How do you make yourself feel better? No, seriously. Do you work things out in your own head? Do you talk incessantly to friends until you either talk yourself into a solution or they help you find one? Do you shop your way out of it, or around it? Do you do something constructive or DESTRUCTIVE?
Over the years, I have seen so many souls go down the path of destruction, rarely to return. One bad choice leads to another and then another. Sex, alcohol, drugs, shopping-they all have their ups but oh, so rarely. Well, that's another rant. In this instance we will assume that they're all bad. Well, not always the sex or alcohol...or shopping. Let's back up.
If you use anything to excess and it becomes a destructive excess, that should be what we're worrying about today. So, now that I've tried to clear my head of the good stuff, let's say that many of the souls I have watched self-destruct have chosen one of these common afflictions.
You have the safe alternatives of therapy, prescription drugs(yours, not the illegal kind) and friends/family. I say do what works. Combinations of all of the above with a small dose of the stuff that makes you feel good in the short term. Hey, we all need a boost. Divorce? Dont run out and have a bunch of alcohol-induced flings, maybe have one to make you feel good and then swear off relationships until you figure out what the hell happened with YOURS.
Personal trauma? Close family or friend dies or has a traumatic event? Dont drink yourself stupid, your genetics already helped that along. You dont want any less brain cells when you're trying to figure out how to move along and to prevent any further catastrophy. Alcohol is good for nights off or out, when you're trying to relax with friends or family. Sometimes it is permissable to drink LOTS of alcohol, depending on the family. You know the ones.
Drugs are never a good choice. I personally have never tried anything illegal, and yes, that includes pot. I saw a lot of friends get smoked up and I never had the desire. I do like to get tipsy when I drink(most people say I get a little silly) (what? you dont think I could be silly?) but I dont think I'd like the whole I'm-completely-out-of-control-or-incapacitated thing. Pot? I dont know....I'd try it now that i'm older, but I dont want to set a bad standard for the boys. OOOOh----Maybe a hookah pipe. Nah. I've never smoked ANTYTHING, cigarrettes included.
Talking to friends is usually a good choice, but you have to be sure of the friends. Some cant wait to squeal all the nice, juicy gossip to everyone else they know and some just dont care. They will listen long enough for you to let them play out THEIR gripes. Find the right one, male or female, someone without an agenda of their own and you're in business. Some people DO care enough to listen to you without wanting something in return. It's quite difficult sometimes depending on your personality, to find people that just like to help, but they ARE out there.
Screw Therapists. Next paragraph. Oh. You have to be beyond the help of some ear-lending friend to go see them, but.....well, let's just say "Good Luck".
It's not beyond the scope of things for you to try one or more ways to make yourself feel whole again. You have to test the waters, as it were. It's always soooooo easy to do the things that are detrimental for you. Start somewhere that's familiar. Family? Maybe. Friends? More likely. Strangers? BINGO! It's always easier to talk to a stranger. No familiarity, no repercussions when you have to see them again at the next family reunion, just pure honesty as you see fit to tell them. Strangers that will listen are the best therapy. You dont have to judge them, they dont have to judge you. No consequences. Fire and forget as they say in the military.
I'm not saying that one thing is best for everyone, I'm just throwing some stuff out there. I've always been good at listening and (GASP) talking to people, whether friend or stranger. I found a sort of therapy in writing for you all. Like I said: Do what works. Just dont do something that makes you feel good for a minute and you KNOW YOU ARE GOING TO REGRET LATER.
Oh, just for the record: buying to the point it hurts doesnt help. You hurt your family, your debt and you. Buying yourself an xbox, wii, games, waders and boots DOES help, but only after your wife got a flat screen for the bedroom and some jewelry. Make me proud out there people, and if you need an ear, I'm usually here...I'm a poet and didnt know it....:)
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
106 Post Not, Lest Ye Be Judged
I've now been on facebook a little over a year and I've come to the conclusion that some of us need a lesson on sharing, rather, NOT sharing. Sometimes.
I'd like to start by saying that I personally feel the whole purpose of us being on facebook is to reconnect with old friends, make new ones and keep each other apprised of things we deem important. The problem lies where some of you like to post things that are often very personal and intimate and then you get angry when someone comments on it.
Let's get the important part out of the way: DONT PUT SOMETHING ON HERE THAT YOU DONT WANT SOMEONE TO COMMENT ON!
You worked a lot and then had to work at home, take kids to games and make dinner? You have my admiration and condolences. Trouble at work? Again, condolences. Boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife troubles? Yep, same. The thing that really boils my carrots is when I or someone else comments on them, offering a personal suggestion about(possibly) how you can handle the given problem. We should say that if you have posted something and we feel we care enough about you to read it and be concerned, then we should(being a good friend) post our suggestion or answer. Well, maybe our condolences or regrets, it depends, right? Enter the dragon, so to speak. You opened the can of worms by baring your soul and at least in part, I dont think you have the right to get mad at the responses. The legitimate ones at least. I dont expect anyone to NOT defend an attack on your character(maybe you deserve it?) or an attack on your kid(s) unless they're hoodlums.
Isnt that the mentality? What more do you want from us? You dont post secrets unless you want people to see them. You dont go out in public in a low cut, tight blouse unless you want someone to notice the girls, right? It's exactly the same. Dont wear something revealing if you dont want people looking and dont post things you dont want people to read or comment on. I'm very sorry that your toaster repairman was found to be a bipolar cereal killer but if you dont like (yes, I said cereal) the responses that I give, keep it to your self.
