Yesterday I had lunch with one of the "old gang" I hadn't seen in over forty years! that's an insanely long time to be away from people you knew and cared about even if they were from High School days. Yes, not all of us were friends, we didn't know everyone well and we hung out with our best buddies, but we knew these other people enough to say hello and have somewhat meaningful conversations with them, or we were at least cordial if not outright friendly. But this guy was one of my closest friends so he qualifies as an "old gang" member big time.
So yesterday I had lunch with one of the "old gang" and a new member of the "new old gang" who was in our high school class and who I knew basically only in passing. Seeing him now I'm actually happy to know that I know him! Differences have gone away as new perspectives creep in. Age levels the field and gives us all a sense of camaraderie that wasn't there before. Now I remember him, he remembers me and we have a chance now to be in touch because we find ourselves living in the same town, how cool is that? I feel a sense of wonder like a little kid again. I have a new friend who could have been an old friend if things had just been a little bit different.
Yesterday I heard stories of others that were in our class: who's married, who got divorced, how many kids, how many grandchildren, who's passed on....already! We never know how that adventure called 'life' is going to treat us: who's going to get stroked, who's going to get beaten, or destroyed, or pampered and it's never the people who get what we think we thought they would. Got that? That is to say, the one most likely to......often isn't the one.
There was excitement as I found out that one of the girls I sort of had a crush on may be coming to visit this side of the state sometime and I'm actually excited at the prospect of seeing her again! We never dated of course, but we were very friendly and I have thought of her often over the years. I think it would be fantastic to see her and some of the other people that I found out about who are living here. I had no idea there were so many of my classmates so close by. Small world again...eh?
This is one time I'm glad the world seems to be so small. Now I just wish that more of the people I know and those I love so dearly were closer too. We're all not getting any younger. I'm going to have to work on that!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Much Ado About Little....Avatar.
"I can't believe I spent almost $21.00 on that piece of crap." That was: $11.00 for the ticket, after my senior discount of course, and almost $10.00 for a medium Diet Coke and a medium popcorn. The cost of the large sizes was even more exorbitant so I passed on those.
That was my mental state and statement as I walked out of the AMC theater #8 after sitting through one hour and thirty-five minutes of a two-and-a-half hour piece of cinematic garbage referred to as Avatar. I decided to see it after all the hearsay said it was "cool" or "fantastic FX," "Really good" and similar lauditory phrases. Too bad no-one had warned me about the dismal, almost continuous raft of profanity that was freely laced into the dialogue. My personal "profanity meter" wasn't totally off the scale but it was definitely in the zone where my alarm goes off.
The next big disappointment was the heavy-handed "green" sermon: "Big, evil corporation bad, peaceful native people with great earth spirituality good." The message was so blatant that the guy asleep in the 14th row could get it.
Then there was the ubiquitous feminazi message which we have had to endure for more years than anyone can remember, the one that keeps pounding out the message that men are rutting brutes with no capacity for feelings, speech or much of anything else except hyper-active libidos, and women are the superior race, who have to teach men just everything. This is rampant in our culture now and frankly, I'm sick of it and think it's long past time to see a more balanced approach to M-F relations portrayed in movies and television. I can dream, can't I? Men are cut down at every turn, debased, abased, ridiculed (Honey! The Ajax turned blue!) and treated like the vestigial creatures the feminazi rulers believe we are. In their eyes our only function is as sperm donors, and preferably not doing it in person. Enough already.
The other great draw, the 3D, was very disappointing—only the stuff in the middle of the screen was really sharp with almost everything else being out of focus, especially the things appearing to stick out of the screen. There was also a lot of motion blur...I thought they would have gotten that under control by now. The last 3D I saw was a mighty Mouse animated feature film back in the 50s that had better 3D than this. Remember the cardboard glasses with the red and blue cellophane lenses? The ones that David Tennant's Dr. Who still uses on occasion? They worked better than these "Real 'D' 3D" things.
