An Answer For Everything…

 

When I was a kid, my mom used to say I always had an answer for everything, which was code for ‘you’re such a smart aleck’ but I enjoyed nonetheless.

Well, this isn’t really a post about that though.

Debi of Ms Crankypants has posed three questions for me to answer -an off-shoot of the whole Alabaster Crippens meme – and I decided to answer them here.

So here goes:

1) What event from your childhood or teen years still has a lasting effect on you to this day?

This is a tough one because it is quite personal. But what the heck… When I was about 12, I was very excited because I had managed to save a good deal of money for Christmas gifts. I really wanted to buy something special for my mother. So, I really budgeted the money for the other gifts on my list so I’d have enough left over to buy her a real gold cross on a chain. She had mentioned many times how she had wanted one and I was thrilled that I was going to be able to give her one. I bought the cross, tiny though it was and on a very delicate chain, it was still 14k gold and I couldn’t wait for Christmas day to arrive.

After weeks of agonizing waiting Christmas day arrived and I gave her the gift. Beside myself with anticipation. When she opened it, she cried and I was elated that she was so touched. But then she said, ‘It’s so small. Is that all you think of me, to give me something so small?’ (or words to that effect). I was crushed of course and disappointed. And I think I tried to explain to her but honestly, it’s a bit of a blur what was said after that point.

At the time, I thought she was being mean. Or maybe that she just didn’t love me very much or less than my brothers and sister. And I vowed I would never buy her anything that would ever enter the area of ‘special’ again because I couldn’t bear that kind of reaction from her again.

But in retrospect, I don’t think she was being mean. I think that she had many insecurities and self doubts. And that for some reason that necklace reinforced those insecurities and doubts. That in her mind, it validated her fear that she didn’t matter. And to me, that is even sadder that my mother wouldn’t know how much I was trying to please her and make her happy.

It has always affected my relationship with her and I’ve always felt tenuous with her and worry whenever I have to buy her a gift or send her a card. I try to pretend that it doesn’t matter but it does. She has a birthday coming up and I spent days trying to find something to send her that I thought she would like. I settled on something but I have little hope she’ll like it. I know she’ll say she does but…

Anyway, that’s the answer to that one.

2) What is the purpose of imagination and where does it come from?

I believe the purpose of imagination is to bring about the future. Without imagination, we would not have any of our modern technology, music, art, literature – artists are the dreamers of our society and they through their art dream and bring into reality products of their imaginations.

3) What book would YOU want to have written, and why?

Without question I would have wanted to write Atlas Shrugged. There are several reasons why. I strongly identified with Dagny Taggert, a true individual who did not care what others thought of her and was guided by her own conscience and values, despite incredible influences to act otherwise. She would not compromise her beliefs or ideals. Also, I believe it is one of the most important books ever written because it makes the case that we are each responsible and accountable for our actions or inactions and that no one is owed a living, wherewithall, possessions, or status that is not earned. To me, a definitive text of the 20th century and modern society. And probably most importantly, because it was an elegant and flawlessly written story that continued until it was truly over. Rather than ending on a specified page count.

Well Debi, there you have it. That was interesting… 😉
WC

How Does It Dream To You Now?

 

When I was a little girl, a very little girl, I wanted to be a ballerina. I could envision the stage, the music and my perfect, graceful body flying through space. But how did a three-year-old know about such things? My family came from farmers, people of the earth, not artists. What weird reconfiguration of fate placed me there? What master plan was in play?

I always felt just a little outside the family. As though I wasn’t really there. I was in a physical sense of course. I was the one with the blonde curls and soulful eyes. I was the wise child who didn’t say much but seemed to know plenty. The one who always wondered if the stork had made a wrong turn because of a snow storm or earthquake. The others fit into each other like puzzle pieces. They made a picture that made sense. I was the piece that no one could find the niche into which I belonged.

The next dream was to be a fireman. Then a teacher. Then a doctor. A bon vivant who strolled the streets of Paris singing out ‘bonjour, bonjour!’ My mind couldn’t settle on just one, I wanted to be them all. Perhaps that is how I came to writing. There are no limits there, you can be whoever and whatever you want to be. Just put the pen to paper and voila you are there, you are it. Simple. Easy. Well, not quite.

