Let’s start with the fact that Bella is sitting on her perch, looking at with this board little look, as if to say “so what are you going to write tonight genius.” Maybe I am just deflecting.
Anyway, there were three different things that struck me today at one point or another and so you get a little bit of each:
Political Polarity
On Saturday mornings when I am in town I walk three and a half blocks from my downtown apartment to the farmer’s market. This is one of the things I have enjoyed about where I live since moving here. Unfortunately, in order to get to the farmer’s market I have to endure one of my least favorite parts of living here, Jesus loving, granola eating, sandal wearing (or barefoot), 1960’s hippies with their “honk if you love Jesus” signs, or “honk for peace,” or “healthcare not warfare."
Don’t get me wrong, I think “peace is a pretty darn good thing,” you get bonus points if you know the movie, scene, and character that utters those very words. I also happen to like the idea of being able to have quality healthcare for a reasonable price, and while I don’t know that I love Jesus, I would consider her a good friend. I also happen to have a number of friends, old and new, that are in some state or another of hippydom.
My objection is with the in your face, every weekend, same corner, take up the whole sidewalk, if you don’t agree with us there is something wrong with you approach. I believe there are much better ways to get the same point across, with much more significant results, but that wouldn’t be 60’s cool.
The other side of this is some crazy people, some of whom are also friends of mine, who still think that W was the best president ever, and that not only should we have gone to war, but that war should have consisted of making a crater out of any country made primarily out of sand.
Again, I too felt that way when 911 happened, especially since it took four days or so to find out which of my friends were in the city and ok, and which we had lost, as it did for many people. If someone had told me at that time exactly who it was that was responsible, where they were and given me the guys to a bomber I would definitely have dropped a bomb on his or her butt. However, without reliable information to that effect, that was not a viable option.
I have written both sides of this in as inflammatory and offensive a manner as possible because I was hoping to illustrate a point. If we are going to be a great nation again we need to start by not accusing each other, and by not being, f------ bleeding heart liberals, and Goddamn right wing conservatives. I cannot believe how far we have gone wrong in the past decade and it starts with all of us, not the president. It is ok to believe in the Democratic party, or platform, and it is ok to believe in the Republican party or platform, but it is not ok to take it to such an extreme as to damage our country, and it is not ok to condemn other peoples thoughts or beliefs or concerns simply because they are different than yours.
I believe that if we all take a step back; remember what made this country great in the first place. Starting by being kind and tolerant of other people, different people and different views,
then maybe we will have a chance.
Sorry I got on a roll. I will add to the smorgasbord tomorrow.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Moments
I had a conversation with an old friend today about an art class she is about to take, and one of the things we talked about was how for me it is impossible to say that every day at a specific time I am going to write, or I am going to paint. Those moments can’t be forced, they just happen.
Sort of like this post. One of my goals with this is to post every day, partly because I am a goal oriented person by nature, and partly because I want to be able to put my thoughts down on a daily basis and share them.
When I sat down just now I turned the computer on to check e-mail and the hockey score and then realized, “hey I haven’t posted today.” That was not a good feeling, nor was the feeling of having absolutely nothing come to me. I was sitting here looking at the blog, staring at it really, thinking that I was tired, and a bit used up by the day and the week and really did not want to post tonight. Not posting did not feel good, and so I started to go through in my head the possibilities, not post and miss a day already, in week one, post something lame just to post, post something just to create the heading and then edit it in the morning when I am fresh - can you tell I was panicking - going through all of these things in my head, which took a lot less time to think than they did just now to write.
At the end of that panicked, circuitous train of thought, more like a toy electric train, I remember the conversation from earlier today and realized that this is something I wanted to write about and I suddenly felt like writing. I know, the longest intro ever.
When I paint it is because I have to, or at least I have something in my head that needs to be on canvas and thus I want to. When I write it is exactly the same, and sometimes when I am done, maybe most of the or all of the time, when I am done it makes no sense, but that is because I write non-stop until the thought is completely out of me, or until I run out of gas, whichever comes first. I have hundreds of files that contain pieces of a thought, sometimes a couple of sentences or paragraphs, sometimes a few pages, but when I no longer feel it I stop and I never go back to that thought and finish.
With painting it is a bit different, only a couple of times have I just stopped and realized I did not feel like painting. Most of the time when I paint I will finish a painting, or the portion I am working on, in just a few hours, look at it and be done. Occasionally when I paint I will get to a point where I realize it is not going where I had envisioned and I will wither leave it, or more likely finish it with far less fervor.
