Very simply stated - when you are driving on a highway where there are two lanes on each side, the inside lane is for passing. Period. It is not the lane for cruising.
It's the law.
Really.
I know. I've looked it up.
State by State - it's the same thing.
Why am I bringing this up?
Because I just finished a road trip and the majority of people out there have no fricken' clue as to the rules of the road.
What drives me nuts? Willful stupidity. Selfishness. The assumption that everything is created for "you." That "they" owe "you" something.
No. The inside lane is not made for you. No. Just because you are driving speed limit does not authorized you to drive in the inside lane. No. Just because you are young, old, black, white, brown, rich, poor, - no one owes you squat. There is nothing that allows you to be an ass on the road. Nothing.
So - get the hell out of the inside lane. If you are driving faster than those in the "slow lane" then - and only then - can you go into the "fast lane" to do just that...drive fast. Then when you pass the slower vehicle, pull back into the right lane. That way, when you are driving slower than another person, they have the advantage of going around you.
It's simple.
It's polite.
It's the law.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
College Road Trip 101 - Adventure at Reed College
So how did we wind up at a Faculty Christmas party at Reed College in Portland, Oregon?
It wasn't our intent - nor did I budget time for this festive occasion...but obviously the best laid plans are made so they can be changed by forces beyond ones' control.
And so it was as our adventure at Reed College was coming to an end. We had a wonderful time meeting some of the staff - getting the lowdown on College life in Portland and taking a whirlwind tour of the campus. We said our goodbyes to the most excellent staff and entered back into the light rain to become one again with our little red Kia.
Stop. You cannot enter the parking lot. Some "distraught individual has taken refuge on the campus." and oh by the way...he has a loaded weapon.
Nice. Distraught and loaded weapon. What a wonderful combination.
We could see our car. It was right there. I could almost reach out and touch it. But no. That would have crossed into the "no can be here" zone, so back we went.
The building that we ended back up in at Reed is a long Gothic-looking building with wonderful stone work, bearded face carvings and ivy filling the nooks and crannies of the mortared bricks. The trees that caress the sides are a combination of oak and redwoods with moss clinging to the bark and some with a feathering of ferns growing from the crooks of branches. The buildings are celebrating their 100th year of existence with beauty and grace...and a madman somewhere on the east side with a gun.
And there we set. In a small room with comfy leather chairs sipping tea and cider while munching pretzels and oreos waiting for sanity to prevail. One by one, the staff donned coats and left the building in pairs until only a handful remained.
Then. The call came.
Join us! We are having our staff Christmas party and, well, since you are stuck here you may as well come enjoy some food and live music...
What?
A Party.
A Distraught Individual.
A loaded gun.
Don't these people read the papers? Shouldn't we be worried? Shouldn't we take cover? Shouldn't we drop and roll?
Nope.
So we moved to the West side of campus...away from the "activity" and proceeded to meet and greet the Dean and other assorted tenured staff.
We sat at a table with lovely people who really didn't take much of an interest in us until I mentioned that we were REALLY from Alaska. And as always - the very mention of Alaska opened up an active conversation. We discussed Moose, fishing, poor hotel choices, and the school districts between Anchorage, Eagle River, Wasilla and Talkeetna. My usual shyness evaporated and I came alive.
Then - the situation holding our car hostage was lifted. Just like that. No more concern over loaded weapons. No more despondent male over the holiday season. Joy was restored in Whoville and we departed the campus as if we had just been through a typical college interview.
No harm. No foul. No bloodshed. No bullet holes. No worse for wear.
We were free to go...and somehow, Reed has moved into the #1 position of college choices...
It wasn't our intent - nor did I budget time for this festive occasion...but obviously the best laid plans are made so they can be changed by forces beyond ones' control.
And so it was as our adventure at Reed College was coming to an end. We had a wonderful time meeting some of the staff - getting the lowdown on College life in Portland and taking a whirlwind tour of the campus. We said our goodbyes to the most excellent staff and entered back into the light rain to become one again with our little red Kia.
Stop. You cannot enter the parking lot. Some "distraught individual has taken refuge on the campus." and oh by the way...he has a loaded weapon.
Nice. Distraught and loaded weapon. What a wonderful combination.
We could see our car. It was right there. I could almost reach out and touch it. But no. That would have crossed into the "no can be here" zone, so back we went.