Most of us feel strongly about the same things: we hate people that hurt kids, women and small animals. We dont like corporate greed and corruption in government. We bitch and moan about going to work, not having a job, not having a job we like and a host of other work-related gripes. We bitch about the poor state of schools, teachers, discipline and curriculum. We gripe about the price of gas, groceries and the cost of the useless wars we're fighting. We bitch about our weight, our sex lives(or lack of) and how "he/she done us wrong". The instant someone posts what they feel would be a helpful suggestion or idea, you get mad and the fur starts flying. Hurt feelings, spiteful words and unfriendings occur every day.
People always tend to lash out when they're insecure or they're angry and dont know an appropriate response. Do you know the old saying" we tend to hurt the ones we love"? So, if you're reading this and you can pronounce words more than two syllables, I hope the next time you see red when someone (in their own way) is trying to help you, you step back, calm donw and at the very least, say thanks for your concern and then get back to your troubles. Dont get into a shouting match, well, typing match, and dont read too much into it. Just stop and think before you hit that little enter button. If its THAT personal or THAT embarassing, DONT POST IT! You must want some kind of attention, because you DID post it, so choose your words carefully and be prepared to accept the consequences.
All this being said, I hope NONE of you quit posting about your Aunt's infected bunion or your boss's lesbian daughter that has a free web-cam(send me the address)or the squirrel that thought your husband's nuts were the right kind. I hope you all feel the need to keep your extended family in the know and if you have any interesting pictures, please, post away. Just dont be shocked when I tell you that your clothes are(nt) too revealing, your boob job went well, your an idiot for buying that ______ with a credit card or that pound cake you baked looks like its at least 3 and a half pounds.
Oh, feel free, as the season approaches, to post all the half-nekked pics you want, just not of your 375 pound uncle. Well, maybe. They may be interesting too. Kinda like watching a train wreck. You know it aint right, but man...you really just want to be mesmerized by the horror of it all. Remember: Sex sells, trauma is great as long as its not yours and watching people do stupid, embarassing things is great...as long as you cover one eye and peek through your fingers.
Oh, again--STOP POSTING IF YOU CANT HANDLE THE COMMENTS! I love you all, you're the best people I've ever been associated with and since we know each other so well, its okay to do your postings with your shirt off. And the webcam on. :)
I'd like to start by saying that I personally feel the whole purpose of us being on facebook is to reconnect with old friends, make new ones and keep each other apprised of things we deem important. The problem lies where some of you like to post things that are often very personal and intimate and then you get angry when someone comments on it.
Let's get the important part out of the way: DONT PUT SOMETHING ON HERE THAT YOU DONT WANT SOMEONE TO COMMENT ON!
You worked a lot and then had to work at home, take kids to games and make dinner? You have my admiration and condolences. Trouble at work? Again, condolences. Boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife troubles? Yep, same. The thing that really boils my carrots is when I or someone else comments on them, offering a personal suggestion about(possibly) how you can handle the given problem. We should say that if you have posted something and we feel we care enough about you to read it and be concerned, then we should(being a good friend) post our suggestion or answer. Well, maybe our condolences or regrets, it depends, right? Enter the dragon, so to speak. You opened the can of worms by baring your soul and at least in part, I dont think you have the right to get mad at the responses. The legitimate ones at least. I dont expect anyone to NOT defend an attack on your character(maybe you deserve it?) or an attack on your kid(s) unless they're hoodlums.
Isnt that the mentality? What more do you want from us? You dont post secrets unless you want people to see them. You dont go out in public in a low cut, tight blouse unless you want someone to notice the girls, right? It's exactly the same. Dont wear something revealing if you dont want people looking and dont post things you dont want people to read or comment on. I'm very sorry that your toaster repairman was found to be a bipolar cereal killer but if you dont like (yes, I said cereal) the responses that I give, keep it to your self.
Most of us feel strongly about the same things: we hate people that hurt kids, women and small animals. We dont like corporate greed and corruption in government. We bitch and moan about going to work, not having a job, not having a job we like and a host of other work-related gripes. We bitch about the poor state of schools, teachers, discipline and curriculum. We gripe about the price of gas, groceries and the cost of the useless wars we're fighting. We bitch about our weight, our sex lives(or lack of) and how "he/she done us wrong". The instant someone posts what they feel would be a helpful suggestion or idea, you get mad and the fur starts flying. Hurt feelings, spiteful words and unfriendings occur every day.
People always tend to lash out when they're insecure or they're angry and dont know an appropriate response. Do you know the old saying" we tend to hurt the ones we love"? So, if you're reading this and you can pronounce words more than two syllables, I hope the next time you see red when someone (in their own way) is trying to help you, you step back, calm donw and at the very least, say thanks for your concern and then get back to your troubles. Dont get into a shouting match, well, typing match, and dont read too much into it. Just stop and think before you hit that little enter button. If its THAT personal or THAT embarassing, DONT POST IT! You must want some kind of attention, because you DID post it, so choose your words carefully and be prepared to accept the consequences.
All this being said, I hope NONE of you quit posting about your Aunt's infected bunion or your boss's lesbian daughter that has a free web-cam(send me the address)or the squirrel that thought your husband's nuts were the right kind. I hope you all feel the need to keep your extended family in the know and if you have any interesting pictures, please, post away. Just dont be shocked when I tell you that your clothes are(nt) too revealing, your boob job went well, your an idiot for buying that ______ with a credit card or that pound cake you baked looks like its at least 3 and a half pounds.
