What I Love

This probably should be a post over on  the main blog but I felt like visiting my old home so here I am. Who knows, I may move it over there or continue it.

Been thinking quite hard about what I love and have decided that I am not doing enough to focus on doing those things that make my heart sing. Not spending enough time with those people I love most and just not as happy because I am not doing what I should be doing with my time.

So my task is to figure out how to change this. My goal is to do it sooner than later because all I am doing now is wasting time I can't get back.

I feel like I am on the verge of something huge but in order to make it happen I have to fight through the muck and mire that are slowing me down.

Some of those things are of my own creation and others are outside of my control but ultimately it is up to me to decide how to respond. I can be proactive or reactive with that response but I can't be both.

That is not just because it is contradictory but because I can't accept it. I have to draw my line in the sand and make the changes happen because I can't tolerate anything less.

Dear Crazy Neighbor

Dear Crazy Neighbor,

Today is not a good day to mess with me. I haven't had my coffee yet. I have too much work, too little time and that is real fire coming from my nostrils.

I know that I am not the only one in the neighborhood to receive your special attention but that doesn't mean that I feel any less irritation with your need to come witness. I haven't any interest, need or desire to hear about your love for the lord.

There is no saving my soul. Just accept that it is beyond help and repair and that if you insist on continuing I will set up an altar on your porch and slaughter an ox, a chicken, a duck, two goats and a lamb. It will be done all in the name of Satan and for good measure I will see that Ozzy Osbourne performs live, except we won't use the "I am giving a way a colonoscopy" man.

No ma'am I will ensure that I will find the guy that used to bite the heads off of bats.

Hell, I might even try to revive the US festival. With a little bit of luck I'll have a bunch of bands show up and you'll wake up to something like this:

I can't help but smile at the thought of all this. You have pushed, prodded and poked me for the last time and I am not the only one.

The whole freaking neighborhood is ready to take up a collection to help you and your freaky-deaky brood move. Believe me, they won't lose a moment of sleep over the sacrifice and the concert.

Hell, the Johnsons and the Keepstexiovichs have already asked if they can work as roadies and I have firm commitments from the Marmosets, Pavlovichs and Craptonks to work security.

Sadly you are so delusional that I don't think you'll recognize this note to be a poorly written joke. You won't think of it as satire and will respond by writing another one of those 12 page single spaced, double sided letters that make Jack and Jill look like Pulitzer Prize writing.

So I might as well end this and grab my cup of Joe. Sometimes Monday's suck.

The 100 Year Old Bride

I Am A Lonely Man

Outside the sky is blue and covered in flecks of white dots that double as clouds. Cumulus nimbus is what my junior high school teacher called them, at least I think that is what he said. Can't say that I remember all that well, or maybe the problem is that I remember far too well. I remember the days when I fit in and felt like a part of society.

I know, it sounds screwy. If you know me you'd never have a clue that I am a lonely man. You wouldn't guess that my days feel like they have no meaning at all. I am a good actor. That smile I paste across my face and the silly banter are all part of my disguise. A shield that I use to keep people from seeing that the man is nothing more than shell of a person.

I know, you're thinking that it sounds tired, a cliche and somewhat pathetic to say these things. It is hard for me to write them and even harder for me to accept that the boy who showed so much promise grew into the man who has yet to fulfill one of his dreams. Not one single dream, not one.

My friend Mike says that the reason that I haven't managed to fulfill one single dream is that they aren't ordinary dreams. They aren't the type of thing that you can just do. He says that I should take it easy on myself because dream fulfillment doesn't take place over night. He says that it is better this way because if I fly too close to the sun than I'll really earn the name Icarus.

I tell him that I need to do better, that I can't wait for Godot to show up and help me. He just laughs and tells me that I am being too hard on myself and that if I would just ease up I'd be happier.

Maybe he is right.

The thing is that when I look around all I see are people who look happier than me. All around me are couples holding hands, looking dreamily into each other's eyes. All around me are people who walk confidently into wherever it is they are going. Surely they don't feel like I do. They couldn't possibly exude that much confidence without feeling it.

Mike says that I am crazy. Mike says that some of those people are hiding behind their smiles, just like I do. I tell Mike that I feel like one of those sneetches that didn't get the star. I feel like the kid who missed hearing the teacher's instructions. Everyone else knows how to play the game of life and I don't.

Every now and then Mike makes sense to me so I try to do as he says. I take his words to heart and try to apply them. I look around my office and imagine that they are all scared and lonely too. It works for a while and then I start to get nervous.

I start wondering if maybe Mike isn't confused. I start thinking that maybe Mike isn't so smart and that maybe he is the one that needs to be set straight. And every now and then I find myself in a heated argument with Mike because sometimes he needs to be confronted about these things. I may feel like I am lost. I may feel like I am the only one who doesn't get it, but even I know a thing or two.

I may hide behind my smile, but it doesn't mean that I haven't learned something. And then in the middle of my righteous indignation I remember that Mike really isn't such a good role model. He really doesn't know any more than I do.

