Archive for October, 2009

Weekend Memories

October 30, 2009

Lots of “moving” business needed to get done today, and it was, and part of that business was realizing I need to mow the lawn of the new place this weekend.

And that made me think of my Dad.

He and I get along well these days, but that wasn’t always the case, and our most vehement headbutting (After my belief that my grades were MINE, and so long as I wasn’t in trouble at school, he didn’t need to see them, that is; I never won that one, of course, but I’m pretty sure I made noise about it every time.) almost always involved the need for the lawn to be mowed “this weekend.”  To me, “this weekend” meant Sunday, and if it rained, then I did it next Sunday if the lawn could wait that long, the first dry afternoon that followed if it couldn’t.   

But to Dad, “this weekend” meant Saturday, because it might rain if you waited until Sunday. I don’t recall him ever actually SAYING “Saturday” mind you, but that’s what he meant.

In hindsight, this is obvious.  At the time though . . .

Well . . . our usual pattern became Dad getting angrier and angrier as Saturday progressed, until he started reminding me that I needed to get the lawn cut “this weekend,” to which my response was a predicable “Yeah, yeah.” 

I doubt I need to paint you a picture from there.  Suffice it to say that summer, when lawns need to be cut the most frequently, contained several LONG weekends in our household.

Dad got the last laugh in the end though.

That lawn I need to mow this weekend . . . I’m going to do my best to get it done on Saturday.

It might rain if I wait until Sunday, you know.

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More Silly [Bleep]

October 29, 2009

First off, it was pointed out to me I likely couldn’t post <Bleep> in a post title the other day due to the type of brackets I was using.  It turns out that was the case, and it was even something I suspected at the time; it’s just that the idea of my title being autocensored for <Bleep> was funnier.  Thanks for pointing that out though.

But on the subject of silly [bleep], here’s another permutation . . . the digital “blurring” of certain bits of anatomy on television these days, blurring that wouldn’t even fool a five year old about what was beneath it, so, again, I question the point, but it’s not scary in and of itself.

What’s SCARY is the most recent example I saw of digital blurring was in a televised version of a VERY gory and gratuitous movie where, in what I presume was done in the name  “common decency,” they  (to be blunt) blurred out the nipples, but KEPT IN THE SKULLS BEING CHEWED OPEN! 

The people in charge of making these kinds of decisions need professional help.

Seriously.

Another Quick Update

October 28, 2009

Chapter 18 is wrapped up for now, so I’m clear to do as much as I can on getting the move started for the rest of the week.  If I have time I’ll ENJOY looking over chapter 18 some more and weeding through some of those notes of mine that keep piling up, but none of that is strictly necessary at the time.

Sometimes things really DO work out.

What the . . . ?

October 27, 2009

Now don’t <bleep>ing get me wrong.  As a visit to my favorite coffee shop reminded me the other day (It’s a <bleep>ing great place!), I’m hardly offended by a little <bleep>ing strong language now and then; I was there at a shift change and the staff was so <bleep>ing involved in their conversation they momentarily forget they were in a public place and some of us didn’t <bleep>ing want to hear it.  My old boss would have <bleep>ing KILLED me for talking like that in front of customers, especially if he ever found out I called him a <bleep>.  (Even though he really WAS one of the biggest <bleeps> I’ve ever meet.)

But it got me thinking about how the “bleep” phenomenon on television has reached profoundly silly proportions, and I’ll give a quick example how with a deliberately exaggerated mash up of several stand up comedy acts I’ve seen televised lately:

“So there I was <bleep>ing this <bleep> in the <bleep>, which she was FINE with, but THEN she got all snooty when I told her to suck my <bleep>.  ‘It’s got <bleep> all over it!’ she whined, and I was like ‘<Bleep>!  You’re a big enough of a <bleep> to want me to <bleep> you in the <bleep>, so I don’t think you’ve got any right to whine over a little <bleep>!'”

I’m willing to bet most of you could fill in the bleeps enough to understand just how tacky that example was. 

Which sort of defeats the <bleep>ing purpose of the ‘bleeps,’ now doesn’t it?  Beyond a certain point . . . please turn the <bleep>ing ‘bleeps’ off, because not only are they a headache to listen to after a while, they’re a general (and pointless) pain in the <bleep> at this point.

(And speaking of pains in the <bleep>, typing <bleep> so many times was one of the biggest pains in the <bleep> I’ve had to deal with today, but it was all worth it for the laugh when I discovered WordPress wouldn’t let me title this post “What The <Bleep>?”.  It automatically DROPPED the ‘<Bleep>’ from the title.  I LOVE it when life is funnier than I am!

