BLATHER REVIEW

LET IT GO

Well, as Annika says: Wednesday is poetry day!

I wrote this in college in December of '83. (Okay, it's not a poem it's a song lyric. Big whoop!)
My friends always looked at me weird when I played 'em this one, but I've always liked it ('specially fer the ending)...
A roommate of mine asked me "Do you know what it's like to know that the girl you love is at home making love to her boyfriend?" Since I knew the answer to that I wrote this song (the music is forward driving yet kinda wistful):

When the waters run deep I can't get to sleep
I'm spending the weekend alone
It's just the extension of a long life without love
but it's the life I've known

I took a long walk today to where the girls congregate
to tell of their latest exploits
while I'm still haunted 'cause nobody I wanted to talk to
gave the chance or the choice

so, I made it to you, like I usually do,
just like in that classroom where we met
when I'm with you I rest
when I leave I'm depressed
never having what I came to get

I love everything you are and everything you're not
I'll arrive with a cluttered mind but by "hello" it's all forgot
I think that anyone who doesn't love you oughta see a wizard for a heart
but I've learned to hide these feelings like a pro-o-o-o
but I want to let 'em go!

I can hear a dog bark as I sit here in the dark
recounting my hours with you
I was hoping there would be a secret fondness for me
that would be, somehow, showing through

It's never a surprise when I look into yer eyes
and only see yet another mystery
it's a shadow of a doubt but I'll figure it out
and then resign it to history

we'll talk for a while
I'll make jokes just to see you smile
and leave the bigger things to fate
but when it's time to leave I can hardly breathe
I'm always leaving a little too late

my whole body is hungry from my hair down to the ground
sometimes I feel so sick I gotta go lie down
I warned myself about girls like you
what have you done to me now?
this burnin' love is too hot to ho-o-o-o-ld
but I don't wanna let it go!

My soul is adrift 'cause that lover you're with
seems to be more than enough
to show you the sunrise
do you see it in his eyes?
Do you love him when you show him your stuff?

Habit, I guess, decides where you'll rest
in that old creature comfort of his arms
Bodies on fire! Don't you ever get tired?!
You'd better disconnect yer smoke alarms!

Oh no, my breath is foggin' up the glass
as I'm lookin' at yer ass
slammin' up and down in his lap
I watch yer shoulders shudder as he's churning yer butter
within a minute he'll be takin' a nap

now his love pump is coughing as yer legs open wide
he's a spill, you're a sponge
you're both twisted and tied
but, I'm fuckin' freezing, when can I come inside?
my lover is about to expl-o-o-o-o-ode
oh, I'm jus' gonna let it go!!!!

Sense of Doom Life

Don has a link to an excellent 2002 speech written by Matt of Minority of One. I haven't read the whole thing yet because I was stopped cold at this paragraph:

The second effect of a sense of life pertains to action. Being your basic emotion, it is also your basic driving force; it gives you that immediate inclination toward activity. A person with a positive sense of life will feel efficacious, and so will be more inclined toward activity than somebody who feels that the world is against them.

I stopped there because it's a lesson that I had learned 20 years ago and seem to have forgotten until this morning.

Last night was a typical evening for me, like most of my evenings the past few months. I sat at the computer with the 24-hour news channels playing in the background.

Now, if I have any beer in the fridge, my usual plan to start early (about 4:30 OR 5:00) and get in about 8-10 beers by midnight or 1am. But, at about 5pm last night I wanted a beer, but I knew that I only had 6 cans in the fridge. Usually I wouldn't even bother openning that first one -- especially that early -- if I knew I only had six. But, I decided to anyway.

By 11:30 I was forcing down that 6th beer and I felt dead tired. My eyes were stinging as I tried to read what was on my monitor screen, so I decided to hit the hay.
But, I couldn't fall asleep. I was coming back up from the extremely mild buzz that the six-pack had provided and by 2am I was wide awake. At about 3am I sat up, turned on the Nintendo and played a game of RBI Baseball. By the time I (The Mets) had beaten the NL All-Stars I was dead tired again. So I turned off the TV and laid back down, but, I couldn't fall asleep.
I finally dosed off some time after 5am.