The other thing for me about writing versus painting is that painting is always very calm and quiet and peaceful and probably the only time in my life when I am not stressed, not thinking about much, if anything, and just completely in that particular moment, that particular brush stroke or pull of the pallet knife. When I write there is obviously a great deal on my mind, going through my mind and the challenge becomes to get as much of it down on “paper” as possible, as quickly as possible and as close to the form it was in my head when I began. I am hopeful that as the process matures for me I will be able to go back to a piece that I have written and get more of the entirety of the original thought capture than I tend to now. Only time will tell.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Sort of like this post. One of my goals with this is to post every day, partly because I am a goal oriented person by nature, and partly because I want to be able to put my thoughts down on a daily basis and share them.
When I sat down just now I turned the computer on to check e-mail and the hockey score and then realized, “hey I haven’t posted today.” That was not a good feeling, nor was the feeling of having absolutely nothing come to me. I was sitting here looking at the blog, staring at it really, thinking that I was tired, and a bit used up by the day and the week and really did not want to post tonight. Not posting did not feel good, and so I started to go through in my head the possibilities, not post and miss a day already, in week one, post something lame just to post, post something just to create the heading and then edit it in the morning when I am fresh - can you tell I was panicking - going through all of these things in my head, which took a lot less time to think than they did just now to write.
At the end of that panicked, circuitous train of thought, more like a toy electric train, I remember the conversation from earlier today and realized that this is something I wanted to write about and I suddenly felt like writing. I know, the longest intro ever.
When I paint it is because I have to, or at least I have something in my head that needs to be on canvas and thus I want to. When I write it is exactly the same, and sometimes when I am done, maybe most of the or all of the time, when I am done it makes no sense, but that is because I write non-stop until the thought is completely out of me, or until I run out of gas, whichever comes first. I have hundreds of files that contain pieces of a thought, sometimes a couple of sentences or paragraphs, sometimes a few pages, but when I no longer feel it I stop and I never go back to that thought and finish.
With painting it is a bit different, only a couple of times have I just stopped and realized I did not feel like painting. Most of the time when I paint I will finish a painting, or the portion I am working on, in just a few hours, look at it and be done. Occasionally when I paint I will get to a point where I realize it is not going where I had envisioned and I will wither leave it, or more likely finish it with far less fervor.
The other thing for me about writing versus painting is that painting is always very calm and quiet and peaceful and probably the only time in my life when I am not stressed, not thinking about much, if anything, and just completely in that particular moment, that particular brush stroke or pull of the pallet knife. When I write there is obviously a great deal on my mind, going through my mind and the challenge becomes to get as much of it down on “paper” as possible, as quickly as possible and as close to the form it was in my head when I began. I am hopeful that as the process matures for me I will be able to go back to a piece that I have written and get more of the entirety of the original thought capture than I tend to now. Only time will tell.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Bella
I have never liked cats, never. I grew up with dogs and was always very close to them, they were friends you could hang out with, go for walks with, play catch with, and they never complained, always came when you called them and never talked back. If only the women I have dated over the years were like that, but I am sure we will get back to this at some point.
Cats to me have always been a lot like women, when they want attention they want attention and when they want to be left alone they want to be left alone. They have a tendency to get you to do whatever they want because it is better than listening to them cry and wine, I am speaking of the cats, sort of, but you see my point. Cats, women, women, cats, they are somewhat similar in many ways.
The other things about cats that I have never liked are that they are messy, smelly, and they get fur on everything. My mother has these two nice sitting room type of chairs, the crushed blue velvet, high back sort of chairs, and no one can sit in them because they are covered in fir. I forgot to mention before by the way that the dogs in the family meant a great deal to my siblings and me, but unfortunately, my mother decided to run over the first one, and my father forget to put our second dog in the house before we left to go away for the holiday, and the third could not keep from eating everything in the house, screen doors, all of the garbage, and once all the steaks that were left on the counter for the BBQ. I digress.
So anyway, I have never liked cats, until Bella that is. Bella is not actually a cat, I mean the Humane Society said she was and the vet treats her that way, but she is not a cat. Cats are supposed to leap and spring and jump up to things, Bella does pull ups. Cats are supposed to not like water, when Bella hears the shower running she can’t get to it fast enough. Bella likes to play catch and although she has a tendency to overrun whatever it is I have thrown, she still enjoys the concept and she is getting better at it every day. Bella actually talks, and she will lie near me when I am working regardless of where I am. I actually think that Bella is a cat, but she was a dog in her most recent past life.