My head was in the clouds or off on some distant planet. My heart was wrapped in the colors of my imagination – such vibrant, dimensional colors that I never longed to be back on Earth. Yet, time and again I would be pulled back to perform a mundane task; laundry, cooking, making my bed, homework, going to work. And each time the me inside of me would protest, pout a little and carry on like the martyr I was. ‘It’s not fair,’ I’d mutter to myself. ‘I don’t want to do this.’ At which point the practical me would surface and scold. I had to work hard, I had to carry my weight, fulfill my obligations – life was expecting it of me and I acquiesced. Damn it! Damn it all to hell!

I comforted myself with the dream that one day I would have my dream. That one day I would finish all the chores and work and obligations and then I could really live my dream. Even though my dream was constantly shifting and changing shape and no matter how much I chased it, it could never be caught, I still dreamed of living my dream.

Is it an inherent quality of writers that they are never satisfied? Is it part of the spiritual and mental makeup of the scribe? Or is it that we can so easily assume the viewpoint of anyone and anything? That is a quality that has always annoyed many in my life. I can pick up an identity and be it – like that. I always have wondered if it’s a charm or a curse. I’m not sure I will ever be able to answer that question and maybe I prefer to have it lurking around in my psyche to tease and taunt me like a naughty lover who won’t commit. Meanwhile, half the time I feel like I should be committed.

So here I am, all grown up as they say and I’m still chasing the dream of the living the dream and I have to ask myself, ‘What is it?’ So many answers pop up, like impatient school children flailing arms in the air when they are sure they know the answer to the teacher’s question. But only answer that rings true is, writing. I want to write. I want to spend the rest of my life writing. And if I’m lucky I will die in front of my computer or at a desk with pen and pad in hand, in the middle of thought that was so pure and perfect that I had to get it down before I lost it. I may never amount to anything, be a someone, be sought after by fans or groupies or even get any of my books published BUT I will always write. And that makes me a writer because a writer writes. And so I am living my dream. So, it dreams to me now pretty damn fine.

Tell me your dreams.

WC

This One’s For You, Sanjaya!

Sorry for all the vids but I had to post this one for our favorite idol disaster. WC

Is Blogging Meant to be Therapy?

 

You know I haven’t been at this blogging stuff for very long – a few months – though it seems more like years. Or really it seems like something I’ve always done. Perhaps it is, in a way, as a writer I’ve always had these sort of running dialogues ripping through my mind and occasionally they ended up on paper or computer screen.

They are often seem endless. Non-stop, going at the speed of light thoughts that are questions, ponderings, annoyances, wonder, shock, stupor…you name it – it’s in there. Then suddenly…nothing. Yep, it all stops and I feel a kind of statis. As though my mind simply went on vacation and really I’ve said or thought every thing there is to say or think and well stick a fork in me cuz I’m done.

Still, even when I’m in that empty-headed state I still feel the urge to express thoughts, ideas, points of view. Is it arrogance on my part? That I believe that my thoughts are so important that I must commit them to paper and publish them on the Internet, or (so the dream goes) in books and magazines, newspapers? I mean, really, what is so special about me that I  have the irrepressible(sp) urge to force my views on others? Am I forcing or am I simply looking for a meeting of the minds across the great spatial divide of cyberspace? Am I looking for understanding, agreement or just a safe, warm place to rest my weary head? Could be all of the above or none of the above.

Are bloggers really just writers who have turned to technology to get their message out? Or are we all just a bunch of losers who need to air our problems, concerns, insecurities and little life tragedies just to feel okay about ourselves?

 I wonder, I really do wonder about this stuff. Particularly on days when I don’t feel especially funny or witty. See, in case you missed it that is my thing. Don’t know why but really I live to make people laugh. I would go through just about anything to put somebody in hysterics. Do you think that is a sterling quality or a character flaw? I don’t know. Do you?

During my short adventure as a blogger I have read and visited many blogs. Many more than I ever would have thought I could or would want to. Initially I think it was curiosity. Like, gee there are bagillions of blogs out there and there must be something to this stuff, you know? I mean jeez everybody seems to be doing it – maybe if I read enough of them, I’ll know why.