So right after the big, mean MEN led by Colonel Jarhead (you know, the kind that rolls his own cigars for breakfast) rips up the sacred forest of the indigenous cat-people to the horror of all concerned forest-dwellers, I quit.
This has taught me a lesson—to listen to my inner voice that has kept me out of the movie theaters since that time when my late wife and I saw Monsters, Inc. That had no bad language and not even one character passed wind or made any other potty jokes, if I recall correctly.
It's sad when the only decent fare in the movies is the animated offerings and even then we have the aforementioned potty humor as standard fare. As for 3D? I won't be rushing back anytime soon to try it. Avatar is rated PG-13, so I'll stick to PG or higher from now on if this is a sample of how far the ratings have sunk. It's sad to note that one of the cinematic objections that went into the PG-13 Rating was "smoking". It's not only sad to think that that could be a factor in movie ratings but not the constant stream of profanity and blasphemy against the God of Christians that no-one seems to object to except Christians...and who cares about them or their sensitivities anyway? The filmmakers sure don't care about their God and, oh boy, are they gonna be in for a rude shock real soon!
It'll be a long time before I wander into a movie theater again. Let me have my Blockbuster On Demand suscription so I can pick what I want to watch in the comfort of my own home, for the cost of a bag of microwave popcorn.
That was my mental state and statement as I walked out of the AMC theater #8 after sitting through one hour and thirty-five minutes of a two-and-a-half hour piece of cinematic garbage referred to as Avatar. I decided to see it after all the hearsay said it was "cool" or "fantastic FX," "Really good" and similar lauditory phrases. Too bad no-one had warned me about the dismal, almost continuous raft of profanity that was freely laced into the dialogue. My personal "profanity meter" wasn't totally off the scale but it was definitely in the zone where my alarm goes off.
The next big disappointment was the heavy-handed "green" sermon: "Big, evil corporation bad, peaceful native people with great earth spirituality good." The message was so blatant that the guy asleep in the 14th row could get it.
Then there was the ubiquitous feminazi message which we have had to endure for more years than anyone can remember, the one that keeps pounding out the message that men are rutting brutes with no capacity for feelings, speech or much of anything else except hyper-active libidos, and women are the superior race, who have to teach men just everything. This is rampant in our culture now and frankly, I'm sick of it and think it's long past time to see a more balanced approach to M-F relations portrayed in movies and television. I can dream, can't I? Men are cut down at every turn, debased, abased, ridiculed (Honey! The Ajax turned blue!) and treated like the vestigial creatures the feminazi rulers believe we are. In their eyes our only function is as sperm donors, and preferably not doing it in person. Enough already.
The other great draw, the 3D, was very disappointing—only the stuff in the middle of the screen was really sharp with almost everything else being out of focus, especially the things appearing to stick out of the screen. There was also a lot of motion blur...I thought they would have gotten that under control by now. The last 3D I saw was a mighty Mouse animated feature film back in the 50s that had better 3D than this. Remember the cardboard glasses with the red and blue cellophane lenses? The ones that David Tennant's Dr. Who still uses on occasion? They worked better than these "Real 'D' 3D" things.
So right after the big, mean MEN led by Colonel Jarhead (you know, the kind that rolls his own cigars for breakfast) rips up the sacred forest of the indigenous cat-people to the horror of all concerned forest-dwellers, I quit.
This has taught me a lesson—to listen to my inner voice that has kept me out of the movie theaters since that time when my late wife and I saw Monsters, Inc. That had no bad language and not even one character passed wind or made any other potty jokes, if I recall correctly.
It's sad when the only decent fare in the movies is the animated offerings and even then we have the aforementioned potty humor as standard fare. As for 3D? I won't be rushing back anytime soon to try it. Avatar is rated PG-13, so I'll stick to PG or higher from now on if this is a sample of how far the ratings have sunk. It's sad to note that one of the cinematic objections that went into the PG-13 Rating was "smoking". It's not only sad to think that that could be a factor in movie ratings but not the constant stream of profanity and blasphemy against the God of Christians that no-one seems to object to except Christians...and who cares about them or their sensitivities anyway? The filmmakers sure don't care about their God and, oh boy, are they gonna be in for a rude shock real soon!