Oh, feel free, as the season approaches, to post all the half-nekked pics you want, just not of your 375 pound uncle. Well, maybe. They may be interesting too. Kinda like watching a train wreck. You know it aint right, but man...you really just want to be mesmerized by the horror of it all. Remember: Sex sells, trauma is great as long as its not yours and watching people do stupid, embarassing things is great...as long as you cover one eye and peek through your fingers.
Oh, again--STOP POSTING IF YOU CANT HANDLE THE COMMENTS! I love you all, you're the best people I've ever been associated with and since we know each other so well, its okay to do your postings with your shirt off. And the webcam on. :)
Sunday, April 25, 2010
105 Bits of You
Yes, I know, I asked for suggestions on facebook for rant ideas. It took me all day and then I came to the conclusion that I wanted to talk about dreams. Not the kind you plan for, educate yourself or let slip away, the kind we have when we FINALLY catch a little sleep.
I think I once posted a rant about dreams I had when I was younger and they recurred throughout the years. I have had frequent dreams involving those of you from high school that I hung around the most. They usually start out with us all in a dormitory of some sort, everyone rushing around preparing for something. We are usually all wearing those old, dark colored B.D.U.'s that I wore when I first joined the army. Usually one of you will approach me and inform me of some mission that we are all supposed to go on. In the course of preparing, I always miss the transport. It's usually a different dorm or warehouse-type building, but the faces are usually the same and the scenario usually plays out the same.
I have so many vivid, ultra-real dreams, I've quit trying to remember them over the years. I tried writing them down with disastrous results. I quit dreaming for a while and it just about made me lose my mind. Isnt it odd how you panic when something that is familiar to you is no longer there? That applies to so many things in life. I felt lost without them. It didnt matter what they were or how long they lasted, I felt hollow and empty without them. It was a comfort just to have them when I slept. I suppose that would be because I rarely quit talking and they were just another avenue to chatter away while I slept.
I have dreamt of armageddon, hovering sex-goddesses and walks through hill and dale. The other night, I dreamt I was in a high mountain pasture, working on my old truck(constant occupation with that thing) and I stopped for a moment to walk a little down the lee and talk to some old friends. When I got to their trucks, an endless parade of deer, elk, horse, goats and other critters grazed their way past my old beater. I watched as a horse as big as a clydesdale walked up to it and started eating the bolts that I had scattered about. One of the guys said "Shoot it!" and I found myself holding one of my favorite varmint rifles. Oh, did I mention that the horse was as blue as a smurf? I lead him through the pasture just as I would a deer, waiting for the shot, but each time he would clear a tree or bush, I just couldnt take the shot. Not couldnt, wouldnt. The guys were screaming at me to kill it and I just couldnt do it. He meandered up the hill and along the ridge and finally, into the trees. I felt a lot of sadness, I dont attribute it to the horse being blue, as he wandered off. Even in my dreams, I know my limitations. I know I'm a good shot, I know I have at least SOME morals and I know when there's something going on that I really should be paying attention to.
I'm still not sure what that blue horse meant. He was perfect in his way, heavily muscled, well-defined shape and looking quite healthy. If you have any ideas, let me know. Oh, and the eating-all-my-truck-bolts thing was kinda weird.
I have had dreams involving adventures as far back as I can remember. I'm always questing, striving to an end. They're usually quite involved and never do I see the end. There are always goals and side-tracks, leading me toward the end, but the end never comes. I wake up at what I would consider the 75 percent mark. Bummer.
Maybe I'm not supposed to finish anything. Maybe my purpose in life is to start and get other people started. Maybe I'm supposed to set up situations and make people think to finish them on THEIR own. It's not as depressing as it sounds. In a way, I like organizing something, plotting, planning and setting the gears in motion and then setting back while others complete the task. Wow. I just analyzed my own dreams, sans encyclopedia-like dream book. Meh.
I frequently dream of those who mean the most to me: Roz and the boys, Dewey, Mike, Jen and occasionally the host of other friends I have been priveledged to know over the years. Is it weird that my dreams are so vivid? I dont think so. I have asked a lot of people and most say that when they DO dream, it's usually hazy or black and white. Several rarely experience dreams at all. Pity. I find it comforting in a way. Most of you are usually the same as when last we met and occasionally a long-dead relative will pop in for a visit.
That leads me to the last little bit of this: nightmares. I rarely have them, but when I do, they are usually a doozie. Most of the nightmares i've had are about me dying. Sometimes it has been a loved one, but most often it revolves around some slow-dying scenario for yours truly. Consciously, I'm not afraid of dying. I've seen enough of it and frankly, I think I've reconciled myself enough spiritually to deal with whatever lies ahead. In the dreams, however, I become terrified and usually wake up sweating and screaming.(sounds like a bad date)
Recurring dreams of Ultra-man, iron skillets, bouncing like a rubber ball only a lot higher, war, old friends and floating sex-goddesses seem like pretty standard stuff for old Scott, eh? I know that I can be a bit wordy and sometimes I come up with odd things to talk about, but just know that most of the time its my conscious mind and not the dream-state talking.
If you'd like to share, please let me know what recurring dreams you have. I'd really like to know and I have some ideas about the why's and how's. I'm sure you'll have some interesting and disturbing things to talk about, so let's have at it. Hay lofts, deer hunting, walking through tall grass, NATO rounds impacting concrete, flesh and bone, its all good for me. I relish every bit of it. If you're not afraid or embarassed, let me hear your favorites...or your most terrifying. I'll be here all week.
