Sometimes you forget.
You forget exactly what it was that made you fall in love.
It is easy to fall in a rut, which sounds painful….big freaking rut.
Mortgage, kids lunches, rides, insurance, sometimes it seems like a business partnership with the occasional late night groping thrown in…(actually, that sounds like elany arts….jk)
You might lose the spark, or better put it becomes a bit of a charcoal, simmering, almost forgotten, only noticed when it goes out.
S. and I recently took a trip to Germany which as many of you know is something of a second home to me and my friends. To quotes a great philosopher and artist, “We are something of a big deal around here.”
S. often complained bitterly about being the one at home while I toured the world, hobnobbed with the social elite, debated cutlery with royalty. The reality of course was something a bit different. Once I took a crap on the side of a building in Leeds, England, huddled in the shadows, cowering like a dog because nothing was open when something tripped the floodlights and I was exposed for all the world to see and to mock.
It was there that I saw my lover through my nineteen year old eyes, bright, smiling, first one dancing and last one up. She lived life like thirsty man drank, gulping, gasping, eyes wide open.
When I write my memoirs I think I will point to this trip as one of the greatest weeks of my, dare I say it, our lives. Thank you for that Robert. Thank you for that, S.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
I DARE ALL BLOGGERS, ESPECIALLY LATSHAW!
match this...
oh yeah...
first blog in poetry form....
Is there anything more intimidating than the blank page?
Or the deafening silence before a single note is played?
Miles of empty, a vortex of silence, all rendered the cruelest of deceits.
To create is to emulate the Creator; is there anything more pure?
Course you can’t eat Art, art is nothing, never even a cure,
To think anything more is merely a conceit.
Creativity is a blessing, though sometimes feels like a curse,
It can feel like heaven, it can feel worse
It is easy to question your gifts.
It is harder to believe.
oh yeah...
first blog in poetry form....
Is there anything more intimidating than the blank page?
Or the deafening silence before a single note is played?
Miles of empty, a vortex of silence, all rendered the cruelest of deceits.
To create is to emulate the Creator; is there anything more pure?
Course you can’t eat Art, art is nothing, never even a cure,
To think anything more is merely a conceit.
Creativity is a blessing, though sometimes feels like a curse,
It can feel like heaven, it can feel worse
It is easy to question your gifts.
It is harder to believe.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
"Ugh.."
So it feels like I am wearing a little sweater vest of pain.
Yesterday I had surgery for a hernia, which is just a word for a “hole” in the abdominal walls. Apparently it just “happens.” Recovery is “agonizing”. “Great.”
It went pretty smoothly. The only hitch was that when they ran an MRI on me a group of techs gathered and I heard mutterings.
“This is bad. This is terrible. This is a mess.”
I recoiled in fear. “Oh no…the print out is blurry. You are fine.”
I got to wear an adorable little robe. I want to thank my parents and my wife for accompanying me. Some bullet points:
-They told me to avoid making decisions for the full day after anathesia. I told them that I was married and had not made a decision in fifteen years.
-I was, of course, hilarious. The surgical team loved me. I usually shine in situations like this. One time I was arrested and the arresting officer referred to me as a “breath of fresh air” in the Newark Police Department.
-I am not allowed to lift over ten pounds so I don’t know how I will be using the bathroom. Perhaps we can start a sign-up sheet at church for assistance?
-Since I was so well behaved, my parents took me to the Mall after the doc’s and I got a delicious meal of food and the new Madden football game. It is amazing btw.
So Ernie is gone. Yep, Ernie the Hernia. I feel a sense of longing.
So I have the next week or so off and I will be using it to heal, start my novel, record my solo full-length, and finish the basement.
Most likely I will watch X-Files, get mediocre at Madden, and lift about.
Yesterday I had surgery for a hernia, which is just a word for a “hole” in the abdominal walls. Apparently it just “happens.” Recovery is “agonizing”. “Great.”
It went pretty smoothly. The only hitch was that when they ran an MRI on me a group of techs gathered and I heard mutterings.
“This is bad. This is terrible. This is a mess.”