I awoke again at 9:03. I could have put my head back down and easily slept 'til noon. But, this being the final day of my 4-day weekend, I knew that I had to get to bed early tonight to get up for work tomorrow.
I forced myself out of bed and staggered to the shower.

After my shower I felt refreshed, though still a bit cloudy. Then I remembered something: For some reason a song I'd written in 1985 popped into my head that had the refrain, "get active! get active!".
I wrote it after my first long bout of catatonia of '83-'84, having realized that making yourself DO something will bring about the very change you need to keep yourself from NOT doing anything.

Something as simple as doing a load of laundry followed by walking the dog and then cleaning a window or two will change the entire experience of the day because it changes, obviously, the experience of every moment of that day.
So that's what I did.

Then, even though I've got food in the house for a few days, I went grocery shopping. Driving back from the store I realized that I'd forgotten the get a pack of cigarettes. I could have parked at the variety store around the corner from my house, gotten the smokes, then driven around the corner. But, instead, I decided to park the car at home and then walk back to the store. Why? Because it was raining!
Yep, walking in the rain is good for feeling something other than nothing, even if it's only raindrops on your hat and coat. (Rainy day walks smell good, too. mheh.)

After I returned home and got dinner started I went online and found an email of a Comment to by post of 2 entries ago by Bloodthirsty Warmonger. He wrote, in part:

I am no stranger to depression, and for me responsibility has been very therapeutic...
...What keeps me going is the knowledge that readers with mental disorders and others seeking facts to counter Idiotarian drivel are counting on me to provide reasoned, professionally-researched information. It's out of the question to let them down.

And that's definately in line with what I've been thinking about and experiencing today. And assuming a responsibility to others is a great excuse to fullfill your responsibility to yourself!

So, when Matt wrote that "A person with a positive sense of life will feel efficacious, and so will be more inclined toward activity than somebody who feels that the world is against them", I just wanted to add that the cause and effect of that can be reversed, too. A person who instigates their own activity will end up with a more positive sense of life than someone who slouches into a sedentary lifestyle.
Just as remembering that the pain of staggering out of bed, when you're tired, will only last a few minutes: the hardest part of getting active is remembering that -- once you get started -- the benefit of doing so will feed on and slap up itself so much that soon you'll wonder how you ever forgot to remember it in the first place.

Now I'll go back and read the rest of Matt's post....

Two Lies... and counting...

I'm becoming more and more convinced that the problem with John Kerry is that he, either; a) doesn't have any core beliefs, or; b) is afraid to tell us what they really are.

I've never been a Kerry-basher. I have, actually, always kind of liked the guy. I saw him smack down Paul Begala once, on MSNBC, for being such a hackneyed ad hominem spewer on the old Begala/North show. But, over the past few months I've really begun to see who John Kerry really is: a well-meaning but fluid personality.

He seems to me like the kind of person whose stance on a given issue is immediate, not timeless. His mood of the moment -- and the thoughts that are shaped by it -- are what identify him at that moment. He may be 60% ideologue and only 10% beaurocrat, but there's that annoying 30% that wants to be free to change his mind. This may make him appear to be an Opportunist. But, I think there may be something else at work. His true struggle may be that he, being a politician, has to be concerned with "consistency"; a requirement that's anathema to a fluid, open-minded personality.

The problem with being so willing to change your mind in the context of furthering an ambitious political career is that you can find yourself saying things that aren't true and fooling yourself into believing that no one will ever bother to either remember or fact-check what you've said.

What the hell am I blathering about?! Oh yeah...

Drudge has a post:

1971 VIDEO: KERRY ADMITS THROWING OWN MEDALS; CONTRADICTS CURRENT CLAIMS

In an interview published Friday in the LOS ANGELES TIMES, Dem presidential hopeful John Kerry claimed he "never ever implied" that he threw his own medals during a Hill protest in 1971 to appear as an antiwar hero.