It'll be a long time before I wander into a movie theater again. Let me have my Blockbuster On Demand suscription so I can pick what I want to watch in the comfort of my own home, for the cost of a bag of microwave popcorn.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Bring them back
I want my heroes back. I want to see real men that do things the way "The Duke" used to. I don't want people who simply do their jobs and put in a day's work being touted as "heroes".
A hero is something that one has to be by action, not just something that happens by doing one's job. An Air Force aviator shot down and held captive for 65 days before being rescued is not a hero. I'm sorry, but unless that individual did something heroic, they don't get the title. The fictional Forrest Gump running into the front lines to carry out, bodily, each member of his company is a hero. The grunt that lays down machine-gun fire to cover the retreat of his platoon without regard for his own life is a hero.
Such deeds are so heroic that our government allows for the awarding of very important medals and other acknowledgements posthumously in the event that said heroes do not survive their acts of bravery, over and above the call of duty.
I used to have "real men" I could look up to. Most of these guys were WWII vets and had some stories to tell. Some of them like "The Duke" and others played fictional men of valor. Some of the real ones had stories so painful that they wouldn't tell; so gut-wrenching that they should never be told; so horrifying that just thinking about them was too much. I see these men on TV now--they're old and they're being interviewed and they all say the same thing when someone tries to call them heroes, they just scoff and say: "I'm no hero, we were just doing a job....the guys who didn't make it....the guys who gave it all....there's your heroes."
Just like the guys before us who gave it all in Iwo Jima, France, Dunkirk, Casablanca, Rome, Corregidor, Leyte Gulf, and on and on....all deserve our utter respect for the liberty and rejection of tyrrany they bought for the world and for all of us in the free world.
"There's your heroes."
A hero is something that one has to be by action, not just something that happens by doing one's job. An Air Force aviator shot down and held captive for 65 days before being rescued is not a hero. I'm sorry, but unless that individual did something heroic, they don't get the title. The fictional Forrest Gump running into the front lines to carry out, bodily, each member of his company is a hero. The grunt that lays down machine-gun fire to cover the retreat of his platoon without regard for his own life is a hero.
Such deeds are so heroic that our government allows for the awarding of very important medals and other acknowledgements posthumously in the event that said heroes do not survive their acts of bravery, over and above the call of duty.
I used to have "real men" I could look up to. Most of these guys were WWII vets and had some stories to tell. Some of them like "The Duke" and others played fictional men of valor. Some of the real ones had stories so painful that they wouldn't tell; so gut-wrenching that they should never be told; so horrifying that just thinking about them was too much. I see these men on TV now--they're old and they're being interviewed and they all say the same thing when someone tries to call them heroes, they just scoff and say: "I'm no hero, we were just doing a job....the guys who didn't make it....the guys who gave it all....there's your heroes."
Just like the guys before us who gave it all in Iwo Jima, France, Dunkirk, Casablanca, Rome, Corregidor, Leyte Gulf, and on and on....all deserve our utter respect for the liberty and rejection of tyrrany they bought for the world and for all of us in the free world.
"There's your heroes."
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Another listening Gem....
I have become a fan of a totally unique TV show called Wretched, with Todd Friel. It's social satire in a way, and features Mr. Friel standing in a "hip" room doing a monologue about current events, but presenting them from a distinctly Evangelical Christian viewpoint. He claims to be "the wretch the song refers to". He closes every show with the admonition: "....go serve your King."
He's not afraid to be direct and doesn't mince words; if something is bothersome, otherwise out of whack or just plain un-Biblical, he says so and gives references in scripture to support it. The style is, in a word, manic and the jumpy camera work can be annoying, but his content is always right on the money.