I recoiled in fear. “Oh no…the print out is blurry. You are fine.”
I got to wear an adorable little robe. I want to thank my parents and my wife for accompanying me. Some bullet points:
-They told me to avoid making decisions for the full day after anathesia. I told them that I was married and had not made a decision in fifteen years.
-I was, of course, hilarious. The surgical team loved me. I usually shine in situations like this. One time I was arrested and the arresting officer referred to me as a “breath of fresh air” in the Newark Police Department.
-I am not allowed to lift over ten pounds so I don’t know how I will be using the bathroom. Perhaps we can start a sign-up sheet at church for assistance?
-Since I was so well behaved, my parents took me to the Mall after the doc’s and I got a delicious meal of food and the new Madden football game. It is amazing btw.
So Ernie is gone. Yep, Ernie the Hernia. I feel a sense of longing.
So I have the next week or so off and I will be using it to heal, start my novel, record my solo full-length, and finish the basement.
Most likely I will watch X-Files, get mediocre at Madden, and lift about.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Phinally...the Ijosh has an Iphone
All my life I have wanted an Iphone. I remember when I was just a child looking into the crystal windows of the “Apple Store” and watching the happy children play with theirs, loading fun apps, laughingly sending each other text messages rife with good humor. My family could not afford to get me an Iphone so I had to make do with the Yphone, which was a little container I could keep nickels in to use on the various payphones scattered through the city. The other children in the Dickensian work camp in which I grew up mocked me and would often steal the nickels and use them to purchase snuff and colored kerchiefs.
So you can imagine my excitement when I heard the Iphone was dropping their price hundreds of dollars to only $199. I flew into a tizzy at the news. I imagined myself like all the other happy shiny people, laughing, free of back pain, tossing their raven locks over their shoulders, talking about Barack Obama’s chances, and discussing marketing. I rushed to the Apple Store, which was much more advanced than the one of my youth. On my way there my friend told me on my stupid dumb phone that was completely I-free that they weren’t coming out until July. Whatever. Back to my blah life.
I was a nervous wreck waiting for the big launch. Ads would tease and titillate me, promising that the Iphone would end boredom as we know it. A lofty ideal. There were a few potential flies in the ointment. (Ew…what ointment are you using? I prefer linament. More natcheral, yup.)
1. What if AT & T rejected me? I am what people call creditally challenges, due to some misunderstanding over when bills were due. I prefer to go on my own time-line, certain companies want to be paid. These things happen. So what happens if I wait in line at the apple store, perform whatever unsavory duties Apple insisted on, and then they refuse my service? I would be just crushed…probably never recover. Be in therapy for the rest of my life.
B. That is really my main concern.
So I couldn’t just wait and do it like everyone else right? Too much risk. So I went online the day before the Iphones launched. (imagine hundreds of shiny black phones sailing into the horizon). I filled out the necessary pull-downs and me and the Ol’ Lady became official members of the AT and T family. I just picked the cheapest phones since I certainly wasn’t gonna keep them was I? No I would be trading them in, prolly not even get em registered or whatever.
So the day of I went to the Apple Store and started waiting in line. One of the Apple Minions came through the line, offering snacks and water to those that had been waiting over 24 hours. They also asked some questions.
“Are you ready?”- Everyone screamed hell yeah!
“Do you love Steve Jobs?”- People fell on the ground, convulsing. It was a scene right out of the Golden Lamb jam.
“Are you already an AT and T member?” –YES! I screamed. Alone. The voice in the wilderness.
Uh-oh.
Problem.
I was ushered into a dark corner where ice-cold water was splashed into my face.
Figuratively.
“Well, the thing is…you aren’t eligible for an upgrade…so the Iphone will actually be…$1,298.00 dollares.”
“But I have been a member for like…six hours…”
“Sorry sir. I know you are upset. I know it hurts.”
I was told to talk to the AT and T store which fortunately calmed me down by feigning interest and staying awake through my whole story.
“You know if you had just waited like…a day you would be using an Iphone right now.”
Yeah thanks.