As I finish this, I'm going to go retire for the night, head to pillow, mind trying to calm down from the day and hoping to dream a little dream of you....
I think I once posted a rant about dreams I had when I was younger and they recurred throughout the years. I have had frequent dreams involving those of you from high school that I hung around the most. They usually start out with us all in a dormitory of some sort, everyone rushing around preparing for something. We are usually all wearing those old, dark colored B.D.U.'s that I wore when I first joined the army. Usually one of you will approach me and inform me of some mission that we are all supposed to go on. In the course of preparing, I always miss the transport. It's usually a different dorm or warehouse-type building, but the faces are usually the same and the scenario usually plays out the same.
I have so many vivid, ultra-real dreams, I've quit trying to remember them over the years. I tried writing them down with disastrous results. I quit dreaming for a while and it just about made me lose my mind. Isnt it odd how you panic when something that is familiar to you is no longer there? That applies to so many things in life. I felt lost without them. It didnt matter what they were or how long they lasted, I felt hollow and empty without them. It was a comfort just to have them when I slept. I suppose that would be because I rarely quit talking and they were just another avenue to chatter away while I slept.
I have dreamt of armageddon, hovering sex-goddesses and walks through hill and dale. The other night, I dreamt I was in a high mountain pasture, working on my old truck(constant occupation with that thing) and I stopped for a moment to walk a little down the lee and talk to some old friends. When I got to their trucks, an endless parade of deer, elk, horse, goats and other critters grazed their way past my old beater. I watched as a horse as big as a clydesdale walked up to it and started eating the bolts that I had scattered about. One of the guys said "Shoot it!" and I found myself holding one of my favorite varmint rifles. Oh, did I mention that the horse was as blue as a smurf? I lead him through the pasture just as I would a deer, waiting for the shot, but each time he would clear a tree or bush, I just couldnt take the shot. Not couldnt, wouldnt. The guys were screaming at me to kill it and I just couldnt do it. He meandered up the hill and along the ridge and finally, into the trees. I felt a lot of sadness, I dont attribute it to the horse being blue, as he wandered off. Even in my dreams, I know my limitations. I know I'm a good shot, I know I have at least SOME morals and I know when there's something going on that I really should be paying attention to.
I'm still not sure what that blue horse meant. He was perfect in his way, heavily muscled, well-defined shape and looking quite healthy. If you have any ideas, let me know. Oh, and the eating-all-my-truck-bolts thing was kinda weird.
I have had dreams involving adventures as far back as I can remember. I'm always questing, striving to an end. They're usually quite involved and never do I see the end. There are always goals and side-tracks, leading me toward the end, but the end never comes. I wake up at what I would consider the 75 percent mark. Bummer.
Maybe I'm not supposed to finish anything. Maybe my purpose in life is to start and get other people started. Maybe I'm supposed to set up situations and make people think to finish them on THEIR own. It's not as depressing as it sounds. In a way, I like organizing something, plotting, planning and setting the gears in motion and then setting back while others complete the task. Wow. I just analyzed my own dreams, sans encyclopedia-like dream book. Meh.
I frequently dream of those who mean the most to me: Roz and the boys, Dewey, Mike, Jen and occasionally the host of other friends I have been priveledged to know over the years. Is it weird that my dreams are so vivid? I dont think so. I have asked a lot of people and most say that when they DO dream, it's usually hazy or black and white. Several rarely experience dreams at all. Pity. I find it comforting in a way. Most of you are usually the same as when last we met and occasionally a long-dead relative will pop in for a visit.
That leads me to the last little bit of this: nightmares. I rarely have them, but when I do, they are usually a doozie. Most of the nightmares i've had are about me dying. Sometimes it has been a loved one, but most often it revolves around some slow-dying scenario for yours truly. Consciously, I'm not afraid of dying. I've seen enough of it and frankly, I think I've reconciled myself enough spiritually to deal with whatever lies ahead. In the dreams, however, I become terrified and usually wake up sweating and screaming.(sounds like a bad date)
Recurring dreams of Ultra-man, iron skillets, bouncing like a rubber ball only a lot higher, war, old friends and floating sex-goddesses seem like pretty standard stuff for old Scott, eh? I know that I can be a bit wordy and sometimes I come up with odd things to talk about, but just know that most of the time its my conscious mind and not the dream-state talking.
If you'd like to share, please let me know what recurring dreams you have. I'd really like to know and I have some ideas about the why's and how's. I'm sure you'll have some interesting and disturbing things to talk about, so let's have at it. Hay lofts, deer hunting, walking through tall grass, NATO rounds impacting concrete, flesh and bone, its all good for me. I relish every bit of it. If you're not afraid or embarassed, let me hear your favorites...or your most terrifying. I'll be here all week.
As I finish this, I'm going to go retire for the night, head to pillow, mind trying to calm down from the day and hoping to dream a little dream of you....
Monday, April 19, 2010
104 The Colorless Flag
Greed is Good. So goes the mantra spouted by a generation inspired and partly spawned by Gordon Gecko. Freedom of mind has had its price. We, or our parents, were challenging the "establishment" and allowing for less of a 9-5er mentality. Corporate takeovers replaced expanding industry and a little-known term called "outsourcing" was beginning to rear its ugly head.
