – the end result is not what you wanted, expected or hoped for. Often times you just have to count on yourself.
I received a phone call that made my day. A “blast from the past” they used to say. Someone I had a really good relationship with and miss every Monday through Friday. It made me smile. I had to shut my office door to take this call. I could feel my cheeks begin to tingle as a slight smirk turned into a wide smile. I thought the corners of my mouth might bleed.
Some people you just miss.
That same week, perhaps even the next day, I received a call from a co-worker (off site) needing some help with a minor issue. Turns out I helped him a few months back. I didn’t remember. Everyday is a busy blur.
A couple days later, I was standing at a co-worker’s cubicle when a man said to me, “Thanks for your help the other day.” I had seen this man a few times before. We even had a couple of brief conversations. I had no idea he was the same guy who called seeking my help to resolve an issue. Sometimes it makes you smile just to put a face with a name.
He was smiling.
Another co-worker, whose cubicle we happened to meet at, asked him if he needed anything else.
He didn’t and he left. Smiling.
My co-worker turned to me and said, “People like you. That’s good.” (You should only know how a certain department cringes when I call. How that same department prefers to talk over me (and everyone else) rather than actually help, assist or fix any issues you have. How they prefer to talk “above” us and YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THAT? )
But I digress…
We were talking about smiles.
I smiled realizing these two guys were one in the same. I smiled that my co-worker thought everyone liked me (they don’t, of course, because you can’t please everyone. I realize that long ago and I’ve long since given up even trying). I smiled when my old acquaintance called me. I also smiled when someone very important, while on their cell phone, stopped, smiled and waved at me as he walked in. I did the same. He didn’t have to.
I smiled when my friendlet me help bottle feed the rescued baby kittens.
I smiled when I was asked to take over a project because the person who was supposed to handle it was “overwhelmed.”
I smile when my friend calls me to commiserate about our work life once being “ADULT DAY CARE” and now being a something that resembles PRISON.
We see and encounter so much negativity in life. Sometimes you just have to smile to change the course. Now, let’s be real. This isn’t always effective. But you see, that’s when you kill them with a smile and with kindness. And even if it annoys them, well, that’s just a bonus. Breathe it in and take its power.
I watched the CAVS game the other night and actually most of the season. I am so proud of them. All the undercuts and snide remarks and still, they RISE UP. LeBron was the brunt of a myriad of cheap shots - personally, professionally and physically. It was tough to watch and hear for me. It had to be tough on him. But you would never surmise that because he is one class act. Our CAVS are a class act.
They aren’t just fantastic – they are phenomenal and impressive. Their actions spoke louder than any words.
The Sports page (of the Plain Dealer) spoke volumes. The photo of LeBron and Daniel, the photo of Wally – all smiles. As much as I love “nothin’ but net, “ I love “nothin’ but smiles” all the more. Feel it. Taste it. Breathe it in.
Let it out in the form of a smile. Let it spread across your face until it hurts. It’s all good.
It speaks volumes.
No words required.
So count how many times you smile tomorrow. Let me know.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well-behaved women rarely make history.
~Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
I Am Icarus Falling Out Of The Sky
How many times have you flown?
How many times have you wished for wings?
How many times have you fallen?
The story of Icarus has fascinated me for years. The need for freedom. It’s the “get away” (from some of life’s harshest realities or whatever you need an escape from). It’s the ability to live in the moment. It’s learning the hard way…even when it’s too late.
But in the story of Icarus, (if by chance you are unfamiliar, here's the “Cliff Notes”) it’s about... well, for me, it’s about WANTING - wanting to escape, wanting to be free, wanting that which seems elusive at best - and wanting it so badly that nothing else matters – and this can be about the “wanting” of anything - you actually yearn for it. You yearn for those things you feel are missing from your life - until you find them - because once you find them - then there's no longer a need. Until then, the warnings don’t matter; those who care about you don’t matter. Well, they do, but not at the moment you take [your hypothetical] flight.
It’s selfish. You’re selfish. I'm selfish. But we're flying. How can this be and how can anything else matter? And from this, Adam Duritz created Insignificant. He said, *“It’s about jumping off a building and seeing it as flight, a retreat from life. But it’s still sort of beautiful. [The character in the song] doesn’t want to be insignificant, and mean nothing.”
Who would?
Listen to Insignificant. Of all the things you can feel... happy, sad, jealous, empowered, bitter, strong, proud, elated, surreal, etc… but to feel insignificant must be the worst of all. (As if Counting Crows or Duritz himself could ever be insignificant. He’s one in a million. We all are. And that’s a good thing.)
I’ve often said if I could spend 24 hours in someone else’s mind, it would be that of Bill Gate. I find Duritz to be a very close second.
Can you see me?
I’m one in a million
I am Icarus falling
Out of the sun
(Counting Crows/Insignificant/Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings)
*Quote excerpt courtesy of bonus Track by Track Interview with Adam Duritz downloaded from iTunes. I ordered the deluxe edition. Didn't everyone?)
How many times have you wished for wings?
How many times have you fallen?
The story of Icarus has fascinated me for years. The need for freedom. It’s the “get away” (from some of life’s harshest realities or whatever you need an escape from). It’s the ability to live in the moment. It’s learning the hard way…even when it’s too late.