So I was told to use the Pooh-phones when they came, wait until the ATT store got in the shipments of the glistening new I-phones from the cyber docks.
So I let everyone knew I had a new number but not a new Iphone. (Imagine scores of people erasing my contact and writing in a new one)
Then I started thinking.
See I got this thing with phone numbers. First off, the older your prefix the better. Let me explain.
368 is the greatest Newark Number you can have. Followed by 738, then 731. Classics man. Those are the Beatles of Delaware prefixes.
So I have always been uncomfortable with my Maryland number which as you know is not even 410…..443? what?
So I took this opportunity to change my number to a Delaware number. It just felt right.
So I had to tell everyone again, this is my new number. Won’t change again.
Untill the ATT man tells us that we have to cancel out our numbers and get new ones in order to get the Iphone.
So again I got new numbers….third in as many weeks. And I got the iphone which is the greatest thing I have ever bought. I am finally one of the elite, actually the elite of the elite….owner of the 3G iphone.
So you can imagine my excitement when I heard the Iphone was dropping their price hundreds of dollars to only $199. I flew into a tizzy at the news. I imagined myself like all the other happy shiny people, laughing, free of back pain, tossing their raven locks over their shoulders, talking about Barack Obama’s chances, and discussing marketing. I rushed to the Apple Store, which was much more advanced than the one of my youth. On my way there my friend told me on my stupid dumb phone that was completely I-free that they weren’t coming out until July. Whatever. Back to my blah life.
I was a nervous wreck waiting for the big launch. Ads would tease and titillate me, promising that the Iphone would end boredom as we know it. A lofty ideal. There were a few potential flies in the ointment. (Ew…what ointment are you using? I prefer linament. More natcheral, yup.)
1. What if AT & T rejected me? I am what people call creditally challenges, due to some misunderstanding over when bills were due. I prefer to go on my own time-line, certain companies want to be paid. These things happen. So what happens if I wait in line at the apple store, perform whatever unsavory duties Apple insisted on, and then they refuse my service? I would be just crushed…probably never recover. Be in therapy for the rest of my life.
B. That is really my main concern.
So I couldn’t just wait and do it like everyone else right? Too much risk. So I went online the day before the Iphones launched. (imagine hundreds of shiny black phones sailing into the horizon). I filled out the necessary pull-downs and me and the Ol’ Lady became official members of the AT and T family. I just picked the cheapest phones since I certainly wasn’t gonna keep them was I? No I would be trading them in, prolly not even get em registered or whatever.
So the day of I went to the Apple Store and started waiting in line. One of the Apple Minions came through the line, offering snacks and water to those that had been waiting over 24 hours. They also asked some questions.
“Are you ready?”- Everyone screamed hell yeah!
“Do you love Steve Jobs?”- People fell on the ground, convulsing. It was a scene right out of the Golden Lamb jam.
“Are you already an AT and T member?” –YES! I screamed. Alone. The voice in the wilderness.
Uh-oh.
Problem.
I was ushered into a dark corner where ice-cold water was splashed into my face.
Figuratively.
“Well, the thing is…you aren’t eligible for an upgrade…so the Iphone will actually be…$1,298.00 dollares.”
“But I have been a member for like…six hours…”
“Sorry sir. I know you are upset. I know it hurts.”
I was told to talk to the AT and T store which fortunately calmed me down by feigning interest and staying awake through my whole story.
“You know if you had just waited like…a day you would be using an Iphone right now.”
Yeah thanks.
So I was told to use the Pooh-phones when they came, wait until the ATT store got in the shipments of the glistening new I-phones from the cyber docks.
So I let everyone knew I had a new number but not a new Iphone. (Imagine scores of people erasing my contact and writing in a new one)
Then I started thinking.
See I got this thing with phone numbers. First off, the older your prefix the better. Let me explain.
368 is the greatest Newark Number you can have. Followed by 738, then 731. Classics man. Those are the Beatles of Delaware prefixes.
So I have always been uncomfortable with my Maryland number which as you know is not even 410…..443? what?
So I took this opportunity to change my number to a Delaware number. It just felt right.