But despite my research and reading and following and discovering of the many blogs I’ve found and stumbled upon, I still am no closer to answering that curiosity than I was the day I started.

When it comes to blogging it seems there is something for everyone – knitters, political junkies, writers, poets, dancers, artists, musicians, geniuses and idiots alike. But in the greater scheme of things does it really contribute to the oneness of the allness of the human community? Or are we all just trying to vent enough to get through the day without committing murder and mayhem? Trying to get by the things in our lives that disappoint and baffle?

I know in my case sometimes the only thing I had to look forward to was blogging later in the day. Or at least responding to comments from readers. That little burst of joy I felt whenever I saw I had a comment on something I’d written. But why? Do I need that validation from readers? Is it important? Is it silly?

If I pulled the plug tomorrow on my blogs would it matter? I mean truly – would it change a thing other than for me? LOL – I’m just totally lost on this topic. Cuz I really don’t know.

And  honestly, I don’t have a big bang up ending for this entry – so I guess I’ll just leave you guys with the questions for now. Hopefully somebody has some insight or at least a couple of funny come-backs.

Later kids.

WC

Really Stupid Shit Part Deux

I know you’ve all been out there waiting with baited breath for a sequel to this really popular post because when you get right down to it, you just can’t get enough stupid shit. But I like to change things up lest I end up in a rut, so rather than favorite stupid shit – I think we’ll go with annoying stupid shit this time out.

Ready? Good. Here we go

Stupidest remaining Idol Contestant: Tie. Sanjaya the bad singer with the good hair and blindingly white smile – who couldn’t sing if his life truly depended on it. He is only still on the show because weeping pre-teens can’t tell the difference between love and their impending hormones. It’s sweet in a real icky kind of way. But I hate to break it to you folks, he is one of the Top Ten. Any arguments that maybe they should have stopped at season 5?

The other ‘idol’ vying for the title is Chris Sligh (Sly? Are you kidding?) who is the self-appointed “Taylor” contestant for this year. He acts like a dark horse (he thinks), sings the same songs/material as Taylor (tries to Christ-i-cize it?) and just goes off key and nasal, does the fro thang, strolls through the crowd but looks like he wants to slap them out of his way rather than interact. Oh and his fans are calling themselves the Fro-Patrol. Excuse me while I puke. This kid is about as sincere as Paris Hilton while she is hanging out with her girlfriends’ boyfriends unchaperoned. He is the biggest phoniest jackass of a contestant I’ve seen on the show. I’ll bet the voice isn’t really his – he probably pipes it in through his ass from some high tech Ipod mike accessory. Pass the barfbag.

Stupidest Title for a movieMimzy or some shit. I don’t CARE if it is good. You just don’t call a movie Mimzy if you expect anyone over the age of three to go see it. Hey Joe, see any good movies lately? Oh yah Marge and I saw Mimsy – it was really fabulous. Jeez – come on!

Stupidest Talk Show Host: Rosie O’Donnell. What her producers seem to be missing is that talk show hosts are supposed to encourage the guests to talk. Not to slap them, gag them and force feed them their personal, commie, leftie, eco-whacko, insane-o views. Or am I missing something?

Stupidest TV Show: Oh there are soooooooo many but let me pick one from the new batch of shows. Now, mind you I am not going after any reality shows since in my mind they really aren’t tv shows but more like amatuer contests that are televised. No, I’m going after real, shows that are supposed to be real. Okay – Studio Sixty. I mean, hello? What the frick are they thinking here? First of all is Amanda Peet really going to go for Bradley Whitford? The guy has a huge head, it’s even a little scary. Imagine that coming at you ladies for a little good night smooch. Oh yeah. And then Matthew Perry is so schizoid he needs at least 10 offices for all his personalities and the girl he is supposed to be in love with is just too normal to ever really be attracted to a malignant narccissist like him and all his self-righteous spewing crapola. And remember folks, this is supposed to be a comedy, which means funny, right? While really all they are doing is tripping over themselves to spout whatever political ‘message’ is cool and p.c. and see who can talk the fastest. In a phrase it SUCKS!