Well kiddies, we "outsourced" ourself right into a depression. This is not a recession, its a fledging depression. I hope the ones that made their fortunes on a falsely-inflated stock market sleep well at night. I'm sure that 1200 thread count sheets, marble bathrooms and catered weekend parties help them. A lot. They insist to us when we watch the news that all is going to be well. Bull. All will not be well as long as you keep thinking you can use your credit card and smile politely when you hear about 2500 more jobs being sent overseas. Go ahead. Tell yourself that you cant make it if you dont use your card. I've said it a dozen times on here: you can live without your cell phone, your cable, your internet. You can live without buying brand-name clothes and eating out 5 times a week. You cannot, however, exist with a level of happiness and sanity without the love of your family and friends. You can live without a new car and a 6 figure house. You cant live without at least some pride in yourself. Some part of us still holds that vaunted work ethic, that proud ring of confidence and invincibility that used to mean "American".
We allowed the monied few to turn us into a nation of service industries. We allowed them to over-inflate our economy and our dollar and at the same time, dig a cavern under the foundation of our economy, our livelihood. Let me tell you that the vast underminings were NOT properly shored up. Now, the weight of a bloated nation is cracking the rock. It is causing the collapse of the whole thing, sea to shining sea.
We take no accountability for ourselves. Its someone else's fault. They didnt have to give me that loan. They didnt have to give me that card. They didnt have to market that thing to make me want it so bad. You didnt have to buy it either. You didnt have to sign the papers, either. You didnt have to make a new generation believe that the only way was to have the biggest, the best, the most, by simply signing on the dotted line.
Take accountability with everything you do from this day forward. Show your kids that working hard doesnt mean just to pay the credit card bills. We need the right KIND of work ethics. We need the right KIND of accountability. Do some research before you vote. There are still some people out there with morals, with good judgement. Encourage them. Write to them. Call them. Urge them to pass laws, HELL, urge them to enforce the just laws. America can be salvaged. We can change. We've done it before and we will have to do it again, if we are to remain a great Republic.
The rant I am on was the result of a dream I had last night. It was very cartoony, but it wasnt funny. I dreamt of the red-white-and-blue clad Uncle Sam, wringing and draining the last bit of color from the flag. The bucket swirled with our colors. A rusty, dingy milk pail. The flag was translucent with the lines still marking where the stars and bars used to be. He had a grim determination on his face and seemed intent on squeezing the last drop from Glory. There was a blood-stained chair sitting in the corner. I have my opinion of that chair, you make your own. His sleeves were rolled up, much as in the old posters. It used to mean we worked hard and we had a righteous determination, now, I fear, it means we dont want to soil ourselves with the dirty work.
Use less, fix more. Conserve, but enjoy yourself when you can. When you've earned it. Not when you've had enough because you have made your debt and are afraid to lie in it. (insert double entendre here). Use your voice and your vote to let politicians, lobbyists and corporate thugs, I mean, big business, know that we are not just fed up, we're done with them. We will change. We have to, or I fear we may fall. America, the greatest Republic ever known, must become a beacon again. We must cleanse our selves and our government of all that is wrong. We must take responsibility again for ourselves, first. When we have control of ourselves again, then, maybe, we can begin helping the world.
Well kiddies, we "outsourced" ourself right into a depression. This is not a recession, its a fledging depression. I hope the ones that made their fortunes on a falsely-inflated stock market sleep well at night. I'm sure that 1200 thread count sheets, marble bathrooms and catered weekend parties help them. A lot. They insist to us when we watch the news that all is going to be well. Bull. All will not be well as long as you keep thinking you can use your credit card and smile politely when you hear about 2500 more jobs being sent overseas. Go ahead. Tell yourself that you cant make it if you dont use your card. I've said it a dozen times on here: you can live without your cell phone, your cable, your internet. You can live without buying brand-name clothes and eating out 5 times a week. You cannot, however, exist with a level of happiness and sanity without the love of your family and friends. You can live without a new car and a 6 figure house. You cant live without at least some pride in yourself. Some part of us still holds that vaunted work ethic, that proud ring of confidence and invincibility that used to mean "American".
We allowed the monied few to turn us into a nation of service industries. We allowed them to over-inflate our economy and our dollar and at the same time, dig a cavern under the foundation of our economy, our livelihood. Let me tell you that the vast underminings were NOT properly shored up. Now, the weight of a bloated nation is cracking the rock. It is causing the collapse of the whole thing, sea to shining sea.
We take no accountability for ourselves. Its someone else's fault. They didnt have to give me that loan. They didnt have to give me that card. They didnt have to market that thing to make me want it so bad. You didnt have to buy it either. You didnt have to sign the papers, either. You didnt have to make a new generation believe that the only way was to have the biggest, the best, the most, by simply signing on the dotted line.
Take accountability with everything you do from this day forward. Show your kids that working hard doesnt mean just to pay the credit card bills. We need the right KIND of work ethics. We need the right KIND of accountability. Do some research before you vote. There are still some people out there with morals, with good judgement. Encourage them. Write to them. Call them. Urge them to pass laws, HELL, urge them to enforce the just laws. America can be salvaged. We can change. We've done it before and we will have to do it again, if we are to remain a great Republic.