But in the story of Icarus, (if by chance you are unfamiliar, here's the “Cliff Notes”) it’s about... well, for me, it’s about WANTING - wanting to escape, wanting to be free, wanting that which seems elusive at best - and wanting it so badly that nothing else matters – and this can be about the “wanting” of anything - you actually yearn for it. You yearn for those things you feel are missing from your life - until you find them - because once you find them - then there's no longer a need. Until then, the warnings don’t matter; those who care about you don’t matter. Well, they do, but not at the moment you take [your hypothetical] flight.
It’s selfish. You’re selfish. I'm selfish. But we're flying. How can this be and how can anything else matter? And from this, Adam Duritz created Insignificant. He said, *“It’s about jumping off a building and seeing it as flight, a retreat from life. But it’s still sort of beautiful. [The character in the song] doesn’t want to be insignificant, and mean nothing.”
Who would?
Listen to Insignificant. Of all the things you can feel... happy, sad, jealous, empowered, bitter, strong, proud, elated, surreal, etc… but to feel insignificant must be the worst of all. (As if Counting Crows or Duritz himself could ever be insignificant. He’s one in a million. We all are. And that’s a good thing.)
I’ve often said if I could spend 24 hours in someone else’s mind, it would be that of Bill Gate. I find Duritz to be a very close second.
Can you see me?
I’m one in a million
I am Icarus falling
Out of the sun
(Counting Crows/Insignificant/Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings)
*Quote excerpt courtesy of bonus Track by Track Interview with Adam Duritz downloaded from iTunes. I ordered the deluxe edition. Didn't everyone?)
Sunday, March 30, 2008
And I Would Be Lying If I Didn't Tell You The Truth
Thank you Counting Crows for Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings. It’s killer. It’s beautiful. It’s letting go. It’s believing. It’s poignant. It’s sin. It’s regret. And then you do it all over again… and again… and again.
I’m so obsessed (I’ve long admitted to my OCD kicking in when it comes to good music) with one song that I’ve devoted this blog to it and it alone (as opposed to the entire CD which was my original intent. It ROCKS, by the way!) So, here goes…
“People will leave you behind...and you find yourself waiting. Endlessly waiting.” Adam Duritz said this in 2006, while performing in Las Vegas at Red Rocks right before singing Angels of the Silences. And that particular string of words resonated with a lot of people, including me.
Now think about the fact that his girlfriend broke up with him, his grandmother passed away, and he lost a couple of great friends soon after that. Further remember that he turned us on to and is a big fan of Stew (aka TNP) and Stew’s song “Come Down Now.” (Stew’s lyrics: “Remove your bandage so I can see your damage.”) You SHOULD be familiar with this song.
Combine all these ingredients together and you will see how and why Le Ballet D’or was born. It’s beautiful.
Wasting time running scared
When all love needs is to be believed in…
So come now
Let’s go dance to the siren’s song
Come now
Leave your damage behind and gone…
I’m so obsessed (I’ve long admitted to my OCD kicking in when it comes to good music) with one song that I’ve devoted this blog to it and it alone (as opposed to the entire CD which was my original intent. It ROCKS, by the way!) So, here goes…
“People will leave you behind...and you find yourself waiting. Endlessly waiting.” Adam Duritz said this in 2006, while performing in Las Vegas at Red Rocks right before singing Angels of the Silences. And that particular string of words resonated with a lot of people, including me.
Now think about the fact that his girlfriend broke up with him, his grandmother passed away, and he lost a couple of great friends soon after that. Further remember that he turned us on to and is a big fan of Stew (aka TNP) and Stew’s song “Come Down Now.” (Stew’s lyrics: “Remove your bandage so I can see your damage.”) You SHOULD be familiar with this song.
Combine all these ingredients together and you will see how and why Le Ballet D’or was born. It’s beautiful.
Wasting time running scared
When all love needs is to be believed in…
So come now
Let’s go dance to the siren’s song
Come now
Leave your damage behind and gone…
And I would be lying if I didn't tell you the truth.
They will leave you, they will leave you behind.
The truth of the words tear into your flesh with Duritz’s voice sharp as a dagger. You can feel his pain and it will stir up any of your own that you thought you’ve long since laid to rest.
Yet there is also a feeling of “cleansing” to it. I feel it but I just don’t have the words to describe it. So you need to listen to it and feel what you feel.
Counting Crows continue to amaze (well worth the 5 year wait).
…And I would be lying if I didn’t tell you the truth:
I love this CD and think you will too.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Looking Forward to Spring and New Beginnings
I am, by most accounts, a pretty tough chick. (That is to say, one that is strong on the outside even though my insides might be crumbling.) Those that know me well will not dispute this. Like most, I’ve been through my share (and then some) in life that gives the “rite of passage” to that title – and most of you have it too. Luckily I have sarcasm and wit to get me through and keep me grounded – along with some really great friends!
I won’t go into it here, of course, about how many times the shoe dropped, and then the floor, and then…how it all went pitch black. I won’t say that I’ve been through more or less than any of you, just that like many of you, I’ve been through the ringer more than once. I sometimes wonder how I still function when there are days I seem to be hanging on by my thumbs. But then, one of my favorite sayings goes something like this:
That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
It’s that whisper of a voice inside my head and I cling to it like a child to a blanket.
I am stronger.
No matter how strong or tough or resilient I may proclaim to be, nothing could have prepared me for the flood of raw emotions that washed over me the day I left my office of many, many, many years. It was a long, lone walk to my car. I left my friends, my knowledge, my comfort zone, my five weeks vacation, my freedom, my worklife as I know it. I snuck out like a thief in the night. The brave girl was no more than a coward that day. But you do what you have to in order to survive – in this case it was emotional survival.