So I had to tell everyone again, this is my new number. Won’t change again.
Untill the ATT man tells us that we have to cancel out our numbers and get new ones in order to get the Iphone.
So again I got new numbers….third in as many weeks. And I got the iphone which is the greatest thing I have ever bought. I am finally one of the elite, actually the elite of the elite….owner of the 3G iphone.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
fear is what keeps us here...
“ I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
Fear is a funny thing. It can motivate. It can cause people to freak out and start crying. It can cause people to rise above what they thought they could accomplish and do great things. It can give people a cheap thrill-hence the huge popularity of both thrill rides and scary movies. (one time me and my small girl were having a father-daughter day and we decided to go to the movies. It was just when Saw had come out. I lifted her in my arms, nestled her head on my cheek and asked the ticket taker person, “Two for Saw please.”
She reacted with abject horror and I laughed and said, “Come on man I jes kidding.” Hilarious. This is fun for me.
I have been afraid many times in my life. I am still scared of certain things.
Clowns- dude clowns are freaking scary as hell. My mom can tell you I had a visceral reaction to clowns. First off, they ain’t funny. Has anyone ever in the history of clowndom EVER laughed at clown’s crazy antics? I didn’t think so. They are obviously all felons on the lam. Or why the crazy make-up? For reals.
Bridges- yeah laugh if you want to. All I know is that when I am on a bridge I am literally threads away from an icy death with the sounds of my dying family echoing in my ears. I don’t like the fact that my life is dependant on the fact that some factory worker on the Good-year assembly faked the results of a drug test. Hate em, man.
Hard work. That was for my dad. Sounds like something the old curmudgeon would say huh?
Anyway the first time fear caused me to rise above myself was when I was twelve years old. I was in my bed in the basement ,which is a totally scary room anyway (I once spent an entire evening freaked out and immobile because I thought there was a witch in the room with me. My parents were so far away (two stories up) that a witch could easily roast, flay and eat me with impunity, my shrieks echoing throughout the basement, unheeded by the rest of my family, who were cocooned in their master suite blaring the entire “Die Hard Trilogy”…oh yeah it was a coat rack.
Where was I?
Oh yeah. I was woken at about one by my father opening the door and pressing the cold steel of a butcher knife into my soft pre-pubescent hands. He whispered to me-
“There are Hispanic gangsters outside”
You need to go around the one side, I will go around the other.”
I nodded wordlessly. Our house is a dome. (they were the hotness for a while in 1976 man. Everyone who was awesome lived in a geodesic dome. I never felt weird or anything about it. )
So his plan I guess? He would go around one side, I would sneak around the other side and I guess we would meet and just slash the m-fers to bloody pieces. In retrospect my dad was no General Patton when it came to militairy strategerizing.
I remember that trip vividly. The brush, while in daylight was welcoming albeit a bit scarce, at night turned malevolent and threatening. My pulse quickened at the though of fighting these gangsters who were casing our house for their mis-gotten gains. I crept, a veritable shadow, a night stalker running on hate. I was a panther, a lithe killer. I came around the stairs on the left and, raising my weapon, was prepared for a to the death battle. I was greeted by my dad kinda shaking his head, rubbing his beard.
He said, “I am on this new migraine medicine. Go on back to sleep.”
And you thought the whole donut in milk thing was weird.
Fear is a funny thing. It can motivate. It can cause people to freak out and start crying. It can cause people to rise above what they thought they could accomplish and do great things. It can give people a cheap thrill-hence the huge popularity of both thrill rides and scary movies. (one time me and my small girl were having a father-daughter day and we decided to go to the movies. It was just when Saw had come out. I lifted her in my arms, nestled her head on my cheek and asked the ticket taker person, “Two for Saw please.”
She reacted with abject horror and I laughed and said, “Come on man I jes kidding.” Hilarious. This is fun for me.
I have been afraid many times in my life. I am still scared of certain things.