The rant I am on was the result of a dream I had last night. It was very cartoony, but it wasnt funny. I dreamt of the red-white-and-blue clad Uncle Sam, wringing and draining the last bit of color from the flag. The bucket swirled with our colors. A rusty, dingy milk pail. The flag was translucent with the lines still marking where the stars and bars used to be. He had a grim determination on his face and seemed intent on squeezing the last drop from Glory. There was a blood-stained chair sitting in the corner. I have my opinion of that chair, you make your own. His sleeves were rolled up, much as in the old posters. It used to mean we worked hard and we had a righteous determination, now, I fear, it means we dont want to soil ourselves with the dirty work.
Use less, fix more. Conserve, but enjoy yourself when you can. When you've earned it. Not when you've had enough because you have made your debt and are afraid to lie in it. (insert double entendre here). Use your voice and your vote to let politicians, lobbyists and corporate thugs, I mean, big business, know that we are not just fed up, we're done with them. We will change. We have to, or I fear we may fall. America, the greatest Republic ever known, must become a beacon again. We must cleanse our selves and our government of all that is wrong. We must take responsibility again for ourselves, first. When we have control of ourselves again, then, maybe, we can begin helping the world.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
103 I Cant Wait.
I cant believe how many of you, my facebook friends, have kids under 15. Yes, I have one also, but what I'm talking about is you that have kids in single digits and not-yet-teens. I realize everyone's not the same and it wouldnt be an interesting world if they were, but there is a certain liberation that I have felt lately, albeit mixed with dread.
We were married several years before we had Nathan and it was quite joyous being young parents. Four years later we had Nick and still we were considered young parents. Now, at 40, we have a child ready to graduate high school and enter college, soon to be taking his first, tentative steps on his own. He will learn that the water, electric, phone and cable and such that he uses so freely on a daily basis, is in fact, not free. He will learn what it is like to conserve, to scrimp and save, to work more and play less until his basic demands are met. It also means that the baby we not so long ago held and played with and taught to walk and talk is going to be thinking about young of his own. Well, maybe.
Our youngest will be taking the same, basic, tentative steps in about 4 years and then the house will be ours alone again. At least during the week. It is partly a joyous occasion, partly sad and yet it doesnt necessarily mean the end of our way of life, just a lot less washing clothes, dishes, floors, etc. Let me re-phrase that. It will be a change because, at least as far as I feel, I'm still going to be relatively young and wont be having kids in the house, sometimes limiting, sometimes frustrating, but yes, we will in fact be "free". Well, free-er. I'm sure there will be unannounced visits, weekends and holidays and the like, but for the most part, we wont have to plan our days around keeping four people fed, entertained and happy. Again, somewhat of a relief, somewhat sad. No, more like- sad for the Mommy/Daddy part of us, but overall it will be liberating. Back to watching tv in my underwear(yeah, I know, ewwwwwww) peeing with the door open, going out if we want to without explaining why we need some "us" time, less cereal in the house, less pop-tart and nukeable foods in the cupboards, less dishes left about the house and not having to search for dirty laundry in every room.
We can be back to a semblance of what we were before children, or B.C. In my opinion, we will still be young enough to enjoy ourselves much as we did B.C. and with the house and vehicles paid for, we will have beer-pong money and plenty of gas money to go out. Late nights without worrying about leaving the kids at home alone, no more buying frivolous things like school shoes and clothes, toothpaste consumption will be down as well as toilet paper and hot-pocket usage. We can get back to important things like making out not making grocery lists, keeping up with tv shows not keeping up with school events and who's dating who. Well, many of you are single, so we may be doing that.
There will be a brief period of mourning for our lost "new-parent" status, our "raising kids " status and our "kids are our life" status. Sooner or later there will be grandkids in the picture and that will be great. We can love them, spoil them and send them back. I hope every day that we taught ours well enough and gave them the tools they need to live happy and be who they want to be while travelling through this life. I hope they become good adults, good friends and good people. I also hope they dont want or have to move back in.
I think there has to be a lot of sadness when children take their first, real steps into adulthood and again when they are finally on their own, but I also think there has to be some relief. As long as they stay safe and happy, I plan on enjoying being relatively young and having some freedom again. Call me greedy if you will, I'm overjoyed that we wont have to be in our late 40's or even 50's and still have to have life revolve around them. I love them, but man, it will be awesome to go out somewhere without someone texting every 5 minutes-"where u at?" or "wen u comin home?".
Think about it: still young enough to get into trouble, old enough to pay for it. Well, something like that. Now I need to buy a project car, lose 40 pounds and get laser surgery for my myopic self. Oh, and get through college. And get through a box of I-hid-my-OWN-poptarts-in-the-cupboard-because-they're-my-favorite without someone finding them. Damnit. I may have to learn to keep my trap shut. Oh well, we'll figure out the do's and dont's of being 40-something parents with-no-kids-at-home. I wonder if eating deep-fried oreos and chicken nuggets will end? I wonder if sex will again be out loud without having to get the kids to stay at someone's house? Will there be gas in the vehicles after the weekend?
OH, They're not taking my xbox or my wii when they go, so I may get more time on xbox live and I suppose we'll have to invest in some new furniture.(gotta have a nice recliner to play in)
Let's just say that I envy those of you that have young children. I miss the thrill of watching them learn, watching them grow and thrive and..... I cant kid myself. I dont envy you, I'm laughing too hard.
We were married several years before we had Nathan and it was quite joyous being young parents. Four years later we had Nick and still we were considered young parents. Now, at 40, we have a child ready to graduate high school and enter college, soon to be taking his first, tentative steps on his own. He will learn that the water, electric, phone and cable and such that he uses so freely on a daily basis, is in fact, not free. He will learn what it is like to conserve, to scrimp and save, to work more and play less until his basic demands are met. It also means that the baby we not so long ago held and played with and taught to walk and talk is going to be thinking about young of his own. Well, maybe.