Here is what I know most about Bella. This is the best relationship I have ever had with a woman. My father has been telling me for years that I tend to pick the wrong women. Sorry to those I have dated along the way, and/or been engaged to briefly, congrats on the beautiful and very expensive Mexican wedding, take 2, but I digress, again, and actually to continue in this vein for a second, can anyone explain to me why your friends always seem to think it is important, or helpful, for you to know that an ex just got married?
Bella comes running to the door whenever I come home. She is always happy to see me, she comes over to say hello and then gives me space to settle in. She does not hit me with a million questions about the day or with a long list of why her day was bad, or what the kids did that I need to address, or what broke in the house. Bella is very, very low maintenance. If she has food, water, and a relatively clean litter box she is happy. Most of all she is always there and she loves me unconditionally.
The most amazing thing she has ever done, and she has done a great deal, is that the other night when I leaped off “the wagon” for one night, and one night only, Bella was there for me. Once things settled down a little bit, and I propped the pillows up so I could sleep upright, for fear of lying down, she sat on her little pedestal at the end of the bed and watched me all night long. She did not lie down; she sat there just watching me to make sure I was ok. Every time I started to drift off and then caught myself because of my body’s reaction there she was. At 6:00 AM when I finally felt it was safe to try and sleep I curled up in the bed and she curled up on her little pedestal and went to sleep.
Bella is not a cat she is a friend.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Cats to me have always been a lot like women, when they want attention they want attention and when they want to be left alone they want to be left alone. They have a tendency to get you to do whatever they want because it is better than listening to them cry and wine, I am speaking of the cats, sort of, but you see my point. Cats, women, women, cats, they are somewhat similar in many ways.
The other things about cats that I have never liked are that they are messy, smelly, and they get fur on everything. My mother has these two nice sitting room type of chairs, the crushed blue velvet, high back sort of chairs, and no one can sit in them because they are covered in fir. I forgot to mention before by the way that the dogs in the family meant a great deal to my siblings and me, but unfortunately, my mother decided to run over the first one, and my father forget to put our second dog in the house before we left to go away for the holiday, and the third could not keep from eating everything in the house, screen doors, all of the garbage, and once all the steaks that were left on the counter for the BBQ. I digress.
So anyway, I have never liked cats, until Bella that is. Bella is not actually a cat, I mean the Humane Society said she was and the vet treats her that way, but she is not a cat. Cats are supposed to leap and spring and jump up to things, Bella does pull ups. Cats are supposed to not like water, when Bella hears the shower running she can’t get to it fast enough. Bella likes to play catch and although she has a tendency to overrun whatever it is I have thrown, she still enjoys the concept and she is getting better at it every day. Bella actually talks, and she will lie near me when I am working regardless of where I am. I actually think that Bella is a cat, but she was a dog in her most recent past life.
Here is what I know most about Bella. This is the best relationship I have ever had with a woman. My father has been telling me for years that I tend to pick the wrong women. Sorry to those I have dated along the way, and/or been engaged to briefly, congrats on the beautiful and very expensive Mexican wedding, take 2, but I digress, again, and actually to continue in this vein for a second, can anyone explain to me why your friends always seem to think it is important, or helpful, for you to know that an ex just got married?
Bella comes running to the door whenever I come home. She is always happy to see me, she comes over to say hello and then gives me space to settle in. She does not hit me with a million questions about the day or with a long list of why her day was bad, or what the kids did that I need to address, or what broke in the house. Bella is very, very low maintenance. If she has food, water, and a relatively clean litter box she is happy. Most of all she is always there and she loves me unconditionally.
The most amazing thing she has ever done, and she has done a great deal, is that the other night when I leaped off “the wagon” for one night, and one night only, Bella was there for me. Once things settled down a little bit, and I propped the pillows up so I could sleep upright, for fear of lying down, she sat on her little pedestal at the end of the bed and watched me all night long. She did not lie down; she sat there just watching me to make sure I was ok. Every time I started to drift off and then caught myself because of my body’s reaction there she was. At 6:00 AM when I finally felt it was safe to try and sleep I curled up in the bed and she curled up on her little pedestal and went to sleep.