The building that we ended back up in at Reed is a long Gothic-looking building with wonderful stone work, bearded face carvings and ivy filling the nooks and crannies of the mortared bricks. The trees that caress the sides are a combination of oak and redwoods with moss clinging to the bark and some with a feathering of ferns growing from the crooks of branches. The buildings are celebrating their 100th year of existence with beauty and grace...and a madman somewhere on the east side with a gun.
And there we set. In a small room with comfy leather chairs sipping tea and cider while munching pretzels and oreos waiting for sanity to prevail. One by one, the staff donned coats and left the building in pairs until only a handful remained.
Then. The call came.
Join us! We are having our staff Christmas party and, well, since you are stuck here you may as well come enjoy some food and live music...
What?
A Party.
A Distraught Individual.
A loaded gun.
Don't these people read the papers? Shouldn't we be worried? Shouldn't we take cover? Shouldn't we drop and roll?
Nope.
So we moved to the West side of campus...away from the "activity" and proceeded to meet and greet the Dean and other assorted tenured staff.
We sat at a table with lovely people who really didn't take much of an interest in us until I mentioned that we were REALLY from Alaska. And as always - the very mention of Alaska opened up an active conversation. We discussed Moose, fishing, poor hotel choices, and the school districts between Anchorage, Eagle River, Wasilla and Talkeetna. My usual shyness evaporated and I came alive.
Then - the situation holding our car hostage was lifted. Just like that. No more concern over loaded weapons. No more despondent male over the holiday season. Joy was restored in Whoville and we departed the campus as if we had just been through a typical college interview.
No harm. No foul. No bloodshed. No bullet holes. No worse for wear.
We were free to go...and somehow, Reed has moved into the #1 position of college choices...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
frustration
Sometimes, you just have to get it out.
Sometimes, you can't tell those who are annoying you to stop, or to see your side of it. Sometimes, if you do then it only makes things worse.
This is one of those times.
I have a vacation planned for December 17 - January 2. Yes...that is a tad bit more than 2 weeks away from work. I need it. I can work on average 60 hours a week. Sometimes I have worked over a month straight...and yes that includes Saturdays and Sundays. Now before you get all excited about overtime, etc - understand that I am salary. I don't get overtime.
I just work.
Rarely, do I take time off. I can't. My job just will not allow for it. I am at the whim of the Government.
I write proposals. So...when the Government (specifically the military) decides they have a job to be performed on a base somewhere around the world (specifically Operations/Maintenance/Support/Housekeeping/etc) then the company I work for will bid for that job. It's how we keep afloat. It's what allows me to actually HAVE a job. So...I write proposals.
When I started, there were about six of us in my department. This was 3 years ago. Now there are 2. And we do it all.
It is the most stressful job I have ever had in my life.
It is also the highest paying job I've ever had.
As a single mom, this is vital. I need to live. I need to support myself and my son. I need, I need, I need.
And so I work. Constantly.
My last vacation was in 2008. Prior to that, it was when I quit my job in Alaska and drove to Texas. I was off work for 3 weeks.
This is my first REAL time off in years. And I need. Desperately. I feel as if my ability to hold it together is slipping...and I know I need a break. If I don't get away, I will snap. It's inevitable.
But...here's the issue. We just had 3 major solicitations hit. All are due within 7 days of each other between January 7 & the 14. One is HUGE.
And now they are threatening to pull my vacation.
Did I mention I'm in Texas? Yeah. They can do that in Texas. There is no State law governing vacations. If Texas had it's way, no one would ever take a vacation. If I push for my time off, they can fire me. And even though it is not to their advantage to do so...they would probably play that card.
So here I am.
Frustrated.
I already will be - at the very least - working on my vacation. Though, finding the time will be interesting as it is a major roadtrip. I will be driving 70% of the time.
And also...it's one of the last (and possibly the last) vacation I take with my son before he leaves for college in 2012. I can try for another...but financially, that isn't always an option.
So - this is the big one.
And it may not happen.
And there is really nothing I can do about it.
Sometimes...Life just sucks no matter how hard you try to make it all alright and find time for yourself and your family.
Sometimes, I wish I wasn't a single mom.
Sometimes, I just wish....
Sometimes, you can't tell those who are annoying you to stop, or to see your side of it. Sometimes, if you do then it only makes things worse.
This is one of those times.