I’m just a little concerned about how often it happens. )

Status Update

October 26, 2009

Still working on Chapter 18 this week (various factors including illness, the upcoming move, and several plot threads coming together all contributed to slowing me down last week).  All in all this isn’t a bad thing, because it gives me THIS week to iron out Chapter 18 and generally go over my assorted notes of things to look for/again in various chapters, which SHOULD also give me enough time to prepare and plan for the first stage of moving this weekend.

That’s the theory, at least.   I’ll keep you posted.

Eternal Optimism

October 23, 2009

It’s not something listed under my current personality traits, but I’ve known my share of people who certainly had it at the top of THEIR list.  Today I found myself thinking about one person like that in particular . . . someone I’ll call “Leah.”

Leah had it all:  a rich family, a noble title, and numerous stories to tell of her adventures with ghosts and killers.    All you had to do was ask her about it . . . and ignore the dumpy little apartment space she shared with her mother and her brother.

Oh, and the fact that she was 20, telling stories that would have strained the credibility of a 5-year-old.

Leah was a liar, and not a subtle one, but I was fond of her none the less, in no small part because I knew her stories were all she had.  And for all I know there might have even been a grain of truth to some of her stories; I never found any, mind you, but I want to make it clear I acknowledge the possibility. 

I haven’t seen Leah in a long time, but I did manage . . . barely . . . to meet her at a diner when I was driving through the town that she lived.  I almost left without seeing her, because I was only driving through and couldn’t stop for long, and I ended up waiting for her at the diner for well over an hour after our appointed time.  

Her reason for being so late?

Her mother wouldn’t let her leave the house until Leah had finished putting away the laundry.

Leah was around 30 at this time.

But while I listened to her happily tell me how great things were for her (it was just like old times), she told me about the book she was working on.  She had recently written three chapters, and then promptly sent them off to a publisher. 

Now, an established author MIGHT be able to do something like that and be accepted, but there’s just not a publishing house alive that’ll advance an unknown writer a book advance and a promise to publish on the basis of three chapters, but this wouldn’t have deterred Leah regardless, and neither did the rejection letter that I knew before she told me that she had gotten.  Knowing what I know of form letter rejections, I knew she would have gotten something saying, in effect, “This is only three chapters.  Please finish the book and resubmit your manuscript if you would like it to be considered for publication.”

She had, but want to know how SHE had read it?

“This is only three chapters!  Please finish the book!”

I don’t know where she is these days, but I hope she’s still happy.  She frustrated me and concerned me in equal measure, and yet . . . through it all I found myself coming to grudgingly admire the indefatigability of her spirit. 

I hope she gets published someday.

About Yesterday

October 22, 2009

Nothing major happened, just a little . . . hiccup . . . in the moving process.  It’s all smoothed over now, I think, but it shot my work day to hell yesterday, so I’m going to keep this brief so I can try and make up for lost time.

Just wanted to let you know.

So I’m Off Today To Practice

October 21, 2009

Anyone can become angry – that is easy, but to be angry with the right person at the right time, and for the right purpose and in the right way – that is not within everyone’s power and that is not easy.

– Aristotle

The Fine Line Between Genius and Madness

October 20, 2009

Now I’m not going to give any press to the “You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” kind of rant I heard today, but it DID get me thinking about those obsessed with conspiracy theories, either one theory in particular, or those just generally obsessed.  

The problem with most conspiracy theories is that they presume a level of group motivation, coordination, and most importantly, secrecy that’s unlikely to exist given the truism that a secret held by more than one person exponentially increases the likelihood of that secret being revealed per person in the know.   The fatal flaw of most of the other theories is that they presume that such secrecy HAS been maintained . . . except for the tenuous clues they attribute to either clumsiness or a comic book villain like desire to leave clues behind, neither of which really suits a shadowy network of master planners.

Of course, history has shown that sometimes the “nutjobs” are right, and that reason alone is enough to at least listen to a theory, no matter how wild eyed the speaker.  (Though, for the record, just as one can be paranoid AND have someone really out to get them, just because someone is right doesn’t necessarily make them a model of mental stability.)   But what frightens me most about conspiracy theories, however unlikely, is something I read in the Illuminati Card Game about their theorists:  

In a nuthshell, in the game they were used as an  “idea farm” for others more capable of actually IMPLEMENTING their more plausible ideas. 

THAT’S scary.

Plans? What Plans?

October 19, 2009

Still not exactly firing on all cylinders in the health department today (Feeling draggy more than anything else), so I think I’ll forgo any involved discussions for a while longer.  In fact, after multiple unsuccessful attempts to marshal my focus enough to merely be “pithy” . . . 

Well . . . I’ve got nothing.

And don’t think it doesn’t pith me off . . . ’cause it does.