Stupidest Rock Star: Hands down Bono: Where oh where do I begin? Okay, first of all is he really even that good of a singer? He is ugly as sin – so ugly in fact, he has to wear sunglasses everywhere he goes so the ugly rays do eat the flesh from his face and that of his fans. But what really makes him suck is this pompous, sanctimonious world peace faux world leader act of his. Does he really think anybody (who doesn’t want to get free tickets to rocks concerts populated by other pompous egotistical rock stars) is even remotely interested in his world plan? Sorry bub, but you actually have to get elected by people who know they are electing you, in order to have a say in what my country is going to do about anything. And by the way champ, get the hell out of the U.S. and U.S. affairs, who the hell asked you? How do you get off even hinting at what my tax dollars should be spent on? How dare you take my tax dollars and take credit for what they buy. Kiss my grits, dude. Big time.

Stupidest shit people do to their kids: A picture                             

is worth a thousand words. It’s not bad enought that this child is probably going to be raised by some doped up biker dude and biker chick, they have to turn him into some sort of mini me before he can even learn the words to protest. This mirror image approach to child rearing is just another disease of the yuppified self-absorbed. They don’t want to have children for the joy of having them and raising them to be their own man or woman – but rather they want to raise little clones of themselves so that they will be immortal.

Stupidest phrase: Politically Correct. What in the hell is correct about talking gibberish. I mean under what set of rules, grammar or otherwise does any of this doubletalk even begin to be correct? As for politics – we all know politics are lies and run by the lying liars who lie to get into office. So if something is politically correct isn’t the translation something like perfect lying?

Stupidest Shoes: Those sneakers that are really skates, no they are sneakers no they are skates, no they are sneakers that are skates – they are two, two, two shoes in one. What they are is an accident waiting to happen. It’s bad enough some fool came up with the idea but people are putting them on 6 year old who barely have enough sense not to play in the street much less navigate skating shoes down shopping market aisles . Which of course they don’t and they run smack into you and glare as though you are the cause of all their unhappiness. Between junk food, computers, Ipods and the fact that poor little Johnny shouldn’t have to actually walk to anyplace in the world (not even bed) this ain’t helping in the fight against adolescent obesity.

Stupidest Disease: Again, sooooooooooooooooo many to choose from but let’s go after restless leg syndrome. I mean, come on is this really a disease? From what I’ve read it’s just a magnesium deficiency, which I’d guess you could fix by taking magnesium. Why does every little thing that happens have to be a disease or a genetic defect? Why in the hell isn’t there one damn thing that people are supposed to be responsible for?

Stupidest News Story: The paternity of Ana-Nicole’s daughter. Come on folks, is this really news? I mean are things out there in the big, wide world, so easy going and calm and uneventful that who fathered an aging sex symbol’s daughter gets the headline banner. Not just once but for weeks? Really? So, like world hunger, world peace, tornados, beheadings, none of that takes precedence? Just what I thought all journalists are pussies and idiots who didn’t get their parents’ moneys worth on those fancy prep schools they all attended.

Other things that are just plain stupid pisser offers:

1. People who are too afraid to drive their cars. These are the folks who cause accidents and claim to be in them.

2. Claiming the price of gas is all because of the evil oil companies, with no mention of the taxes, initiatives, regulatory fees and every other little piece of garbage that is added to the price of gasoline which is hidden. No…let’s not tell the truth, let’s blame the guy that provides the goods.

3. Property taxes. Explain something to me, if you own something why would you pay someone else a tax for owning it? What Einstein thought this one up and why the hell does anyone pay it?

4. Giving anyone too young to pay for one on their own, a cell phone. What is the matter with parents today? They give 8 year olds cell phones and Ipods and then wonder how they get hit by cars. Aren’t kids absent-minded enough, you really have to give them things that will completely blot out the world around them? Why not just invest in that Matrix Condo Development now?

5. That cashiers can’t count. You know a bagillion years ago I worked as a waitress and often had to take money at the cash register. So if the bill was $2.26 and they gave you a five so you would count their change back to them like this: 27,28,29,30, 40,50,75, $3, $4, and $5. These days, they take the receipt and pile the bills and the change on top of that and jam it into your hand while peeking at the register to see how much they gave you. Not to mention the fact that they expect you to get the hell out of the way because the guy behind you is about ready to explode because you want to put your change back in your wallet before you grab your bags.