Check you local listings to see if Wretched is available in your area or on your provider's system at all. On our FIOS system here in West-central Florida it's broadcast on the FamNet station (#242). You can also get to it on the web at http://www.wretchedradio.com/ where you can listen to the rerun radio stream or catch the live feed from 3-5 PM Eastern time.
He's not afraid to be direct and doesn't mince words; if something is bothersome, otherwise out of whack or just plain un-Biblical, he says so and gives references in scripture to support it. The style is, in a word, manic and the jumpy camera work can be annoying, but his content is always right on the money.
Check you local listings to see if Wretched is available in your area or on your provider's system at all. On our FIOS system here in West-central Florida it's broadcast on the FamNet station (#242). You can also get to it on the web at http://www.wretchedradio.com/ where you can listen to the rerun radio stream or catch the live feed from 3-5 PM Eastern time.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
It's Thursday, just Thursday
It's now time for 'normal' people to be getting ready for the big night....the offices have closed early....the party platters are waiting to be picked-up, there are millions of brightly colored paper hats and streamers....confetti in ribbons, confetti in little chad pieces (which, by the way, was the origin of confetti). Soon people will be gathering for meals, drinks and other forms of fellowship....some will get drunk and need a ride home....some will get drunk and drive home anyway....some will not make it home.
Ever since I finally got on the road to sobriety back in May of 1983, I have become less and less interested in New Year's Eve (NYE) for it is, at its core, all about drinking. Rare indeed is the social gathering that meets tonight without any alcohol to help lubricate the proceedings. Yes, I know that my fellow Christians can and will be meeting at each other's homes and for those select few, there will be a rampant rash of sobriety abounding.
Fact is, I don't much care for NYE ever since I quit being a musician back in the bad old days. Back then NYE was the big money night....you would walk off with a nice wad for the same amount of work you did on all the other band nights.....more like what you should have been getting paid in the first place.
So now I don't "do" NYE anymore for three reasons:
Ever since I finally got on the road to sobriety back in May of 1983, I have become less and less interested in New Year's Eve (NYE) for it is, at its core, all about drinking. Rare indeed is the social gathering that meets tonight without any alcohol to help lubricate the proceedings. Yes, I know that my fellow Christians can and will be meeting at each other's homes and for those select few, there will be a rampant rash of sobriety abounding.
Fact is, I don't much care for NYE ever since I quit being a musician back in the bad old days. Back then NYE was the big money night....you would walk off with a nice wad for the same amount of work you did on all the other band nights.....more like what you should have been getting paid in the first place.
So now I don't "do" NYE anymore for three reasons:
- It's dangerous. I used to drive home for an hour in a total alcoholic blackout. The last statistic I knew twenty years ago said that 25% of the population had an alcohol problem. What's that like today, especially when you add drugs into the mix? I don't want to be on the road when I know that at least one in four vehicles on the road is being piloted by someone who is as bad off as I used to be.
- I don't play music in the secular world anymore and there are no gigs for Christian musicians on NYE in my area so I guess I'm not going to be getting geared up for a big bash tonight or any other NYE.
- The biggest reason is that I don't drink. No booze equals very little reason to 'party'. If I had an invitation to share the eve with Christian friends it would definitely be with the understanding that I would leave early anyway to get home and crash at a human hour. So by the grace of a loving Higher Power that I call God and Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, I am free from the deadly obsession of booze one day at a time. God bless the beautiful, simple precepts and 12 steps of AA for helping me get started back on the road to the true healer, Jesus.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Ya think?........
There is now a new television commercial that features one of Hollywood's truly lovely women, Ms. Brooke Shields, in an ad for a new elixir that is used for, get this, growing fuller eyelashes. Hold on, it gets worse.
What's remarkable about the ad, aside from the obvious appeal of someone like Ms. Shields, is a line in the copy being delivered by the voice-over narrator. At one point he says: "...for inadequate or not enough eyelashes". Now....correct me if I'm wrong but aren't "inadequate" eyelashes and "not enough" eyelashes the same thing?