I have a vacation planned for December 17 - January 2. Yes...that is a tad bit more than 2 weeks away from work. I need it. I can work on average 60 hours a week. Sometimes I have worked over a month straight...and yes that includes Saturdays and Sundays. Now before you get all excited about overtime, etc - understand that I am salary. I don't get overtime.
I just work.
Rarely, do I take time off. I can't. My job just will not allow for it. I am at the whim of the Government.
I write proposals. So...when the Government (specifically the military) decides they have a job to be performed on a base somewhere around the world (specifically Operations/Maintenance/Support/Housekeeping/etc) then the company I work for will bid for that job. It's how we keep afloat. It's what allows me to actually HAVE a job. So...I write proposals.
When I started, there were about six of us in my department. This was 3 years ago. Now there are 2. And we do it all.
It is the most stressful job I have ever had in my life.
It is also the highest paying job I've ever had.
As a single mom, this is vital. I need to live. I need to support myself and my son. I need, I need, I need.
And so I work. Constantly.
My last vacation was in 2008. Prior to that, it was when I quit my job in Alaska and drove to Texas. I was off work for 3 weeks.
This is my first REAL time off in years. And I need. Desperately. I feel as if my ability to hold it together is slipping...and I know I need a break. If I don't get away, I will snap. It's inevitable.
But...here's the issue. We just had 3 major solicitations hit. All are due within 7 days of each other between January 7 & the 14. One is HUGE.
And now they are threatening to pull my vacation.
Did I mention I'm in Texas? Yeah. They can do that in Texas. There is no State law governing vacations. If Texas had it's way, no one would ever take a vacation. If I push for my time off, they can fire me. And even though it is not to their advantage to do so...they would probably play that card.
So here I am.
Frustrated.
I already will be - at the very least - working on my vacation. Though, finding the time will be interesting as it is a major roadtrip. I will be driving 70% of the time.
And also...it's one of the last (and possibly the last) vacation I take with my son before he leaves for college in 2012. I can try for another...but financially, that isn't always an option.
So - this is the big one.
And it may not happen.
And there is really nothing I can do about it.
Sometimes...Life just sucks no matter how hard you try to make it all alright and find time for yourself and your family.
Sometimes, I wish I wasn't a single mom.
Sometimes, I just wish....
Thursday, December 2, 2010
you and me against the world...
I don't know when it became the two of us. Though...if I think about it, it's been since the very beginning of time.
I remember finding out I was pregnant with Sean. It was a lifetime ago...and I was so scared.
We'd been trying forever to have a baby. When I first discovered I was pregnant...the first time...I was over the moon with joy. My world was complete. I did what every expectant parent is not supposed to do - I told EVERYONE. We were going to have a baby. We were going to be a family.
Wrong. I lost the baby Christmas day, 1992. I had been pregnant less than 8 weeks. But I already had a baby ornament for the tree. I still have that ornament...and once a year, I look at it and think about the baby I lost - my first baby - and I mourn what never will be.
So...when Sean came along the following May, I was scared. More scared than I thought was humanly possible. I didn't believe the pregnancy tests. I made the doctor do a blood test - then prove to me why it was correct. My first ultrasound? The same thing. I made her explain everything she saw in the ultrasound that proved I was indeed pregnant and the little peanut shape she was showing me was...indeed...my baby.
Sean was peanut before he was Sean.
As I got comfortable in my pregnancy, the fear started to subside. After three months, we finally told everyone... cautiously. I still wasn't sure. But as time moved forward, I got less scared.
Until November. Pre-Eclampsia. And I was down on bedrest from my birthday until Sean was delivered January 29, 1994. Between were almost daily visits by nurses, technicians, and the weekly hospital visit. They had me terrified that if I moved wrong, I would lose my baby. Even the delivery severely threatened both our lives.
But we survived. And I became more protective in life than I ever was during the womb days.
Was this the beginning of Sean and I? Well, probably. But I tried to be three. I really did. And for a while it worked.
I can't blame Mike. He tried as best as any new dad could. But Sean was as close to me as I was to him. He was always in my arms, or around my legs, or nestled up beside me. We were almost as inseparable as we were when I was pregnant. Even trips taken outside to visit family - it was just Sean and I traveling. I don't remember Mike ever joining us on a vacation.
So when it came out that Mike was an alcoholic and we started to fight that horrible demon, Mike retreated into a shell of tequila and gin bottles, while Sean and I gathered together as one.