Clowns- dude clowns are freaking scary as hell. My mom can tell you I had a visceral reaction to clowns. First off, they ain’t funny. Has anyone ever in the history of clowndom EVER laughed at clown’s crazy antics? I didn’t think so. They are obviously all felons on the lam. Or why the crazy make-up? For reals.
Bridges- yeah laugh if you want to. All I know is that when I am on a bridge I am literally threads away from an icy death with the sounds of my dying family echoing in my ears. I don’t like the fact that my life is dependant on the fact that some factory worker on the Good-year assembly faked the results of a drug test. Hate em, man.
Hard work. That was for my dad. Sounds like something the old curmudgeon would say huh?
Anyway the first time fear caused me to rise above myself was when I was twelve years old. I was in my bed in the basement ,which is a totally scary room anyway (I once spent an entire evening freaked out and immobile because I thought there was a witch in the room with me. My parents were so far away (two stories up) that a witch could easily roast, flay and eat me with impunity, my shrieks echoing throughout the basement, unheeded by the rest of my family, who were cocooned in their master suite blaring the entire “Die Hard Trilogy”…oh yeah it was a coat rack.
Where was I?
Oh yeah. I was woken at about one by my father opening the door and pressing the cold steel of a butcher knife into my soft pre-pubescent hands. He whispered to me-
“There are Hispanic gangsters outside”
You need to go around the one side, I will go around the other.”
I nodded wordlessly. Our house is a dome. (they were the hotness for a while in 1976 man. Everyone who was awesome lived in a geodesic dome. I never felt weird or anything about it. )
So his plan I guess? He would go around one side, I would sneak around the other side and I guess we would meet and just slash the m-fers to bloody pieces. In retrospect my dad was no General Patton when it came to militairy strategerizing.
I remember that trip vividly. The brush, while in daylight was welcoming albeit a bit scarce, at night turned malevolent and threatening. My pulse quickened at the though of fighting these gangsters who were casing our house for their mis-gotten gains. I crept, a veritable shadow, a night stalker running on hate. I was a panther, a lithe killer. I came around the stairs on the left and, raising my weapon, was prepared for a to the death battle. I was greeted by my dad kinda shaking his head, rubbing his beard.
He said, “I am on this new migraine medicine. Go on back to sleep.”
And you thought the whole donut in milk thing was weird.
Monday, July 14, 2008
yet again...firefox beats stupid safari...whatev...
Ok ok I get it. It is time to write a blog. Geez with all these Latshaws writing blogs you really hope there won’t be a blogjam.
Ouch. You know I told my wife the other day, after like the 35th horrible pun, that I really only use the best ones. I have hundreds going through my head all day, every day. I will take a word, examine it for possible uses and or applications in “funny” areas- funny haha not funny crazy or pervy you know. Although sometimes the twains do meet…speaking of twain, jess I am hoping you are using the quote I gave you, it is fantastic. Mark my words! I can’t stop…
Little about myself..I am 36 which seems unfair. No way I should be that old and I prefer to think about myself as late twenties. The only problem with late twenties is that your kids are younger too. I like when my kids get older. Babies are annoying and so clingy you know…
I am a radical. A radical is born when a liberal gives up. I believe in every conspiracy you got, including the one by David Icke who thinks that the ruling elite are actually giant reptiles. Awesome. You gotta be pretty special to float that idea to the general public and be offended if people do not take you seriously. Go ahead google that guy. I will wait.
Awesome right? Wow. Anyway, I am a radical. And also a Christian. Dare I say radical Christian? That sounds scary! That just means I read Howard Zinn and C.S. Lewis. I don’t believe that Jesus is a gun-toting patriotic Republican. I am actually pretty sure he is against the death penalty (as most people who were unjustly killed using the death penalty are probably anti-death penalty. You know what, even those JUSTLY killed using the death penalty are probably against the death penalty. I would be.)
I am a musician, artist, ball-room dancer, and viscous Madden afficianado. I can be competitive but stopped really being so after I lost the ability to win at anything. I mean anything. Kinda sucks.