To be fair to Brooke I have to say that she wouldn't know what the voice-over would be....in Hollywood she would come in, do her two or three scene setups, and go. The post-production people would then take over and assemble the final product into a complete ad for the client. Ms. Shields would never know what the final ad would look or sound like.
But I'm still embarassed for her and the client who spent money to have this ad done. They should have made sure that a qualified proofreader (such as my esteemed self "truly a legend in his own mind....") reviewed the copy and caught this blatant boo-boo before it escaped onto the small screen. Oh well, I guess they'll call me next time they have have something for me to review or look over (tongue-firmly-in-cheek).
What's remarkable about the ad, aside from the obvious appeal of someone like Ms. Shields, is a line in the copy being delivered by the voice-over narrator. At one point he says: "...for inadequate or not enough eyelashes". Now....correct me if I'm wrong but aren't "inadequate" eyelashes and "not enough" eyelashes the same thing?
To be fair to Brooke I have to say that she wouldn't know what the voice-over would be....in Hollywood she would come in, do her two or three scene setups, and go. The post-production people would then take over and assemble the final product into a complete ad for the client. Ms. Shields would never know what the final ad would look or sound like.
But I'm still embarassed for her and the client who spent money to have this ad done. They should have made sure that a qualified proofreader (such as my esteemed self "truly a legend in his own mind....") reviewed the copy and caught this blatant boo-boo before it escaped onto the small screen. Oh well, I guess they'll call me next time they have have something for me to review or look over (tongue-firmly-in-cheek).
Nothing to Say......
The title of this post is the title of a song often heard on Christian radio and it's by Andrew Peterson, a singer-songwriter of great talent. The title appealed to me because I decided that today is a day off. It's a strange day: it's like the day Joni Mitchell wrote about in Chelsea Morning:
Anyone who knows me even a little bit well knows that I'm a long-time fan of Ms. Mitchell even if she is Canadian :-) I know, she can be profane and terminally cynical at times but her lyrics are eerily similar to my own thoughts, or my thoughts as they often used to be. You see, I have actually gotten over my desire to fly like Peter Pan and to be a real boy like Pinocchio. I did something both wonderful and horrible....I grew up.
I don't have the same dreams I used to have anymore. As I've gotten older, my desires, tastes and aspirations have become transformed, twisted around, refined, chewed up and finally disgorged as something the cat never even considered dragging in. In short....I'm different.
The apostle Paul said that when he was young he did young guy things; then he grew older and put away childish pursuits. For some of us this is good....for others it may mean having to avoid trading toy guns for real ones or you could end up like Charlton Heston, waving a rifle at a NRA meeting (personally, I don't think that's all bad....I'm on his side).
So when did we trade youthful zeal for aged contentment? Where did the fire in the belly get to? It moved into the fireplace to warm our aching bodies is where. And what about stamina? Remember how you could stay up for three days straight, stay out all night Friday Saturday & Sunday with three different girls (or women if you were lucky), play volleyball for six hours, ping-pong for four hours, cram for a physics final, take the final and pass, eat at least one whole garbage pizza, drive to the next state for ice cream, etc.....then get 5 hours sleep and be totally okay? Can't do that anymore, huh? I'm lucky if I can stay awake after dinner these days!
My body now makes sounds like my electric can opener (which I need for my arthritic hands) groans like my lawnmower (self-propelled of course 'cause my legs and feet are bad), Wheezings like my coffee maker, makes clicking and grinding noises like my car; also have shoulders and knees that go crackle and crunch every time I try to move them too far, and, oh yes, I have 3 degrees of eyeball enhancers with various stages of magnification: Normal vision, mid-range (for computer) and close up, allegedly for reading...except I know no-one who sits in the bathroom with a magazine held up 4 inches from their nose (Does anyone really read like that?). Come to think of it, I haven't seen anyone read like that sitting anywhere.