But a new shock video shows John Kerry -- in his own voice -- saying he did!

ABC's GOOD MORNING AMERICA is set to rock the political world Monday morning with an airing of Kerry's specific 1971 boast, sources tell the DRUDGE REPORT.

The video was made by a local news station in 1971.

It directly contradicts Kerry's own website headline: "RIGHTWING FICTION: John Kerry threw away his medals during a Vietnam war protest."

Now, here's my beef:

The "rightwing", as far as I've noticed, haven't been on Kerry for throwing his own medals into the Potomac River, but for throwing other peoples medals and not having the guts to toss his own. No one believed that Kerry had thrown his own medals away and that was exactly the knock on him. So, Kerry's website misrepresents the hullabaloo right off.

But, now, ABC is about to show a video clip of Kerry himself claiming falsely that he had indeed thrown his own medals away.

Sometimes the truth is momentarily in the way of ambition -- or a good speech. In that case we ask ourselves if we are willing to save our right to a fluidity of opinion, or slouch and settle for a fluidity with the truth.
Presidents ought to opt for the former. Opportunists will try to get away with the latter.
Kerry seems to me, now, to be the kind of guy who got into public life because what he wanted to show us was not a philosophy or a policy but. perhaps, only himself.

UPDATE: The word(s) "ad hominem" show a link to some online dictionary or something. I did not put it there and it doesn't show as html in my entry body. What the fark is up wit dat?!!!

The 10 year... scratch?

So, why haven't I been blogging? Why haven't I had anything funny or interesting to post since about November? I've been trying to figure that out for some time now. A few weeks ago I decided not to worry about it and just to let it go. If something wants to come out then it will, but, 'til then I'll just let it go.

Welp, something wants to come out!

A week or two ago I was sitting at my computer. Kinda like I'm doing right now, except that I wasn't typing anything. I was staring into space. Every few minutes the screen-saver would kick in and I'd move the mouse just a tad to bring back whatever page I was last looking at. I've done that plenty of times when I was lost in thought.

After some length of time -- perhaps 45 minutes or an hour -- I realized that I hadn't been thinking about anything; I was just... away.
I looked at my hand on the mouse and had a strange feeling: it didn't seem like mine. I lifted it off the mouse and stared at my forearm in stunned interest. I didn't feel like me at all and haven't for months. I looked back at the monitor, at the webpage that I'd had some reason to visit and hadn't had the energy to really visit at all. I suddenly had the spooky sensation that my spirit - my very identity - was dead.

I've since realized that there may be a pattern here, because this has happened before. In a big way. Twice.
The first time was a 6-9 month span in 1983-1984, when I was 20, and the second time was a nearly year-long period in 1993-1994, when I was 30.

The first time happened while I was in college. About a month or two into the fall '83 semester I lost all interest in leaving the off-campus apartment that I shared with 5 housemates. I stopped going to class and ate very very little. Some days I'd eat nothing but a can of peas; some days I'd eat nothing at all. My weight dropped (and I'm pretty thin to begin with) to about 115 pounds -- and I'm 5'11", and my sleep schedule was a mess.

At the end of the semester all of my classes scored me I for Incomplete. These, of course, soon changed to straight Fs. I didn't bother to sign up for the spring '84 semester. Instead I moved in with my mother who was living in a 1-room efficiency apartment at the time, and began working full-time.
I wasn't sure what had happened to me -- why I was doing this to myself -- but I knew that something had to change drastically. I enlisted into the US Air Force and shipped out in June '84. That turned out to be exactly what I needed: a complete and utter change of lifestyle. Suddenly I felt great; even in basic training!
I was completely refreshed.

In the spring of 1993 I was laid off from my job at the in-house print shop at the Exectutive offices of a now defunct Department Store chain. Oh, what the hell, it was CALDOR.
Severing the ties completely I received oodles of large checks from my profit sharing account, 401k, and one or two other funds that I can't remember right now. So I had thousands of $$$ in cash and unemployment checks coming every week. I decided to take an extended vacation.
By autumn I was living only on unemployment checks.