I tried to view this as I would the season of Spring – a new beginning – a fresh start – exactly what my life needs.
So I’m just going to thank my friends and co-workers for some of the things I gleaned from them over the years.
To:
TB – Cynicism and wit, brains and sarcasm. Faith. Friendship
KM - Access conversations that no one else could understand, patience, guidance, patience, mentoring, patience, blogging,…(did I mention patience?)
JMC - Coffee, T-time, breaks, vending trees, laughter, truth, and nobility
And the rest of the crew for one or more of the following:
Bluefly
Concerts, JR and AD, Tear bottles, cats and coffee, August and Everything After
Bobbie Brown brick. Skirts, never shorts
Orazio
Math help; Grey Goose
The New Yorker, dressing to the 9’s
Compliments
Advice: Never put anything in writing. Flat lines. Trust. Integrity
Pushing me and believing in me
Every “good morning” and the bad ones too
Sharing of birthdays and secrets
Demonstrativeness
Honesty, funny stories, genuineness, Courage under fire
“Whatever!”
The coolest gift certificate to the coolest gallery; flavored coffee
My freedom
Chats about mothers
Contacts, more laughter, morning coffee, a new song each day
…And all of these things, in their own way, are now part of me. I take them with me and I am grateful for these little treasures for they are priceless.
And always trying to be uplifting, someone said, “It will be interesting to see where your life is one year from now.”
It’s been 6 months. I have a new job, my own office with a window, a new title or hat to be worn, new responsibilities and new friends.
I don’t know why I landed here but I did – and like a cat (KAT), I landed on my feet.
So far so good.
Oh, and someone I met has concert ticket connections. Timing is everything! ;)
I won’t go into it here, of course, about how many times the shoe dropped, and then the floor, and then…how it all went pitch black. I won’t say that I’ve been through more or less than any of you, just that like many of you, I’ve been through the ringer more than once. I sometimes wonder how I still function when there are days I seem to be hanging on by my thumbs. But then, one of my favorite sayings goes something like this:
That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
It’s that whisper of a voice inside my head and I cling to it like a child to a blanket.
I am stronger.
No matter how strong or tough or resilient I may proclaim to be, nothing could have prepared me for the flood of raw emotions that washed over me the day I left my office of many, many, many years. It was a long, lone walk to my car. I left my friends, my knowledge, my comfort zone, my five weeks vacation, my freedom, my worklife as I know it. I snuck out like a thief in the night. The brave girl was no more than a coward that day. But you do what you have to in order to survive – in this case it was emotional survival.
I tried to view this as I would the season of Spring – a new beginning – a fresh start – exactly what my life needs.
So I’m just going to thank my friends and co-workers for some of the things I gleaned from them over the years.
To:
TB – Cynicism and wit, brains and sarcasm. Faith. Friendship
KM - Access conversations that no one else could understand, patience, guidance, patience, mentoring, patience, blogging,…(did I mention patience?)
JMC - Coffee, T-time, breaks, vending trees, laughter, truth, and nobility
And the rest of the crew for one or more of the following:
Bluefly
Concerts, JR and AD, Tear bottles, cats and coffee, August and Everything After
Bobbie Brown brick. Skirts, never shorts
Orazio
Math help; Grey Goose
The New Yorker, dressing to the 9’s
Compliments
Advice: Never put anything in writing. Flat lines. Trust. Integrity
Pushing me and believing in me
Every “good morning” and the bad ones too
Sharing of birthdays and secrets
Demonstrativeness
Honesty, funny stories, genuineness, Courage under fire
“Whatever!”
The coolest gift certificate to the coolest gallery; flavored coffee
My freedom
Chats about mothers
Contacts, more laughter, morning coffee, a new song each day
…And all of these things, in their own way, are now part of me. I take them with me and I am grateful for these little treasures for they are priceless.
And always trying to be uplifting, someone said, “It will be interesting to see where your life is one year from now.”
It’s been 6 months. I have a new job, my own office with a window, a new title or hat to be worn, new responsibilities and new friends.
I don’t know why I landed here but I did – and like a cat (KAT), I landed on my feet.
So far so good.
Oh, and someone I met has concert ticket connections. Timing is everything! ;)
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
You Can't Count On Me
If you think you need to go
If you wanted to be free
There’s just one thing you need to know
And that’s that
You can’t count on me
Like every other CC fan, I am counting down to Counting Crows. The big day is March 25th. The first song they’ve released is You Can’t Count on Me. Give it a listen. CC rocks and Adam sizzles. My friend Steve summed it up perfectly (likening it to his attraction to Alicia Keyes) – you’re attracted for all the right reasons and all the wrong ones too.
I’ve already heard 5 of the songs from SNASM, and can tell you my favorite – it’s called Insignificant. I want to jump on stage in my stilettos and sing with Adam in his bare feet! This is my new Angels of the Silences (the original version) - the song that allows me to yell and sing, and exercise all those nasty demons that occasionally reside inside me. Something about both these songs gives me new energy and strength and, oddly enough, clarity.
I will more than likely “pre-order” Counting Crows new CD entitled Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings(SNASM). I truly miss the days of walking into Tommy Edward’s Record Heaven and sorting through the bins to find my treasure! Or talking to one of the storeowners and having them play a 45 for me, to make sure it didn’t skip before I purchased it. I miss seeing album covers plaster the walls of the store. I miss searching for my 45 and the feeling that welled inside of me of pure bliss when I found it and held it my hands – it was magical. I couldn’t wait to get home – I was practically crawling out of my skin to give it a listen – and then, I’d play my favorite song over and over and over and over – until my parents begged me to stop or put on my headphones. I’d listen to it as loud as I could - until the vibrations knocked off any poor knickknack that I carelessly placed upon my speakers. This time, however I will be just as ecstatic to open the brown Amazon box and take out my CC treasure.