It was natural.
And it's how we got to where we are today.
Just the two of us. Who have been through everything together: illnesses, broken bones, emergency room visits, learning to read, learning to ride a bike, death of grandparents, the hell of alcoholism, divorce, and growing into a man.
No matter who has been around - no matter what our family situations - no matter what state we've lived in - it's always been the two of us, hand in hand.
Unconditional love at it's finest.
And the truth is...I need to learn to let go.
My peanut is not mine to hold onto forever. He is mine to love...but he belongs to himself. He is the best of unconditional love, but as is true with the finest of loves...they are not meant to last forever.
In a very short year and a half - he will move onto the next chapter in his life...and I will need to move on too.
I love you Peanut.
I remember finding out I was pregnant with Sean. It was a lifetime ago...and I was so scared.
We'd been trying forever to have a baby. When I first discovered I was pregnant...the first time...I was over the moon with joy. My world was complete. I did what every expectant parent is not supposed to do - I told EVERYONE. We were going to have a baby. We were going to be a family.
Wrong. I lost the baby Christmas day, 1992. I had been pregnant less than 8 weeks. But I already had a baby ornament for the tree. I still have that ornament...and once a year, I look at it and think about the baby I lost - my first baby - and I mourn what never will be.
So...when Sean came along the following May, I was scared. More scared than I thought was humanly possible. I didn't believe the pregnancy tests. I made the doctor do a blood test - then prove to me why it was correct. My first ultrasound? The same thing. I made her explain everything she saw in the ultrasound that proved I was indeed pregnant and the little peanut shape she was showing me was...indeed...my baby.
Sean was peanut before he was Sean.
As I got comfortable in my pregnancy, the fear started to subside. After three months, we finally told everyone... cautiously. I still wasn't sure. But as time moved forward, I got less scared.
Until November. Pre-Eclampsia. And I was down on bedrest from my birthday until Sean was delivered January 29, 1994. Between were almost daily visits by nurses, technicians, and the weekly hospital visit. They had me terrified that if I moved wrong, I would lose my baby. Even the delivery severely threatened both our lives.
But we survived. And I became more protective in life than I ever was during the womb days.
Was this the beginning of Sean and I? Well, probably. But I tried to be three. I really did. And for a while it worked.
I can't blame Mike. He tried as best as any new dad could. But Sean was as close to me as I was to him. He was always in my arms, or around my legs, or nestled up beside me. We were almost as inseparable as we were when I was pregnant. Even trips taken outside to visit family - it was just Sean and I traveling. I don't remember Mike ever joining us on a vacation.
So when it came out that Mike was an alcoholic and we started to fight that horrible demon, Mike retreated into a shell of tequila and gin bottles, while Sean and I gathered together as one.
It was natural.
And it's how we got to where we are today.
Just the two of us. Who have been through everything together: illnesses, broken bones, emergency room visits, learning to read, learning to ride a bike, death of grandparents, the hell of alcoholism, divorce, and growing into a man.
No matter who has been around - no matter what our family situations - no matter what state we've lived in - it's always been the two of us, hand in hand.
Unconditional love at it's finest.
And the truth is...I need to learn to let go.
My peanut is not mine to hold onto forever. He is mine to love...but he belongs to himself. He is the best of unconditional love, but as is true with the finest of loves...they are not meant to last forever.
In a very short year and a half - he will move onto the next chapter in his life...and I will need to move on too.
I love you Peanut.
You and me against the world
It feels like you and me against the world
And for all the times we've cried
I've always felt that God was on our side
And when one of us is gone
And one is left alone to carry on
Then remembering will have to do
Memories alone will get us through
Think about the days of me and you
You and me against the world
Monday, November 22, 2010
Back by popular demand...the story of my first Thanksgiving...
Back in the dark ages of my youth...I was about 20 and had my first "real" job. Well, they gave us a gift certificate at Thanksgiving time "for a turkey." It was really a $25 gift certificate to Safeway - but I thought I had to buy a turkey with it...so I did. It was 1980 and I bought a $25 turkey.
I was single at the time.
Didn't dawn on me to give it to a family...no I was going to cook my first turkey for me and my friend! Yeppers!
So there we are in this tiny apartment kitchen opening this turkey...okay, I remembered my mom sticking her hands in the turkey and taking stuff out...so I did.