Eventually, and just like ten years earlier, my sleeping schedule had fallen into a strange pattern. I'd get up in the afternoon, 4 or 5 o'clock, maybe 6, and be awake all night until after the sun came up. I rarely saw friends and left the house only to get food and cash my unemployment checks. My songwriting output -- which I'd done constantly since I was 12 years old -- came to a screeching halt.

Then the unemployment checks ran out. Time to get a job? Nope. I stopped making the payments on the mortgage of my condo. I lived without electricity or a phone for over a year. I vacuumed my sister's house and cut her lawn for $20 a pop so I could buy food. Again my weight fell to a dangerously low level. Did I care that I was in the process of destroying my life? Nope.

I'm not sure what brought about the change, but, in November of '94 I got a job - and I've held it ever since. Things went pretty well... I began to see my friends again and I was active outside the house. Softball leagues, dart leagues, regular parties at Joe and Tara's on Fridays, etc etc. I lost my condo in the end, but, I had finally come back to life.

So, here I am again. Right on schedule.

I rarely leave the house or see my friends lately. I have trouble feeling hungry and I've lost weight. I've probably lost 25 pounds in the past 5 or 6 months and weigh perhaps around 120-125 (I don't have a scale so I'm just guessing).
I haven't even picked up my guitar in at least 6 months.
One good thing, though, about this current.. er.. "state of affairs"... is that I'm working full-time and at least have a reason to get up in the morning. Hopefully that'll prevent things from getting too far out of hand.

I've been wanting to write this post for a week now. The good news, I hope, is that I'm writing it now because I feel like I've turned a corner. The shop closed early today and I've got a 4-day weekend ahead of me. It's 80 degrees outside, the windows are wide open, and I feel kinda "sunny" (even though we may be getting a thunderstorm in a couple of hours).

One thing I might be doing is changing the focus of my blog and write some historical autobiographical stuff. I started an autobiography ten years ago, but never finished it. Maybe I'll post some of the stories if I can find it. It may shed some light -- at least for me, hopefully -- as to why I go through these periodic states of catatonia.
I've always resisted writing anything too personal because my friends and family know about this place. There are very few people I would ever share such personal stories with, but they also happen to be the same freinds and family that ever actually visit from time to time, so I'll just throw caution to the wind and hope that my mother has forgotten all about Blather Review.

I'll be ba-a-a-a-ack.
:D

Oliver Stone Cold Cocked

Well, if anybody's still dropping by hyar, I'm obviously on an unexpected hiatus. There are reasons for that, but I wont burden you with them rot. (I'm no Helen, sorry...:)

On another topic:
I missed the Oliver Stone's HBO "profile" of Uncle Fidel last night, but there's an interview with the Stoner by one Ann Louise Bardach HERE. I know you probably don't usually click on links at yer favorite blogs (I know I don't -- If you want links then go visit the Puppy Blenderer...!), but, this is worth reading... just to see Ollie squirm a little bit! Trust me on this! And I'd love to read some impressions of it

Quizzilla strikes again!

You are a MASTER of the English language!


While your English is not exactly perfect,
you are still more grammatically correct than
just about every American. Still, there is
always room for improvement...


How grammatically sound are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Don't I talk good? :D

Long Time Man

Just so's I don't, in my creative drought, go toooooo long without a post: here's a song lyric from a few years back. It reads like a 12-bar blues number but it's not. It's an intense minor-chord driven ode to connection.

Makes a long time man's head hang low.
Makes a long time man's head hang low.
When yer out on yer own and write no letters to your home...
mkes a long time man's head hang low.

Well, I hear that my dear ol' mother's gone.
Yes, I hear that my dear ol' mother's gone.
I hear she's gone and lying underneath a stone.
Makes a long time man's head hang low.