Bella is not a cat she is a friend.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The Death of Common Courtesy
So I am standing in front of a barber shop today, having a conversation with my barber, when another gentlemen, younger man, joins us and says “hello,” but then just is standing there enjoying the day. He suddenly has an urgent need to spit, people do from time to time, so he decides why move I will just spit. I could almost see the cartoon bubble above his head with all the question marks in it. Next thing I know he has spit directly in front of the entrance to the shop!! I of course said “dude, did you really just do that.” His reply was a very simple, and convincing “what??” Absolutely no clue.
I was hesitant as to whether or not to use this particular story to introduce this topic, but it was so amazingly inappropriate to me for someone to do this, and I hope to most people, but I am really beginning to wonder.
Let’s start with simple things like the next time you go to dinner, or are walking around town, just take note of how many couples go to get into their car and open their own doors, or the next time you are out driving around town see how many people make eye contact, wave, or say thank you for stopping the car and not running them over while they cross the street. Yes I do know that the law says you have to stop if they are in a crosswalk, but I do not remember ever reading anything about it being illegal for eye contact to be made.
Do random strangers hold a door open for you, women, men? Guys when was the last time another guy held a door open for you while entering a building? When was the last time any of you remember seeing someone struggling to get the groceries to the car and then seeing some random stranger rush over to get the car door for them? Even simpler, you are rushing to get groceries and then get home to the starving kids, husband, cat, whatever, and there is someone else rushing, do you take the second and a half it would take to get them a cart first or do you run them over?
Another little event occurred today that was also amazing to me. An 89 year old woman, did not know her age at the time, but did notice that the one bag she was carrying was way too heavy for her, was crossing a four lane road, two in each direction, with a turning lane between them…are you frightened yet? It gets worse. So she was crossing five lanes of traffic, at about 5:30 in the afternoon, and yes a couple of people stopped their trucks for her, but a number of people went around her…and beeped…and no one, of the half dozen people watching this event thought “gee maybe I should say something, or help her in any way.” Again, I saw a bunch more little cartoon balloons and dozens of questions marks, and a couple of “huhs” floating through the air. I was on my mobile phone with my father and said to him “hey I have to call you back there is a really old lady trying to get herself run over.” I went to the middle of the road as quickly as possible and helped her to the other side and then carried her bag for her to the bus stop.
The next time you are in an airport, or a mall, count how many times someone walks right in front of you, or through you, without even breaking stride, or missing a beat of their conversation on their mobile. Of course that call is to solve world hunger so I guess it is ok.
In case you can’t tell, I am frustrated. When did doing something nice for someone become a big deal? When did common courtesy begin to warrant a big thank you, or fanfare? If you are traveling alone on an airplane and a couple gets on and does the aisle split and goes their separate ways, how hard is it to switch with them and let them sit together? Not hard, but this has become something that gets noticed as a major act of kindness, when it used to be called manners, respect, common courtesy.
I am not asking for people to pay for the car behind them when they go through a toll, or pay for someone’s coffee when they have forgotten their wallet, I would like to, but I am not, I am asking that we all go back to please and thank you, you’re welcome and have a nice day, excuse me and I’m sorry I did not see you there. I think if we all start there people will begin to smile more, the overall stress level on the planet will go down, and eventually there will be less violence in the world…eventually.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
I was hesitant as to whether or not to use this particular story to introduce this topic, but it was so amazingly inappropriate to me for someone to do this, and I hope to most people, but I am really beginning to wonder.
Let’s start with simple things like the next time you go to dinner, or are walking around town, just take note of how many couples go to get into their car and open their own doors, or the next time you are out driving around town see how many people make eye contact, wave, or say thank you for stopping the car and not running them over while they cross the street. Yes I do know that the law says you have to stop if they are in a crosswalk, but I do not remember ever reading anything about it being illegal for eye contact to be made.
Do random strangers hold a door open for you, women, men? Guys when was the last time another guy held a door open for you while entering a building? When was the last time any of you remember seeing someone struggling to get the groceries to the car and then seeing some random stranger rush over to get the car door for them? Even simpler, you are rushing to get groceries and then get home to the starving kids, husband, cat, whatever, and there is someone else rushing, do you take the second and a half it would take to get them a cart first or do you run them over?