I find, for me, that it is rare I listen to a CD it its entirety. I usually end up skipping a few songs or fast forwarding – basically moving about and getting to my favorites. Not so with the CC boys – it’ll be a guilty pleasure to actually listen to a CD all the way through – and I’ll read the liner notes too!
As it turns out, this is going to be quite a challenging week for me. There is an event coming up at work (aka my new gig) that I have been put in charge of. Basically its success or failure will lead to me. There are a myriad of people counting on me and, every time they tell me that, like it’s supposed to mean something to me, I smile...because secretly I’m thinking their fools, and they need to know what Adam knows -
And that's that
You can’t count on me
If you wanted to be free
There’s just one thing you need to know
And that’s that
You can’t count on me
Like every other CC fan, I am counting down to Counting Crows. The big day is March 25th. The first song they’ve released is You Can’t Count on Me. Give it a listen. CC rocks and Adam sizzles. My friend Steve summed it up perfectly (likening it to his attraction to Alicia Keyes) – you’re attracted for all the right reasons and all the wrong ones too.
I’ve already heard 5 of the songs from SNASM, and can tell you my favorite – it’s called Insignificant. I want to jump on stage in my stilettos and sing with Adam in his bare feet! This is my new Angels of the Silences (the original version) - the song that allows me to yell and sing, and exercise all those nasty demons that occasionally reside inside me. Something about both these songs gives me new energy and strength and, oddly enough, clarity.
I will more than likely “pre-order” Counting Crows new CD entitled Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings(SNASM). I truly miss the days of walking into Tommy Edward’s Record Heaven and sorting through the bins to find my treasure! Or talking to one of the storeowners and having them play a 45 for me, to make sure it didn’t skip before I purchased it. I miss seeing album covers plaster the walls of the store. I miss searching for my 45 and the feeling that welled inside of me of pure bliss when I found it and held it my hands – it was magical. I couldn’t wait to get home – I was practically crawling out of my skin to give it a listen – and then, I’d play my favorite song over and over and over and over – until my parents begged me to stop or put on my headphones. I’d listen to it as loud as I could - until the vibrations knocked off any poor knickknack that I carelessly placed upon my speakers. This time, however I will be just as ecstatic to open the brown Amazon box and take out my CC treasure.
I find, for me, that it is rare I listen to a CD it its entirety. I usually end up skipping a few songs or fast forwarding – basically moving about and getting to my favorites. Not so with the CC boys – it’ll be a guilty pleasure to actually listen to a CD all the way through – and I’ll read the liner notes too!
As it turns out, this is going to be quite a challenging week for me. There is an event coming up at work (aka my new gig) that I have been put in charge of. Basically its success or failure will lead to me. There are a myriad of people counting on me and, every time they tell me that, like it’s supposed to mean something to me, I smile...because secretly I’m thinking their fools, and they need to know what Adam knows -
And that's that
You can’t count on me
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Happy Birthday Grammys
I have been around for 46, almost 47 years of the Grammys' existence. I can say with great enthusiasm and passion that music makes me who I am, what I am and how I live. I am not a musician, nor do I pretend to be. I am, like you, just a fan of great music. Tonight, the world of music will convene en mass to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Grammy; that little statue that means the most to an artist.
My friend Trixxxie Rix will not be in attendance this year. I could still kick myself in the ass as she asked me a few years back if I wanted to go with her to the Grammys. I could not fit it into my schedule and get the time off of work since at that time, I worked for Satan. More blogs to follow about that damn nightmare. Any who, she will be at home, like I, watching from a far instead of sunny LA. Trixxxie is in the mic biz and gets some perks from her work with respect to going to concerts, awards shows and the like. She has good street cred with the artists, they dig her. I was with her at the Billy Joel gig here in C-Town this summer and was in awe of her and how she rep'ed her company, and how she just smoothly went about her business. I dig her.
I suppose we both won't get to see Amy Winehouse. I have not one freaking clue as to why this chick fascinates me so damn much. It could be her tattoos, mostly cuz they are ole school and not that crap that the so called tattoo artists of today slap on you and stick a needle of ink to. She has them in good spots, good shading and they look like they just belong there. She is enjoying her skin while she is in it for sure. She also is apparently enjoying the hooch as well. She keeps a bottle handy as one line claims. My question is; just who is Mr. Hathaway? It appears from her words in "Rehab" that Mr. Hathaway just might have all of the answers to her troubles and woes. I sure as hell wish I knew Mr. Hathaway when I was falling down drunk and puking all over myself.
Whether or not we attend this most celebrated event of honoring those musicians and singers, composers, arrangers or the like, we still get to see and hear them in our living rooms tonight. Thanks to Santa Claus, I get to now watch in awe on an LCD Digital TV, or whatever it is. Hearing the melodic tones of Ms Winehouse come through my surround sound will be just what I need to make the ceremonies complete. Would I rather be sitting in the audience with Trixxxie, hell yes, but this will have to do for now. I will still have the music in me. I hope that it is in everyone. Celebrating music and letting it enrich our lives is something that a lot of us probably do on a daily basis. Music is everywhere and we rely on it as much as we do food and water. The lyrics literally speak to us, not at us. Words originating on paper, or a pizza box, coming through your speakers, and smacking you in your mind, your soul, making your heart sing a long.