And I hear how my father drinks alone.
Yes, I hear how my father drinks alone.
He's broken to the heart and the house is always dark.
Makes a long time man's head hang low.

(harmonica instrumental break)

And I hear my baby sister's gone wrong.
Yes, I hear my baby sister's gone wrong.
She's doin' now what the law don't allow.
Makes a long time man's head hang low.

(second [more urgent] instrumental break)

Makes a long time man's head hang low
Makes a long time man's head hang low.
When your out on the road
and write no letters to your home;
Makes a long time man's head hang low......

Deja Vu All Over Again

Welp, I've managed to destroy my brand new "spillproof" keyboard. There must be something about grapefruit juice that causes a complete breakdown because none of the keys work -- not just the ones that took the hit.

Also, I seem to maybe have a virus or something. My 'puter is making a clicking noise and I can't open certain games. FreeCell and Chips Challenge work, but Jeezball and Tetris don't. Guess I'll have to dust off the Nintendo and see if I can still win at JACKAL.

I can't log on the internet -- not even just to browse -- because I can't type in my password to Juno (I'm typing this from work). So, I'll be broken down on the shoulder of the information superhighway 'til I can a) get a new keyboard and b) figure out if it's a virus or not that keeps my from being able to run certain programs.

Oh, well. It's not like I've been bursting with creativity on this blog lately, anyway. I've finally given up on trying to complete a song parody. It was about John Kerry to the tune of Candle In The Wind, called "Finger In The Wind." These things used to write themselves, but I've been so uncreative lately that I can't get one stinkin' verse to work right. grrrr

Anyway, off I go to get some lunch. See you again real soonly, I hope!!

UPDATE: Seems the oddness in the computer yesterday was caused by the f'd up keyboard. I plugged in a new one and everything's back to normal. Yay! And just so this doesn't happen again, I've got my new keyboard wrapped in Saran Wrap. :D

Aaah, the sweet smell of horse-hide

Hey, baseball fans! Madfish Willie has started a postdated entry about the greatest hitters of all-time (postdated to October 2nd; just in time for the post-season!).
I'm gonna make a case for Ted Williams tomorrow (I'm a bit sleepy now...), so join the debate and lets set a record for Comments-to-a-Post over the next 6 months!!!

UPDATE

I don't know what's going on, but my attempted UPDATE to my last post isn't getting through even though it says it is...

Re: my post below. I did a google search of "study bicycle draw chain" and may have found the base of the program I saw on television some time ago HERE.
The sex differences in the drawing of bicycles isn't addressed until the very end, but, it's a fascinating and surprisingly pithy read. You go read now!!!

A Meandering Thought

I just watched Greta Van Susteren interview Karen Hughes, and Karen said something that's got me thinking (uh-oh).
The interview, for the most part, wasn't as interesting as the one will Bill O'Reilly last night, but, whatever...

Greta was asking her about her experience of September 11th and Karen described the scene where she was at home and watched the 2nd plane hit the South Tower. She said, as best I can remember, I got down on my knees and prayed for the people in the building. I got on the phone and told this to a friend and she asked me 'Why not the people on the plane?' Huh? It never occurred to me. She asked what kind of plane it was. I said "I don't know, a big one, a passenger plane.' It never occurred to me that there was people on the plane."

That's weird, because I had the exact opposite reaction. I didn't see the 2nd plane hit as I walking to my truck and on the way to work at the time. But, I distinctly remember thinking of the passengers on the airplane and only after a few moments realizing that there were people in those offices that'd just been squashed like bugs out of existence. She thought of the people in the building and I thought of the people on the plane. Maybe it's a male/female thing. I dunno.

Which reminds me of something I saw on TV some time ago about a study wherein they asked a roomful of people to draw a bicycle. One conclusion was that men and women had very different attitudes about mechanics.
Most of the women's drawings were missing one important element: the chain! While men seemed to start (after the wheels, of course) their drawing at the pedals, chain and axels, women started at the handlebars.

I love women, but (or, rather, because), in a lot of ways we're very different people! :D