6. Restaurant workers who don’t speak english or have such a difficult time speaking it you cannot understand a word they say – especially at the drive through window. Sorry, but if you’re in America I believe you must speak English well enough to be understood – because if you can’t speak my language do you really think I’m going to trust in the fact that you’ll get my order right or my change? Get real.

7. The cigarette police, the fat police, the second hand smoke police (take your pick) they are the self-appointed assholes who must save society from itself while getting a whole of power for themselves too. Personally, I’m holding out for the bullshit police. I’d love to have some yahoo come along and save all of us from the bullshit that we’ve had shoveled on us from day one. I mean, have you ever asked yourself why it is that despite the trillions of dollars that have been donated and funded into heart disease, cancer, AIDS and so on that there is still no cure for any of it? Don’t you wonder why? Seriously? I’ll tell you why – it’s because they are now cottage industries that hire tons of people who would actually have to find work if cures were found. Most of that money never gets to the level of those who honestly want to find cures or solutions – it gets stuck at the administrative level. Please go save someone who needs saving and leave me alone. I am willing to accept responsibility for my actions.

8. Social Security and Medicare: Is there anyone of my generation out there who has any dillusions that they will collect one cent of the social security and medicare we have funded over our working careers? Anybody? Cuz if so, I have a bridge in Brooklyn you might want to take a look at.

Alrighty then, that’s about all my wee brain can come up with today. Feel free to add to the list.

WC

Five Answers

Alabaster Crippens  had a great little post called Five Questions. I liked it a lot and asked him to create five questions for me. Below are the questions and answers.

1. What’s the saddest fictional event you’ve ever borne witness to?

The belief that we lost the Vietnam War and the propogation of same. And further, that those who were involved were somehow criminals and lower than plant planken. It was a terrible lie and a tragic insult forwarded against people better than you and I who didn’t deserve it. And the liars still continue to spin the lie and somehow make it relevant today. The p.c. kids are the worst of the sad fiction creators around.

2. What’s the most wonderful sound you’ve ever heard?

You can smoke with impunity. Actually, I’ve only ever heard it in my dreams but ….. I’d have to say the most wonderful sound is children laughing.

3. Who do you most want to punch in the face?

It’s a toss-up between Hillary Clinton and Howard Stern. They both gross me out beyond words and are a total waste of space in my opinion. Two things I really cannot tolerate are panderers and liars. Most any other transgression can be forgiven but those two are very difficult for me to tolerate. I don’t understand why anyone would find either of them credible on any topic – they seem absolutely transparent to me.

4. What was the last thing that stopped you in your tracks in amazement?
The attack on the World Trade Tower and the Pentagon and the murders of thousands of my fellow citizens. Which is not to say that there haven’t been amazing things since then but there hasn’t been anything that truly stopped me in my tracks other than 9/11.

5. Have you ever seen something that definitely wasn’t there?

Absolutely and pretty regularly actually. I see ghosts. Often late at night when I’m driving, sometimes on my way to the bathroom and various other places. I once lived in a house that was previously inhabited by an old woman and her ghost would constantly knock over my trash can at night. After a while though, you get used to it. Oh, I also sometimes see what other drivers are planning to do on the road ahead of me – the trick is to not react too soon before they do it. Takes some practice.

Thanks Al for the super cool and groovy questions, I love pop quizzes and this one was good because it was completely unpredictable. Loved it.
WC

Must See TV – Are We Being Scammed?

This is a long vid, folks – and if you’d prefer you can go to youtube and watch it in parts – but I would highly recommend you settle back and watch it all in one sitting.

While the Global Warming debate rages and the ‘greenies’ get more and more whacko, this documentary offers some rational and sane facts and opinions. If only for the sake of balance,  you owe it to yourself to watch it. And don’t go to that ‘I don’t have time place’ because we all know that we waste endless hours on video games, and other dumb crap that has no importance whatsoever.

(HT to  mbatm27 )

 WC

God, I Hate Rules!