Happy Birthday, Grammys. Oh, and Ms. Winehouse, if I may, you speak of 70 days, here in the U.S. it is 90 days, 90 meetings. And Mr. Hathaway does not exist if you wish to get clean and sober; it is Dr. Bob and Bill W. And if I may return the favor of saying something about "rehab", it is this; Rehab is for quitters. Get it? I knew that you would. Good luck baby, in all of this.
My friend Trixxxie Rix will not be in attendance this year. I could still kick myself in the ass as she asked me a few years back if I wanted to go with her to the Grammys. I could not fit it into my schedule and get the time off of work since at that time, I worked for Satan. More blogs to follow about that damn nightmare. Any who, she will be at home, like I, watching from a far instead of sunny LA. Trixxxie is in the mic biz and gets some perks from her work with respect to going to concerts, awards shows and the like. She has good street cred with the artists, they dig her. I was with her at the Billy Joel gig here in C-Town this summer and was in awe of her and how she rep'ed her company, and how she just smoothly went about her business. I dig her.
I suppose we both won't get to see Amy Winehouse. I have not one freaking clue as to why this chick fascinates me so damn much. It could be her tattoos, mostly cuz they are ole school and not that crap that the so called tattoo artists of today slap on you and stick a needle of ink to. She has them in good spots, good shading and they look like they just belong there. She is enjoying her skin while she is in it for sure. She also is apparently enjoying the hooch as well. She keeps a bottle handy as one line claims. My question is; just who is Mr. Hathaway? It appears from her words in "Rehab" that Mr. Hathaway just might have all of the answers to her troubles and woes. I sure as hell wish I knew Mr. Hathaway when I was falling down drunk and puking all over myself.
Whether or not we attend this most celebrated event of honoring those musicians and singers, composers, arrangers or the like, we still get to see and hear them in our living rooms tonight. Thanks to Santa Claus, I get to now watch in awe on an LCD Digital TV, or whatever it is. Hearing the melodic tones of Ms Winehouse come through my surround sound will be just what I need to make the ceremonies complete. Would I rather be sitting in the audience with Trixxxie, hell yes, but this will have to do for now. I will still have the music in me. I hope that it is in everyone. Celebrating music and letting it enrich our lives is something that a lot of us probably do on a daily basis. Music is everywhere and we rely on it as much as we do food and water. The lyrics literally speak to us, not at us. Words originating on paper, or a pizza box, coming through your speakers, and smacking you in your mind, your soul, making your heart sing a long.
Happy Birthday, Grammys. Oh, and Ms. Winehouse, if I may, you speak of 70 days, here in the U.S. it is 90 days, 90 meetings. And Mr. Hathaway does not exist if you wish to get clean and sober; it is Dr. Bob and Bill W. And if I may return the favor of saying something about "rehab", it is this; Rehab is for quitters. Get it? I knew that you would. Good luck baby, in all of this.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
The Blessing
I’ve met so many new people through my new job. I’m, unfortunately, one of “those people”... a person who is truly terrible at remembering names. I’m getting better.
A few weeks ago I met one of the field workers. We were introduced through a mutual co-worker. He is an alcoholic. A recovering alcoholic because as he says, “I’m still an alcoholic. It’s not called alcohol-wasm, it’s called alcohol-ism.” He knows who he is. He knows who he wants to be and who he doesn’t want to be. He knows he is always “one drink away.” He carries the “coins” in his pocket. He reminds me of another friend.
He is a biker who used to ride with Hell’s Angels, though he never wore their colors nor bore their patch. He still does poker runs. He’ll be going to Vegas in the springtime.
His name I will never forget.
My friend Jim has found his freedom and his faith. If you’ve ever been on a motorcycle, you know that kind of freedom. As for faith, Jim can both bless and baptize you. After a minor injury, he stopped in to see me. We talked about his health, his well-being, and a myriad of other things. I was having a horrible morning and he could sense it even though I thought I was doing remarkably well at hiding it.
He asked me, “Has anyone told you today that you are special and absolutely wonderful just the way are?” I said nothing. He continued.
“Has anyone told you that someone loves you very much and is grateful you are part of their life and this world?” I just listened. Sometimes we forget to just listen.
“Then can I give you this blessing today?” Yes. Thank you. I just smiled and nodded at him.
It was the nicest thing anyone had said and done to me that week. It reminded me of my friend Teri who got me reading Anne LaMott because, “She has a knack for finding God in the oddest places.”
To Thine Own Self Be True
(That's what's on the coin - but some of you already knew that.)
Sometimes we just have to count our blessings. And all that being said, please allow me to introduce my friend, Hennessy. Since Kevin has left the Gut for bigger and better things (you know where to find him), I’ve asked Hennessy to help me out here at the Gut. I’ve had the pleasure of being part of his inner circle. I’ve read some of his work because he trusted me enough to do so (and vice versa).
They say a writer cuts himself open and “bleeds” all over the paper. He definitely delves emotionally deeper than I allow myself and I have enjoyed everything of his that I’ve read. I think you will too.
So Hennessy…Welcome and thank you for saying yes.
A few weeks ago I met one of the field workers. We were introduced through a mutual co-worker. He is an alcoholic. A recovering alcoholic because as he says, “I’m still an alcoholic. It’s not called alcohol-wasm, it’s called alcohol-ism.” He knows who he is. He knows who he wants to be and who he doesn’t want to be. He knows he is always “one drink away.” He carries the “coins” in his pocket. He reminds me of another friend.