So there it is....I'm getting older. It's a tough thing to face at times, but face it we must because there ain't no stopping it or going back. And you know what? I don't wanna go back....I'm kinda likin' who I've turned into (by the grace of you-know-who) and now that I'm sixty-three years old and in such lousy shape, I have only one question......what's up for the next sixty-three years Lord? Bring it on!
Woke up, it was a Chelsea Morning, and the first thing that I knew—
There was milk, and toast, and honey,
And a bowl of oranges too,
And a bowl of oranges too,
And the sun poured in like butterscotch,
And stuck to all my senses......
And stuck to all my senses......
Oh—
Won't you stay,
Won't you stay,
We'll put on the day,
And we'll talk in present tenses.
Anyone who knows me even a little bit well knows that I'm a long-time fan of Ms. Mitchell even if she is Canadian :-) I know, she can be profane and terminally cynical at times but her lyrics are eerily similar to my own thoughts, or my thoughts as they often used to be. You see, I have actually gotten over my desire to fly like Peter Pan and to be a real boy like Pinocchio. I did something both wonderful and horrible....I grew up.
I don't have the same dreams I used to have anymore. As I've gotten older, my desires, tastes and aspirations have become transformed, twisted around, refined, chewed up and finally disgorged as something the cat never even considered dragging in. In short....I'm different.
The apostle Paul said that when he was young he did young guy things; then he grew older and put away childish pursuits. For some of us this is good....for others it may mean having to avoid trading toy guns for real ones or you could end up like Charlton Heston, waving a rifle at a NRA meeting (personally, I don't think that's all bad....I'm on his side).
So when did we trade youthful zeal for aged contentment? Where did the fire in the belly get to? It moved into the fireplace to warm our aching bodies is where. And what about stamina? Remember how you could stay up for three days straight, stay out all night Friday Saturday & Sunday with three different girls (or women if you were lucky), play volleyball for six hours, ping-pong for four hours, cram for a physics final, take the final and pass, eat at least one whole garbage pizza, drive to the next state for ice cream, etc.....then get 5 hours sleep and be totally okay? Can't do that anymore, huh? I'm lucky if I can stay awake after dinner these days!
My body now makes sounds like my electric can opener (which I need for my arthritic hands) groans like my lawnmower (self-propelled of course 'cause my legs and feet are bad), Wheezings like my coffee maker, makes clicking and grinding noises like my car; also have shoulders and knees that go crackle and crunch every time I try to move them too far, and, oh yes, I have 3 degrees of eyeball enhancers with various stages of magnification: Normal vision, mid-range (for computer) and close up, allegedly for reading...except I know no-one who sits in the bathroom with a magazine held up 4 inches from their nose (Does anyone really read like that?). Come to think of it, I haven't seen anyone read like that sitting anywhere.
So there it is....I'm getting older. It's a tough thing to face at times, but face it we must because there ain't no stopping it or going back. And you know what? I don't wanna go back....I'm kinda likin' who I've turned into (by the grace of you-know-who) and now that I'm sixty-three years old and in such lousy shape, I have only one question......what's up for the next sixty-three years Lord? Bring it on!
Dirty lil’ Ditty-- Mike Rowe WORKS
If you are a fan of the Dirty Jobs tv show as I am, you'll like being able to go to the official Mike Rowe website and click on the video of the official Dirty Jobs theme song. No, not that lame musical blurb that they use to open and close the show or go in and out of commercial breaks; I mean the full-length song that gives the real low-down on all that is Dirty Jobs. Click on this link then click on the big arrow in the middle of the picture to start the fun.
It's really a hoot. The video quality is not great (at least on my hi-res screen) but there ain't nothin' wrong with the audio.
http://www.mikeroweworks.com/2009/07/dirty-lil-ditty/
It's really a hoot. The video quality is not great (at least on my hi-res screen) but there ain't nothin' wrong with the audio.
http://www.mikeroweworks.com/2009/07/dirty-lil-ditty/
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