Another little event occurred today that was also amazing to me. An 89 year old woman, did not know her age at the time, but did notice that the one bag she was carrying was way too heavy for her, was crossing a four lane road, two in each direction, with a turning lane between them…are you frightened yet? It gets worse. So she was crossing five lanes of traffic, at about 5:30 in the afternoon, and yes a couple of people stopped their trucks for her, but a number of people went around her…and beeped…and no one, of the half dozen people watching this event thought “gee maybe I should say something, or help her in any way.” Again, I saw a bunch more little cartoon balloons and dozens of questions marks, and a couple of “huhs” floating through the air. I was on my mobile phone with my father and said to him “hey I have to call you back there is a really old lady trying to get herself run over.” I went to the middle of the road as quickly as possible and helped her to the other side and then carried her bag for her to the bus stop.
The next time you are in an airport, or a mall, count how many times someone walks right in front of you, or through you, without even breaking stride, or missing a beat of their conversation on their mobile. Of course that call is to solve world hunger so I guess it is ok.
In case you can’t tell, I am frustrated. When did doing something nice for someone become a big deal? When did common courtesy begin to warrant a big thank you, or fanfare? If you are traveling alone on an airplane and a couple gets on and does the aisle split and goes their separate ways, how hard is it to switch with them and let them sit together? Not hard, but this has become something that gets noticed as a major act of kindness, when it used to be called manners, respect, common courtesy.
I am not asking for people to pay for the car behind them when they go through a toll, or pay for someone’s coffee when they have forgotten their wallet, I would like to, but I am not, I am asking that we all go back to please and thank you, you’re welcome and have a nice day, excuse me and I’m sorry I did not see you there. I think if we all start there people will begin to smile more, the overall stress level on the planet will go down, and eventually there will be less violence in the world…eventually.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Too Late
So I am going to throw this question out into cyberspace, without expecting an answer, but rather some thought about a topic that is ever present in my life and in my mind. Is it ever too late in life to change what you are doing, to do something different, radically different, to find your passion, to explore new opportunities?
I hope not, and I think not, but am not yet convinced.
My youth was spent doing what I was supposed to do, what was expected, from sports, to working, to family obligations, and never considered anything else, never even thought to think it, if that can be said. It is not that I was unhappy with being an athlete, and I am not sure that I would have been any happier studying something else when I was in school, actually I am certain it would not have mattered, I studied what was logical for me to study based on the path that was set, and I didn’t even study that much, to be honest, until a broken bone in my foot helped me decide it was time to graduate.
I have always loved music, but that slowly went away, at least from the active participation perspective. I have always loved the theatre, especially musical theatre, film, writing, painting, cooking, and yet most of my life I have done little or nothing with any of this. I have continued to try and find the responsible path, and along the way I have accomplished some things that most people do not get the chance to, but now I am really beginning to realize that I want to be actively involved in all of these things that I love, and yet I am not certain that it isn’t too late.
At this point all I can do is keep all these ideas in my head, trying every day to move them forward and maybe I can in fact prove that it is never too late. If it is, I don’t want to know…so if you know keep it to yourself please.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
I hope not, and I think not, but am not yet convinced.
My youth was spent doing what I was supposed to do, what was expected, from sports, to working, to family obligations, and never considered anything else, never even thought to think it, if that can be said. It is not that I was unhappy with being an athlete, and I am not sure that I would have been any happier studying something else when I was in school, actually I am certain it would not have mattered, I studied what was logical for me to study based on the path that was set, and I didn’t even study that much, to be honest, until a broken bone in my foot helped me decide it was time to graduate.
I have always loved music, but that slowly went away, at least from the active participation perspective. I have always loved the theatre, especially musical theatre, film, writing, painting, cooking, and yet most of my life I have done little or nothing with any of this. I have continued to try and find the responsible path, and along the way I have accomplished some things that most people do not get the chance to, but now I am really beginning to realize that I want to be actively involved in all of these things that I love, and yet I am not certain that it isn’t too late.
At this point all I can do is keep all these ideas in my head, trying every day to move them forward and maybe I can in fact prove that it is never too late. If it is, I don’t want to know…so if you know keep it to yourself please.
Thank you again for getting this far with me.
Monday, June 8, 2009
First Off
Let's start with the title of this blog.
I have been using this phrase more and more as I move down whatever path this is that I am on because I think I have finally come to realize that I have not been the one steering for quite some time. No, to those of you that have been trying to convince me that He is trying to get my attention, I have not yet accepted that there is a "man behind the curtain" pulling all of the levers of my life, but I have at least tried to come to a point in my life where I realize I cannot control EVERYTHING that happens in my life, or around my life, and so "it is what it is" has become my way of reminding me and others that I am trying to accept something.