He is a biker who used to ride with Hell’s Angels, though he never wore their colors nor bore their patch. He still does poker runs. He’ll be going to Vegas in the springtime.
His name I will never forget.
My friend Jim has found his freedom and his faith. If you’ve ever been on a motorcycle, you know that kind of freedom. As for faith, Jim can both bless and baptize you. After a minor injury, he stopped in to see me. We talked about his health, his well-being, and a myriad of other things. I was having a horrible morning and he could sense it even though I thought I was doing remarkably well at hiding it.
He asked me, “Has anyone told you today that you are special and absolutely wonderful just the way are?” I said nothing. He continued.
“Has anyone told you that someone loves you very much and is grateful you are part of their life and this world?” I just listened. Sometimes we forget to just listen.
“Then can I give you this blessing today?” Yes. Thank you. I just smiled and nodded at him.
It was the nicest thing anyone had said and done to me that week. It reminded me of my friend Teri who got me reading Anne LaMott because, “She has a knack for finding God in the oddest places.”
To Thine Own Self Be True
(That's what's on the coin - but some of you already knew that.)
Sometimes we just have to count our blessings. And all that being said, please allow me to introduce my friend, Hennessy. Since Kevin has left the Gut for bigger and better things (you know where to find him), I’ve asked Hennessy to help me out here at the Gut. I’ve had the pleasure of being part of his inner circle. I’ve read some of his work because he trusted me enough to do so (and vice versa).
They say a writer cuts himself open and “bleeds” all over the paper. He definitely delves emotionally deeper than I allow myself and I have enjoyed everything of his that I’ve read. I think you will too.
So Hennessy…Welcome and thank you for saying yes.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Goodbye to "the Gut"
After three years of on-again, off-again posting at my local free blog, I'm officially hanging it up. I'm not retiring, though, I'm fulfilling another one of my goals/dreams: to run my own website!
Through the generosity of my friend Jason at the Sports Gaming Nation, I'm now running a website named Middle Aged Gamer. The content will be similar to what I've posted here over the years, but with more of a focus on gaming, and hopefully with a little more depth.
It's been a great ride at "The Gut," and I'm happy to turnover the keys to Kellie. The Gut is hers to do with what she wishes. Whatever that is, I'll still be tuned in...
Kevin
Through the generosity of my friend Jason at the Sports Gaming Nation, I'm now running a website named Middle Aged Gamer. The content will be similar to what I've posted here over the years, but with more of a focus on gaming, and hopefully with a little more depth.
It's been a great ride at "The Gut," and I'm happy to turnover the keys to Kellie. The Gut is hers to do with what she wishes. Whatever that is, I'll still be tuned in...
Kevin
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Fears, Phobias and a Little More Freud...
What do you fear?
What is fear?
According to my favorite site OneLook.com, it is defined as “an emotion experienced in anticipation of some specific pain or danger (usually accompanied by a desire to flee or fight).”
After reading all the responses, it’s crystal clear that what scares the hell out of us more than anything is loss of loved ones. Not surprising. No one listed or seemed to consider their own mortality. The only one that came close was fear of drowning. I know how powerful the ocean is. I remember being in Hawaii when a wave took me in and out several times before I finally made it to shore. The water no sooner tossed me back to the sand than it just as swiftly carried me back out with a powerful grip my flailing arms and legs could not fight. Only when the ocean itself decided to calm, could I ride the wave back to the safety of the sandy beach.
Many of our fears such as fear of spiders, high places, bridges, mice, etc., fall under the phobia category as well.
So what’s a phobia? Once again, from OneLook.com - “an anxiety disorder characterized by extreme and irrational fear of simple things or social situations.”
(I’d hardly classify a silverfish as “simple thing” but I digress!)
Franklin D. Roosevelt said, “There is nothing to fear but fear itself.”
(I’m betting he never got trapped in an elevator with a spider the size of his shoe!)
My neighbor once got trapped in an elevator when going to see her doctor. She had also taken her water pill. Yes, there is a specific phobia for that too. It’s called “urophobia!” Hey, I don’t make this stuff up!
Me, I’m a “germophobe!” Ask anyone. If you’re sick, you better stay clear of me. I carry a bottle of antibacterial spritz in my purse. I have a bottle of Purell on my desk.
I wipe of the shopping cart and usually have a barrier between my hand and any door handle.
One of my co-workers hates driving when it’s icy outside. Since the real fear here is that driving on ice could result in a dangerous situation, it would likely falls under “fear of having an accident” or dystychiphobia.
My friend CC was afraid, while riding a rollercoaster, that the contents of her stomach might reveal itself. Can you guess that phobia? Aeronausiphobia!
Another friend nearly sold their home due to the “infestation of mice” (I think there were 2 in the entire house)! She’s a “murophobe!’ (Murophobia – fear of mice and rats).
For a couple of us, anxiety seemed to peek whenever we discovered a police vehicle behind us! Even if you are going the speed limit, traveling with children, wearing your seat belt, and doing absolutely nothing but acting like a conscientious driver, seeing the police car in your rear view mirror induced a little panic. Could it be fear of authority figures? Or are we so jaded that all we can think is that this officer needs to meet his ticket quota?
Some other wild fears included being buried alive, getting locked in a trunk and annual reviews at work. I happen to love annual reviews – my boss usually dreads mine more than I do! Maybe I’m just getting better and wearing them down!