GROSS! I thought everything would be in a bag or something - I have no idea why. Then I didn't know what to do with the stuff I took out, so we put it in a dish then stuck it in the fridge.
Step two. Stuff the turkey.
Okay. This should be simple enough. We opened the box of Stovetop stuffing and poured it into the turkey cavity. Do you know how much Stovetop stuffing fits in the cavity of a $25 turkey? Lots!!! So we kept filling the cavity until it was full. YEA! Now let's cook the turkey!
It took forever. We thought we were suppose to baste the turkey with it's own juices...but there really wasn't any juice coming out, so we didn't. Somewhere...I probably should have called my mom...but no. I was 20 and living on my own. Why call mom????
Sometime around Christmas I think the turkey finally popped it's little red timer thingy...and so it was done.
Yum! We couldn't wait!
Did you know you're suppose to let the turkey sit before you slice into it? I didn't. So we fired up the electric knife and butchered the hell out of that turkey. Oops! Forgot to remove the stuffing...I guess we'll just serve it from the turkey...YEA!!! Turkey and Stuffing!!!! WOOHOO!!! Let's eat!!!
Have you ever had cottonmouth?
Have you ever shoved like an entire pack of crackers into your mouth and tried to chew them and swallow? Have you ever had all your bodies' moisture sucked right out of you?
Yeah. we did. Remember when I said we poured the Stovetop stuffing into the turkey's cavity? Did you know you're supposed to first mix the stuffing with water?
We didn't.
Wonder where all that turkey juice went that we were supposed to baste the turkey with? Yep. into the cavity. The wads of dried breading was sucking the literal life juice out of the turkey.
So there we were...CRAVING turkey and dressing with a frickin' huge turkey as dry as the sahara desert surrounded by piles of semi-moist turkey-fied breadcrumbs.
I didn't prepare another Thanksgiving meal until I was in my 40's...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
They say it's your birthday...
Woo!
I have a birthday and oddly enough, it's today. Just like it was last year and the year before that...and so it goes back, back, into the dark ages of time. Back to a world that exists only in black and white pictures and broken Super 8 film, sticking and burning in an ancient Kodak projector.
Where I am today is never a place I thought about back in the world I use to live in...that world of Ed Sullivan and Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom, of "Sing Along with Mitch Miller" and Elvis Presley albums, of climbing the old apricot tree in the back yard and digging to China in my mother's garden and playing in the old paneled wagon with Jeff and Bryan pretending we were soldiers trying to avoid capture by the Nazi's during the days of the Vietnam War.
What have I seen in my lifetime? What has happened in the past 50 years...now that I'm 51 and what has shaped the person I've become?
And am I any different that that girl with the long blonde pigtails? Is there a difference between that tomboy of 1968 and the single mom of 2010?
In my lifetime I've lived through the toddler years of Rock & Roll, survived Disco, Punk and Grunge and have questioned the reasoning behind Rap. All in all - it's been a wondrous life of music, though my son swears I was lucky enough to live through the best decades EVER when it comes to Rock. My stories of concerts during the '70's can easily elicit a glazed over expression of envy the likes I never even considered.
I've lived through 4 or 5 wars (assuming one counts Grenada?) with Vietnam still etched into my memory as a horrible vision shown nightly on TV. My prayers always included a line asking God to end the war in Vietnam. Even after it had finally ended, I repeated the line nightly for years because my prayers had simply become a habit. My feelings toward war have not changed in the last 50 years. I have studied all the wars, the history behind them, the strategies, the outcomes, the battles, the bullshit - and I still have the same opinion that I've always had. War is simply two men (always a man) who have issues with each other - usually involving one having something the other wants. They then gather all the people under them and force these people to "go get it" from the other guy. Sometimes, the people have to be told it is in their best interest, that the other guys are evil and will kill us all if we don't stop them. War is stupid. People die for reasons that are usually ridiculous. Families are destroyed because of the will of someone who doesn't care. Even today - (and yes, I understand what has happened in the US in the last 20 years) - we have simply traded the fear/threat of Communism for the fear/treat of Al Qaeda. It's always steeped in truth, but it has grown to ridiculous proportions by being fed through ignorance and fear.
Nope. War has not changed in my lifetime. It has only, like music, evolved.
What else has happened in the last 50 years? Politics? Nope - different people - same Bull Shit.