And most importantly I remember that the reason I have never introduced my mother to Mike is because if she saw me introduce her to the guy in the mirror she'd think that I was making a joke and she might laugh. And if she laughed that would hurt Mike's feelings. He might not know so much, but he is still a person and you shouldn't intentionally hurt a person's feelings.

*****

Sometimes I forget when and where I met Mike. I don't know if it really matters because Mike is the best and truest friend I got. He is the only one who never leaves me and the only one who listens to all I got to say.

And believe me, I got a lot.

There used to be others. There used to be them that got my best interest in mind and those that claimed they did. I don't remember all of their names because when you live the hard scrabble life you start to unlearn that which you once knew.

You can't carry all them hopes and dreams you once had because they aren't real. The streets are real, oh yeah, they are real. If you ain't real you don't make it for very long on the streets.

That is part of why I like Mike and why I need him. He keeps me focused. He doesn't let me feel bad about what happened because it wasn't my fault.

We were walking down Michigan Avenue. It was bright and sunny. She was holding my hand and she never let go. Even after that car jumped the curb and pinned her against the building she never stopped holding my hand.

I tried to pull it off of her. Tried to push it. Did everything that I could do but it didn't matter, cuz she died anyway.

I couldn't save her. Couldn't hold her and make her feel better or stop the pain. Don't know why it hit her and not me. I was so much bigger. Why didn't it hit me. Why did they have to take her. Why not me. She was better than I was and so much better than I am now.

She told me to stop screaming. Said that I should calm down, even as the life was running out of her and heading somewhere else she was taking care of me.

I should have protected her better. I should have seen it coming. I should have heard it. Could have done something more, I know I could have.

*****


Mike tells me that I should finish letting go and just forget. He says that there ain't no point in thinking about her or remembering 'cuz it only hurts us.


Mike says that it is good that I hit the driver 'cuz he was drunk and it is his fault that we are what we are today. He says that I should be proud that it took so many people to pull me off of that guy. He says that it is good that I crippled that guy because I am crippled now.


But sometimes I don't like it when he says it because she wouldn't have wanted it. She would have told me it was an accident and that I should let go. But that is the thing, I did let go. That accident forced me to let go.


I ain't who I was and haven't been for years. Now I am just a shadow who walks the streets. Mostly I keep to myself, but sometimes people mess with me. usually I growl at them and they run away but sometimes the stupid and mean ones do more.


That is ok with me. I like stupid and mean because when I am angry I fight. And when I fight I forget about being so damn lonely.

Creating Content

Copyblogger posted the infographic below today. It is worth looking at.

What Marketers Know About You

Can't say that I am surprised by any of this but I am not especially pleased either. Read the clip and then read the whole story.

“We have the capacity to send every customer an ad booklet, specifically designed for them, that says, ‘Here’s everything you bought last week and a coupon for it,’ ” one Target executive told me. “We do that for grocery products all the time.” But for pregnant women, Target’s goal was selling them baby items they didn’t even know they needed yet.

“With the pregnancy products, though, we learned that some women react badly,” the executive said. “Then we started mixing in all these ads for things we knew pregnant women would never buy, so the baby ads looked random. We’d put an ad for a lawn mower next to diapers. We’d put a coupon for wineglasses next to infant clothes. That way, it looked like all the products were chosen by chance.

“And we found out that as long as a pregnant woman thinks she hasn’t been spied on, she’ll use the coupons. She just assumes that everyone else on her block got the same mailer for diapers and cribs. As long as we don’t spook her, it works.”

Read the whole story...

Flash Fiction #2133

"I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion -

 I have shudder’d at it. 

I shudder no more. 

I could be martyr’d for my religion 

Love is my religion 

And I could die for that. 

I could die for you."  

John Keats 

You once told me that you would never forgive me for not finding you sooner. You said that you couldn't believe that two people could be so perfectly matched and yet live so far apart.

I nodded my head in understanding. You weren't looking for a response or asking for an answer so I remained silent. I knew that you were venting and just wanted to be heard.

You said our situation sucked and I nodded my head again. I didn't agree with your assessment but that wasn't the time to tell you that you were wrong. I opened my arms and you stepped into them. I wrapped them around you and stroked your hair.

I could feel you trembling and I knew that you were crying. I left your head on my shoulder and hugged you tighter. When I shifted you wrapped your legs around my body and I walked us to the couch.

We sat there in the dark, our bodies still intertwined and I listened to you breathe. I felt your hands running up and down my back but still I remained silent. Some might have suggested that my silence was an effort to leverage my position for power but it was no such thing.

I knew that you knew that. I also knew that I couldn't fix what was broken. All I could do was wait it out. It wasn't easy. It is not my nature to just hold still and accept what comes but sometimes we have no choice.

You kissed me hard on the mouth and I knew that I had a choice to make. I could push things in one of two directions. You were ready to give yourself to me but I knew that it was part of your desire to say goodbye but I hesitated to take what was freely offered.

I had already started the process of mentally moving my gear back into my man cave and I knew that soft and loving wasn't something that I could offer that night. So I decided that you would have to make it clear that other options were open to me.

Besides I knew that if you made that decision it would be easier for you. In the dark I wrapped my fingers in your hair and stared at the outline of your face. There wasn't any need for words. You understood and so did I.