Now this is one I hadn’t thought of in many, many moons. Do you remember the “trust game?” It’s where you fall backwards and pray to God the person will catch you. I am definitely a person who has “trust issues” so I can absolutely relate to this one.
Big thanks to all my friends for their contributions to this blog.
Here are a few additional phobias that were either mentioned or just plain interesting!
Arachnophobia – Fear of spiders
Aeroacrophobia - Fear of open high places
Agoraphobia - Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place. Fear of crowds.
Cleisiophobia - Fear of being locked in an enclosed place
Dentophobia - Fear of dentist
Elurophobia - Fear of cats
Entomophobia - Fear of insects
Gephydrophobia - Fear of crossing bridges
Glossophobia - Fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak
Hemophobia - Fear of blood
Katagelophobia - Fear of ridicule
Nyctophobia - Fear of the dark or of the night.
Ochlophobia - Fear of crowds or mobs.
Ornithophobia - Fear of birds
Paraskavedekatriaphobia - Fear of Friday the 13th
Pentheraphobia - Fear of mother-in-law
And finally, according to Psychoanalyst Freud, phobias are a defense against anxiety produced by repressed impulses. Anxiety is moved to an object or situation and then becomes the phobic stimulus. In order to not deal with the repressed conflict, the person tries to avoid the object or situation. (Source: http://web4health.info/en/answers/anx-phobias-general.htm)
Here’s hoping we all conquer at least one of our fears!
What is fear?
According to my favorite site OneLook.com, it is defined as “an emotion experienced in anticipation of some specific pain or danger (usually accompanied by a desire to flee or fight).”
After reading all the responses, it’s crystal clear that what scares the hell out of us more than anything is loss of loved ones. Not surprising. No one listed or seemed to consider their own mortality. The only one that came close was fear of drowning. I know how powerful the ocean is. I remember being in Hawaii when a wave took me in and out several times before I finally made it to shore. The water no sooner tossed me back to the sand than it just as swiftly carried me back out with a powerful grip my flailing arms and legs could not fight. Only when the ocean itself decided to calm, could I ride the wave back to the safety of the sandy beach.
Many of our fears such as fear of spiders, high places, bridges, mice, etc., fall under the phobia category as well.
So what’s a phobia? Once again, from OneLook.com - “an anxiety disorder characterized by extreme and irrational fear of simple things or social situations.”
(I’d hardly classify a silverfish as “simple thing” but I digress!)
Franklin D. Roosevelt said, “There is nothing to fear but fear itself.”
(I’m betting he never got trapped in an elevator with a spider the size of his shoe!)
My neighbor once got trapped in an elevator when going to see her doctor. She had also taken her water pill. Yes, there is a specific phobia for that too. It’s called “urophobia!” Hey, I don’t make this stuff up!
Me, I’m a “germophobe!” Ask anyone. If you’re sick, you better stay clear of me. I carry a bottle of antibacterial spritz in my purse. I have a bottle of Purell on my desk.
I wipe of the shopping cart and usually have a barrier between my hand and any door handle.
One of my co-workers hates driving when it’s icy outside. Since the real fear here is that driving on ice could result in a dangerous situation, it would likely falls under “fear of having an accident” or dystychiphobia.
My friend CC was afraid, while riding a rollercoaster, that the contents of her stomach might reveal itself. Can you guess that phobia? Aeronausiphobia!
Another friend nearly sold their home due to the “infestation of mice” (I think there were 2 in the entire house)! She’s a “murophobe!’ (Murophobia – fear of mice and rats).
For a couple of us, anxiety seemed to peek whenever we discovered a police vehicle behind us! Even if you are going the speed limit, traveling with children, wearing your seat belt, and doing absolutely nothing but acting like a conscientious driver, seeing the police car in your rear view mirror induced a little panic. Could it be fear of authority figures? Or are we so jaded that all we can think is that this officer needs to meet his ticket quota?
Some other wild fears included being buried alive, getting locked in a trunk and annual reviews at work. I happen to love annual reviews – my boss usually dreads mine more than I do! Maybe I’m just getting better and wearing them down!
Now this is one I hadn’t thought of in many, many moons. Do you remember the “trust game?” It’s where you fall backwards and pray to God the person will catch you. I am definitely a person who has “trust issues” so I can absolutely relate to this one.
Big thanks to all my friends for their contributions to this blog.
Here are a few additional phobias that were either mentioned or just plain interesting!
Arachnophobia – Fear of spiders
Aeroacrophobia - Fear of open high places
Agoraphobia - Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place. Fear of crowds.
Cleisiophobia - Fear of being locked in an enclosed place
Dentophobia - Fear of dentist
Elurophobia - Fear of cats
Entomophobia - Fear of insects
Gephydrophobia - Fear of crossing bridges
Glossophobia - Fear of speaking in public or of trying to speak
Hemophobia - Fear of blood
Katagelophobia - Fear of ridicule
Nyctophobia - Fear of the dark or of the night.
Ochlophobia - Fear of crowds or mobs.
Ornithophobia - Fear of birds
Paraskavedekatriaphobia - Fear of Friday the 13th
Pentheraphobia - Fear of mother-in-law
And finally, according to Psychoanalyst Freud, phobias are a defense against anxiety produced by repressed impulses. Anxiety is moved to an object or situation and then becomes the phobic stimulus. In order to not deal with the repressed conflict, the person tries to avoid the object or situation. (Source: http://web4health.info/en/answers/anx-phobias-general.htm)
Here’s hoping we all conquer at least one of our fears!
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Godzilla Review Posted
The short of it: stay far, far, away. Here are the details.