Society? You would think with all the opportunities to educate ourselves, more people would take advantage of knowledge. But no. That really hasn't changed either. The people who will grow and be valuable to our world will take the initiative and learn. The ones who are lazy and expect the world to cater to them, will sit on their asses and wait for a hand out. It's no different today than it was 50 years ago...though sometimes, in my darker times, I think there are more lazy ass people looking for their piece of assumed heaven. But really? No, I think it's the same just dressed a little differently.
So what has changed?
Nothing.
We are still people. We are still human. We love. We hate. We are afraid of things we don't understand. We find pleasure in the simple things around us. We are hungry. We are rich. We want only what is basic to survive. We want it all. We are no different than we were at the start of 1960. Our society on a whole has changed and evolved with the ebbs of the tide.
I want to be better than that. I want to have grown. But, even as an individual - I know how difficult change can be. I want things to be different, but I didn't do whatever was necessary in my past to make things different. I still wish I was sitting in Bob's car cruising State College, or hanging out at Bill's cool apartment on Lemon Street, or trading shots from a bottle of Jack Daniel's in the Fort at Pioneer Park.
I want to do more dancing in LA with Mark. I want to go see "Animal House" one more time at the Orange Drive-in. I want to see another concert at the Golden Bear in Huntington Beach.
I want to be happy and loved in 2011, but I still want to relive 1979 over and over again.
How can I expect the world to change around me for the better - how can I expect people to grow and evolve in this society - when I'm not willing to let go of my past?
What do I want as I move into my 52nd year on this earth?
What I've always wanted. I want Peace. I want Love. I want Happiness.
But most importantly - I want to make this world a better place for my son so that when he is 50, he can look back and see the change I never saw.
I have a birthday and oddly enough, it's today. Just like it was last year and the year before that...and so it goes back, back, into the dark ages of time. Back to a world that exists only in black and white pictures and broken Super 8 film, sticking and burning in an ancient Kodak projector.
Where I am today is never a place I thought about back in the world I use to live in...that world of Ed Sullivan and Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom, of "Sing Along with Mitch Miller" and Elvis Presley albums, of climbing the old apricot tree in the back yard and digging to China in my mother's garden and playing in the old paneled wagon with Jeff and Bryan pretending we were soldiers trying to avoid capture by the Nazi's during the days of the Vietnam War.
What have I seen in my lifetime? What has happened in the past 50 years...now that I'm 51 and what has shaped the person I've become?
And am I any different that that girl with the long blonde pigtails? Is there a difference between that tomboy of 1968 and the single mom of 2010?
In my lifetime I've lived through the toddler years of Rock & Roll, survived Disco, Punk and Grunge and have questioned the reasoning behind Rap. All in all - it's been a wondrous life of music, though my son swears I was lucky enough to live through the best decades EVER when it comes to Rock. My stories of concerts during the '70's can easily elicit a glazed over expression of envy the likes I never even considered.
I've lived through 4 or 5 wars (assuming one counts Grenada?) with Vietnam still etched into my memory as a horrible vision shown nightly on TV. My prayers always included a line asking God to end the war in Vietnam. Even after it had finally ended, I repeated the line nightly for years because my prayers had simply become a habit. My feelings toward war have not changed in the last 50 years. I have studied all the wars, the history behind them, the strategies, the outcomes, the battles, the bullshit - and I still have the same opinion that I've always had. War is simply two men (always a man) who have issues with each other - usually involving one having something the other wants. They then gather all the people under them and force these people to "go get it" from the other guy. Sometimes, the people have to be told it is in their best interest, that the other guys are evil and will kill us all if we don't stop them. War is stupid. People die for reasons that are usually ridiculous. Families are destroyed because of the will of someone who doesn't care. Even today - (and yes, I understand what has happened in the US in the last 20 years) - we have simply traded the fear/threat of Communism for the fear/treat of Al Qaeda. It's always steeped in truth, but it has grown to ridiculous proportions by being fed through ignorance and fear.
Nope. War has not changed in my lifetime. It has only, like music, evolved.
What else has happened in the last 50 years? Politics? Nope - different people - same Bull Shit.