Our youngest will be taking the same, basic, tentative steps in about 4 years and then the house will be ours alone again. At least during the week. It is partly a joyous occasion, partly sad and yet it doesnt necessarily mean the end of our way of life, just a lot less washing clothes, dishes, floors, etc. Let me re-phrase that. It will be a change because, at least as far as I feel, I'm still going to be relatively young and wont be having kids in the house, sometimes limiting, sometimes frustrating, but yes, we will in fact be "free". Well, free-er. I'm sure there will be unannounced visits, weekends and holidays and the like, but for the most part, we wont have to plan our days around keeping four people fed, entertained and happy. Again, somewhat of a relief, somewhat sad. No, more like- sad for the Mommy/Daddy part of us, but overall it will be liberating. Back to watching tv in my underwear(yeah, I know, ewwwwwww) peeing with the door open, going out if we want to without explaining why we need some "us" time, less cereal in the house, less pop-tart and nukeable foods in the cupboards, less dishes left about the house and not having to search for dirty laundry in every room.
We can be back to a semblance of what we were before children, or B.C. In my opinion, we will still be young enough to enjoy ourselves much as we did B.C. and with the house and vehicles paid for, we will have beer-pong money and plenty of gas money to go out. Late nights without worrying about leaving the kids at home alone, no more buying frivolous things like school shoes and clothes, toothpaste consumption will be down as well as toilet paper and hot-pocket usage. We can get back to important things like making out not making grocery lists, keeping up with tv shows not keeping up with school events and who's dating who. Well, many of you are single, so we may be doing that.
There will be a brief period of mourning for our lost "new-parent" status, our "raising kids " status and our "kids are our life" status. Sooner or later there will be grandkids in the picture and that will be great. We can love them, spoil them and send them back. I hope every day that we taught ours well enough and gave them the tools they need to live happy and be who they want to be while travelling through this life. I hope they become good adults, good friends and good people. I also hope they dont want or have to move back in.
I think there has to be a lot of sadness when children take their first, real steps into adulthood and again when they are finally on their own, but I also think there has to be some relief. As long as they stay safe and happy, I plan on enjoying being relatively young and having some freedom again. Call me greedy if you will, I'm overjoyed that we wont have to be in our late 40's or even 50's and still have to have life revolve around them. I love them, but man, it will be awesome to go out somewhere without someone texting every 5 minutes-"where u at?" or "wen u comin home?".
Think about it: still young enough to get into trouble, old enough to pay for it. Well, something like that. Now I need to buy a project car, lose 40 pounds and get laser surgery for my myopic self. Oh, and get through college. And get through a box of I-hid-my-OWN-poptarts-in-the-cupboard-because-they're-my-favorite without someone finding them. Damnit. I may have to learn to keep my trap shut. Oh well, we'll figure out the do's and dont's of being 40-something parents with-no-kids-at-home. I wonder if eating deep-fried oreos and chicken nuggets will end? I wonder if sex will again be out loud without having to get the kids to stay at someone's house? Will there be gas in the vehicles after the weekend?
OH, They're not taking my xbox or my wii when they go, so I may get more time on xbox live and I suppose we'll have to invest in some new furniture.(gotta have a nice recliner to play in)
Let's just say that I envy those of you that have young children. I miss the thrill of watching them learn, watching them grow and thrive and..... I cant kid myself. I dont envy you, I'm laughing too hard.
Friday, April 16, 2010
102 Petals
There must be something Karmic going on with me this week. I tried to start this rant and the modem fried. I started it again a couple days later and wound up working some long hours, got too tired and gave up. So here I am, tired, battered, hoping the new modem is good and listening to the rain.
I am just like the rest of you, appreciating the bursts of yellow, pink and white that are scattered around. I am loving the green that is pushing its way out of the drab, gray background. Most of you know that I am red-green color blind, but I CAN see the riots of color...How could you NOT? The sun-bright forsythia always catches my eye as I am out and about and of course, the flowers that are popping up everywhere. Pink and white magnolia, cherry and white apple blossoms abound. Nature is almost rebelling after the long winter. The color, whether green or gold, pink or white is such a relief after enduring a good old-fashioned winter shellacking. It's so easy to forget that those kind of winters were more often the norm than the exception.
The first sun-exploded shrub that I came across held me for a long pause. Probably longer than I should have been staring at it, considering I was in my vehicle, sitting still at the end of someone's driveway. On the main road. In traffic. I often ponder at the simplest things, wondering the why's and what's of them. This particular instance found me contemplating deep, philosophical meanings of how people were like this plant. How we so much NEED to be like this plant. Yeah, I know. - "It's a plant, dummy."
We start life basically the same, being a union of two parts, fertilized with the hope of propagating the species, although the majority of humans also factor love into the equation. We grow and eventually emerge from the womb, just as the plant emerges from the ground and as long as luck is on our side and we have a little protection, food and water, we grow. Eventually, when we get big enough, we blossom. We develop complex offshoots and open ourselves to the world, showing our true colors. Some of the people and plants grow strong, robust, beautiful inside and out. Some remain stunted with only a modicum of beauty, although it is STILL beauty and a few grow out only to become blighted. Just like a plant, if we care for and nurture the blighted plants, they can become what their potential is: a healthy, beautiful plant, shining to the world, bringing beauty and function to our little corner of the world. A sad fact of life is that some blighted plants are not saveable, are not meant to be healthy, only to die. They are a stain in a sea of beauty, they infect the plants around them, often. They will do nothing more than be a host to rot and decay.