I am nowhere near a place where I have actually accepted anything necessarily, and I definitely have no idea what I would even be accepting, but I am getting there.
Now, why blog.
Honestly, the impetus for this is not really overly significant, at least not in the grand scheme of things; however, there did seem to be a strong push in the blog direction. I love movies. There I said it. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem, and although I have no idea who “they” are, nor do I care, I do love movies and I do watch a significant number of movies. I have found that I can no longer go to the local Blockbuster without winding up answering a question about where movies are, how they are organized there, or what I thought of a specific movie, and yes I actually like providing this feedback to those who ask, and even at times to those who do not. The other night by the time I left Blockbuster I had given a very nice couple six different movies from which they were trying to make their choice, they covered various genres, and some were off the beaten path a bit, yet they were movies I had enjoyed a great deal.
As the movie blog has been "marinating" in my brain, a concept stolen from a "Kissing Jessica Stein," I realized that I find myself often thinking about all sorts of stuff, all day long, where I think of writing a letter to the editor, or calling a friend and saying you are not going to believe what I just saw, or heard, or discovered. If these thoughts find their way out to people outside the local newspaper, where the chances of them running the letter is slim anyway, and especially if these thoughts get out to people I am close to from all over this country and beyond, then that to me is worth spending the time doing this.
On the outside chance that someone will read something that I may write here and be caused to think about something differently, or take a stance themselves, even if that stance is opposite that of mine, or best of all are someone moved by what I have written, then this time is extremely well spent. If one person a week is moved by something I have written here then I can affect 50 people a year for the rest of my life, and again that to makes this extremely worthwhile.
Lastly, I truly love writing, but have never been able to write without a muse. My wish is that this blog will become my vehicle to reach many a muse out there, known and unknown to keep me writing, thinking, growing and sharing. I am not promising enthralling literature here, but hopefully you will find something you enjoy along the way.
Thank you for getting this far with me.
I have been using this phrase more and more as I move down whatever path this is that I am on because I think I have finally come to realize that I have not been the one steering for quite some time. No, to those of you that have been trying to convince me that He is trying to get my attention, I have not yet accepted that there is a "man behind the curtain" pulling all of the levers of my life, but I have at least tried to come to a point in my life where I realize I cannot control EVERYTHING that happens in my life, or around my life, and so "it is what it is" has become my way of reminding me and others that I am trying to accept something.
I am nowhere near a place where I have actually accepted anything necessarily, and I definitely have no idea what I would even be accepting, but I am getting there.
Now, why blog.
Honestly, the impetus for this is not really overly significant, at least not in the grand scheme of things; however, there did seem to be a strong push in the blog direction. I love movies. There I said it. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem, and although I have no idea who “they” are, nor do I care, I do love movies and I do watch a significant number of movies. I have found that I can no longer go to the local Blockbuster without winding up answering a question about where movies are, how they are organized there, or what I thought of a specific movie, and yes I actually like providing this feedback to those who ask, and even at times to those who do not. The other night by the time I left Blockbuster I had given a very nice couple six different movies from which they were trying to make their choice, they covered various genres, and some were off the beaten path a bit, yet they were movies I had enjoyed a great deal.
As the movie blog has been "marinating" in my brain, a concept stolen from a "Kissing Jessica Stein," I realized that I find myself often thinking about all sorts of stuff, all day long, where I think of writing a letter to the editor, or calling a friend and saying you are not going to believe what I just saw, or heard, or discovered. If these thoughts find their way out to people outside the local newspaper, where the chances of them running the letter is slim anyway, and especially if these thoughts get out to people I am close to from all over this country and beyond, then that to me is worth spending the time doing this.
On the outside chance that someone will read something that I may write here and be caused to think about something differently, or take a stance themselves, even if that stance is opposite that of mine, or best of all are someone moved by what I have written, then this time is extremely well spent. If one person a week is moved by something I have written here then I can affect 50 people a year for the rest of my life, and again that to makes this extremely worthwhile.
Lastly, I truly love writing, but have never been able to write without a muse. My wish is that this blog will become my vehicle to reach many a muse out there, known and unknown to keep me writing, thinking, growing and sharing. I am not promising enthralling literature here, but hopefully you will find something you enjoy along the way.
Thank you for getting this far with me.
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