Bill, my editor, mentioned that they might be trying some new things at Gameshark this year. It sounds like they want more features and other "extra" type stuff, and less of the standard reviews. He mentioned something about all of us using our "industry contacts" to come up with some ideas. Uh, suddenly I feel even farther out of the loop than before. Some of the guys and gals on staff are true freelancers, and they can provide exactly what Bill is looking for. I just write filler for the crappy games! I'm wondering what kind of role I'll have in the future... Hmm...
If I can't contribute there anymore, I'll look back with no regrets. I've had a great ride. I'd like to still be a part of it, but we'll see if I fit in. If not, I'll just move on to something else.
Bill, my editor, mentioned that they might be trying some new things at Gameshark this year. It sounds like they want more features and other "extra" type stuff, and less of the standard reviews. He mentioned something about all of us using our "industry contacts" to come up with some ideas. Uh, suddenly I feel even farther out of the loop than before. Some of the guys and gals on staff are true freelancers, and they can provide exactly what Bill is looking for. I just write filler for the crappy games! I'm wondering what kind of role I'll have in the future... Hmm...
If I can't contribute there anymore, I'll look back with no regrets. I've had a great ride. I'd like to still be a part of it, but we'll see if I fit in. If not, I'll just move on to something else.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Gift Wrapped
Ohio State absolutely gift-wrapped that game for LSU last night. Ridiculous penalties, untimely turnovers, and the lack of players "making plays" doomed Ohio State to its second straight loss. All of the talking heads will call this a blowout, and stroke themselves over the supposed SEC domination (see: Forde, Pat), but ultimately, Ohio State lost because they made too many dumb mistakes, which is uncharacteristic of a Tressel team. I've also yet to hear a talking head identify the true turning point in this game, when sure-handed Brian Robiskie dropped a touchdown pass that would've given OSU a 17-10 lead. LSU subsequently blocked the field goal, and momentum officially swung their way. If OSU stems the tide with that touchdown, they stay in the game, period.
Despite all of that, they still had their chances. My gut aches for Austin Spitler, who somehow missed the ball on that attempted punt block on 4th and 23, which resulted in LSU getting the ball back and scoring to just about put it out of reach. Had he made that block, or avoided contact, it's 24-10 early in the third, with OSU having a chance to gain the momentum back yet again.
As Coach Cooper used to say, "If 'if's' and 'but's' were candy and nuts, it'd be Christmas every day." The bottom line is that LSU won the game. I tip my cap to them. But this year was nothing like last year's debacle. Ohio State was in this game, and could've won it, if they just executed a little better at crucial times. I've said all year that OSU is a year away from being a great team, anyway. And, depending on who stays, we could very well see them in the title game next year, much to the chagrin of all of the talking heads out there. I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed for them at all, unlike last year. And, how could I complain, given that OSU has been to 3 championship games in the last 6 years? At least they're in the arena. Coach Tressel will figure out how to get them over the hump again.
Now, is it March yet?!
Despite all of that, they still had their chances. My gut aches for Austin Spitler, who somehow missed the ball on that attempted punt block on 4th and 23, which resulted in LSU getting the ball back and scoring to just about put it out of reach. Had he made that block, or avoided contact, it's 24-10 early in the third, with OSU having a chance to gain the momentum back yet again.
As Coach Cooper used to say, "If 'if's' and 'but's' were candy and nuts, it'd be Christmas every day." The bottom line is that LSU won the game. I tip my cap to them. But this year was nothing like last year's debacle. Ohio State was in this game, and could've won it, if they just executed a little better at crucial times. I've said all year that OSU is a year away from being a great team, anyway. And, depending on who stays, we could very well see them in the title game next year, much to the chagrin of all of the talking heads out there. I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed for them at all, unlike last year. And, how could I complain, given that OSU has been to 3 championship games in the last 6 years? At least they're in the arena. Coach Tressel will figure out how to get them over the hump again.
Now, is it March yet?!
Wii Are Family!
There's no doubt that the Nintendo Wii has been the big hit among the Christmas gifts. Everyone has played it, including my parents and my wife's parents, and universally they've all enjoyed it very much. What makes it so enticing is that the action on the screen truly feels like an extension of the movements you're performing with the remote, at least for most games that we've played. It's brilliant in its simplicity. It's the ultimate party game machine. And, it just feels family-friendly.
I've been gaming since I was about 7 years old, starting with the Atari 2600. Growing up, I played on the 2600, a Commodore 64, and a Tandy 1000, and I can count on one hand the number of times my mom played a video game with me. After playing Wii Sports with the kids, my mom is honestly thinking about buying one for her house, since she had so much fun with it (Dad did, too). After I told her how much it cost, she said "That's it? I was afraid it was going to be $400-$500!" No, mom, that's the other gaming machine…
Nintendo has out-foxed its competition, and struck a chord with just about everyone, based on the simplest of concepts: it's just darn fun!
I've been gaming since I was about 7 years old, starting with the Atari 2600. Growing up, I played on the 2600, a Commodore 64, and a Tandy 1000, and I can count on one hand the number of times my mom played a video game with me. After playing Wii Sports with the kids, my mom is honestly thinking about buying one for her house, since she had so much fun with it (Dad did, too). After I told her how much it cost, she said "That's it? I was afraid it was going to be $400-$500!" No, mom, that's the other gaming machine…
Nintendo has out-foxed its competition, and struck a chord with just about everyone, based on the simplest of concepts: it's just darn fun!
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