Fortunately, nature usually weeds out the bad, rewarding the healthy beauty and productive members with long life, growth and most times, healthy offspring.
So, just like the beautiful, healthy forsythia I was staring at, we emerged from the stillness of winter. We have begun to stretch our limbs and bring forth our colors. We are priming ourselves for the fullness of the warm season, drinking deep of the now-flowing earth, reaching toward the warmth of the lengthening day. We relish the sun, abhor the night and strive to fill the earth with our own brand of color.
I know, seems too deep for a Friday. Well, tough. I've been away for a long time and I need to release some verbage.
So, I pulled away, still thinking about the damned forsythia. I realized the individual little petals all seemed perfect when taken as a whole, especially now, as they were new. Somewhere on the fringes, there are always a few that are whithering, a few that are frayed and not quite as bright as the rest. It's okay, though, they make the whole. They complete the overall effect. What does this tell us? I think, in a way, whether you like it or not, we need a little detriment. We need a little underdeveloped or some half-withered souls to balance all the good and the beauty. We need a bit of ailment and death to keep us grounded and remind us of our humanity, er, growing season.
As we go about this long-awaited, hard-earned growing season, maybe we need to be reminded to occasionally help tend our garden of 7 billion petals. Prune, feed, medicate or pluck, we should tend the forsaken, the stunted, the broken. We should anticipate the harvest of life that results from the well-kept whole. Take your moment in the sun, make it worthy of the life that is given and remember the beauty that can be had from a complete, healthy plant.
Oh, and just in case you forgot: warm weather means chicks in bikinis.(not the peep-peep kind, the AAOOOGAA, OOGA kind). Have a great weekend and dont drink too much--its bad for the roots.
I am just like the rest of you, appreciating the bursts of yellow, pink and white that are scattered around. I am loving the green that is pushing its way out of the drab, gray background. Most of you know that I am red-green color blind, but I CAN see the riots of color...How could you NOT? The sun-bright forsythia always catches my eye as I am out and about and of course, the flowers that are popping up everywhere. Pink and white magnolia, cherry and white apple blossoms abound. Nature is almost rebelling after the long winter. The color, whether green or gold, pink or white is such a relief after enduring a good old-fashioned winter shellacking. It's so easy to forget that those kind of winters were more often the norm than the exception.
The first sun-exploded shrub that I came across held me for a long pause. Probably longer than I should have been staring at it, considering I was in my vehicle, sitting still at the end of someone's driveway. On the main road. In traffic. I often ponder at the simplest things, wondering the why's and what's of them. This particular instance found me contemplating deep, philosophical meanings of how people were like this plant. How we so much NEED to be like this plant. Yeah, I know. - "It's a plant, dummy."
We start life basically the same, being a union of two parts, fertilized with the hope of propagating the species, although the majority of humans also factor love into the equation. We grow and eventually emerge from the womb, just as the plant emerges from the ground and as long as luck is on our side and we have a little protection, food and water, we grow. Eventually, when we get big enough, we blossom. We develop complex offshoots and open ourselves to the world, showing our true colors. Some of the people and plants grow strong, robust, beautiful inside and out. Some remain stunted with only a modicum of beauty, although it is STILL beauty and a few grow out only to become blighted. Just like a plant, if we care for and nurture the blighted plants, they can become what their potential is: a healthy, beautiful plant, shining to the world, bringing beauty and function to our little corner of the world. A sad fact of life is that some blighted plants are not saveable, are not meant to be healthy, only to die. They are a stain in a sea of beauty, they infect the plants around them, often. They will do nothing more than be a host to rot and decay.
Fortunately, nature usually weeds out the bad, rewarding the healthy beauty and productive members with long life, growth and most times, healthy offspring.
So, just like the beautiful, healthy forsythia I was staring at, we emerged from the stillness of winter. We have begun to stretch our limbs and bring forth our colors. We are priming ourselves for the fullness of the warm season, drinking deep of the now-flowing earth, reaching toward the warmth of the lengthening day. We relish the sun, abhor the night and strive to fill the earth with our own brand of color.
I know, seems too deep for a Friday. Well, tough. I've been away for a long time and I need to release some verbage.
So, I pulled away, still thinking about the damned forsythia. I realized the individual little petals all seemed perfect when taken as a whole, especially now, as they were new. Somewhere on the fringes, there are always a few that are whithering, a few that are frayed and not quite as bright as the rest. It's okay, though, they make the whole. They complete the overall effect. What does this tell us? I think, in a way, whether you like it or not, we need a little detriment. We need a little underdeveloped or some half-withered souls to balance all the good and the beauty. We need a bit of ailment and death to keep us grounded and remind us of our humanity, er, growing season.
As we go about this long-awaited, hard-earned growing season, maybe we need to be reminded to occasionally help tend our garden of 7 billion petals. Prune, feed, medicate or pluck, we should tend the forsaken, the stunted, the broken. We should anticipate the harvest of life that results from the well-kept whole. Take your moment in the sun, make it worthy of the life that is given and remember the beauty that can be had from a complete, healthy plant.
Oh, and just in case you forgot: warm weather means chicks in bikinis.(not the peep-peep kind, the AAOOOGAA, OOGA kind). Have a great weekend and dont drink too much--its bad for the roots.
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