Society? You would think with all the opportunities to educate ourselves, more people would take advantage of knowledge. But no. That really hasn't changed either. The people who will grow and be valuable to our world will take the initiative and learn. The ones who are lazy and expect the world to cater to them, will sit on their asses and wait for a hand out. It's no different today than it was 50 years ago...though sometimes, in my darker times, I think there are more lazy ass people looking for their piece of assumed heaven. But really? No, I think it's the same just dressed a little differently.
So what has changed?
Nothing.
We are still people. We are still human. We love. We hate. We are afraid of things we don't understand. We find pleasure in the simple things around us. We are hungry. We are rich. We want only what is basic to survive. We want it all. We are no different than we were at the start of 1960. Our society on a whole has changed and evolved with the ebbs of the tide.
I want to be better than that. I want to have grown. But, even as an individual - I know how difficult change can be. I want things to be different, but I didn't do whatever was necessary in my past to make things different. I still wish I was sitting in Bob's car cruising State College, or hanging out at Bill's cool apartment on Lemon Street, or trading shots from a bottle of Jack Daniel's in the Fort at Pioneer Park.
I want to do more dancing in LA with Mark. I want to go see "Animal House" one more time at the Orange Drive-in. I want to see another concert at the Golden Bear in Huntington Beach.
I want to be happy and loved in 2011, but I still want to relive 1979 over and over again.
How can I expect the world to change around me for the better - how can I expect people to grow and evolve in this society - when I'm not willing to let go of my past?
What do I want as I move into my 52nd year on this earth?
What I've always wanted. I want Peace. I want Love. I want Happiness.
But most importantly - I want to make this world a better place for my son so that when he is 50, he can look back and see the change I never saw.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
What do you want from life?
So far, I've given up on the autographed picture of Randy Mantooth, the herd of Winnebago's and the baby's arm holding an apple - but what I haven't given up on is that idea of having it all in whatever reasonable fashion I can manage having it.
You never really do know what is out there until you step into the pile of shit while rounding that blind corner. Sometimes, while you're leaning against the wall scrapping off your shoe, the most surprising things tap you on the shoulder.
Mine was simply a phone call asking me what I wanted for dinner. When I said surprise me, he said okay and intends to do just that. I don't get the company, but I do get the food. More importantly - I was thought about. And for a moment - someone unexpectedly cared about me and felt compelled to surprise me with a little gesture.
These are truly the gestures that get me through my days - they are also the gestures that remind me that I still have desires and dreams. I'm not ready to give up and become the cat lady.
The Tubes reminded me that no one really knows what they want - and when they have it, they're not really sure they want to keep it. We are always searching - always wondering - and always, always wanting more.
You never really do know what is out there until you step into the pile of shit while rounding that blind corner. Sometimes, while you're leaning against the wall scrapping off your shoe, the most surprising things tap you on the shoulder.
Mine was simply a phone call asking me what I wanted for dinner. When I said surprise me, he said okay and intends to do just that. I don't get the company, but I do get the food. More importantly - I was thought about. And for a moment - someone unexpectedly cared about me and felt compelled to surprise me with a little gesture.
These are truly the gestures that get me through my days - they are also the gestures that remind me that I still have desires and dreams. I'm not ready to give up and become the cat lady.
The Tubes reminded me that no one really knows what they want - and when they have it, they're not really sure they want to keep it. We are always searching - always wondering - and always, always wanting more.
"What do you want from life
Someone to love
and somebody that you can trust
What do you want from life
To try and be happy
while you do the nasty things you must"
Is this truly it?
Is this what we're all striving to reach - to find - to cling to in our dreams, in our beds, on our daily commutes to our sheep like existence?
I think it's pretty damned close.
My 2 minute surprise phone call showed me it's not that far from the truth.
I want to be loved, I want to love back, I want to be happy and I want someone to stand by me as I creep through the muck, claw my way through the jungles, and deadman float through the garbage-strewn moat surrounding my King's castle.
And while I never expect him to tell me he loves me - I know that he does...in the way most of us love another after climbing out of the hole of love affairs gone bad. We're scared, we're weary, we're covered in crud...but we still want someone to love and trust. We want to try and be happy.
And we desperately want someone - just as battle savvy - to stand beside us in love and in life.
In a weird way I have that as a woman too afraid to cross a line to reach a man who is too afraid to need another person. So together we'll be there for one another - never sharing the identical secret we continue to keep from the other.
In the meantime - I'll enjoy dinner and know that someone who truly does love me is watching out for me from afar...the only way he knows how.
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