I was in a band. For reals. I know what you are thinking…in a band…his poor wife…he sat around and played video games all day…no we were a real band and made real money…more money than we should have….the most we ever made for one show is my annual salary now…anyway toured the world and not like most Americans when I say world I mean places where they have funny colored money. (World Series? World Champions? Come on!)
The whole time I was in a band I also did construction with my father in law rick. Great Rick story….
We were a unique construction crew. Our foreman, Scott, used to stop everyone working to point out a tufted ventricual titmouse, a rare bird. Politically we were left of center and would discuss the days politics….it was right around when Ralph Nader was running for president. Rick had a folded paper in his hand and a sandwich in the other.
“Hmmm this is interesting…”
“Turns out Ralph Nader is the son of Lesbian immigrants!”
That is amazing! Lesbians? Immigrants? I was astonished! This is huge. I spent a whole week telling everyone I met this astonishing news. “I know! I didn’t believe it myself!”
It was early in the day when Rick pulled me aside…”Uh, it was Lebanese immigrants..don’t know where my head was..”
Well I sure did!
Now I am an employment consultant. I work with people with disabilities, which inherently makes me better than you. Naw, jes kidding…
I like to ask questions you can’t answer. I like to make you make hard decisions (hanging upside for full day, or one hour chin-deep in poop) I can’t stand it when you don’t play along. My wife, “Well, neither. Why do you think of this stuff? EW.”
I am curious about you and about human nature. I have two degrees English and history which I say means I can write well about things that no longer exist.
I like cirque de’ soloeil. Disney is the bomb. World, not Land. EAST COAST!
Ouch. You know I told my wife the other day, after like the 35th horrible pun, that I really only use the best ones. I have hundreds going through my head all day, every day. I will take a word, examine it for possible uses and or applications in “funny” areas- funny haha not funny crazy or pervy you know. Although sometimes the twains do meet…speaking of twain, jess I am hoping you are using the quote I gave you, it is fantastic. Mark my words! I can’t stop…
Little about myself..I am 36 which seems unfair. No way I should be that old and I prefer to think about myself as late twenties. The only problem with late twenties is that your kids are younger too. I like when my kids get older. Babies are annoying and so clingy you know…
I am a radical. A radical is born when a liberal gives up. I believe in every conspiracy you got, including the one by David Icke who thinks that the ruling elite are actually giant reptiles. Awesome. You gotta be pretty special to float that idea to the general public and be offended if people do not take you seriously. Go ahead google that guy. I will wait.
Awesome right? Wow. Anyway, I am a radical. And also a Christian. Dare I say radical Christian? That sounds scary! That just means I read Howard Zinn and C.S. Lewis. I don’t believe that Jesus is a gun-toting patriotic Republican. I am actually pretty sure he is against the death penalty (as most people who were unjustly killed using the death penalty are probably anti-death penalty. You know what, even those JUSTLY killed using the death penalty are probably against the death penalty. I would be.)
I am a musician, artist, ball-room dancer, and viscous Madden afficianado. I can be competitive but stopped really being so after I lost the ability to win at anything. I mean anything. Kinda sucks.
I was in a band. For reals. I know what you are thinking…in a band…his poor wife…he sat around and played video games all day…no we were a real band and made real money…more money than we should have….the most we ever made for one show is my annual salary now…anyway toured the world and not like most Americans when I say world I mean places where they have funny colored money. (World Series? World Champions? Come on!)
The whole time I was in a band I also did construction with my father in law rick. Great Rick story….
We were a unique construction crew. Our foreman, Scott, used to stop everyone working to point out a tufted ventricual titmouse, a rare bird. Politically we were left of center and would discuss the days politics….it was right around when Ralph Nader was running for president. Rick had a folded paper in his hand and a sandwich in the other.
“Hmmm this is interesting…”
“Turns out Ralph Nader is the son of Lesbian immigrants!”
That is amazing! Lesbians? Immigrants? I was astonished! This is huge. I spent a whole week telling everyone I met this astonishing news. “I know! I didn’t believe it myself!”
It was early in the day when Rick pulled me aside…”Uh, it was Lebanese immigrants..don’t know where my head was..”
Well I sure did!
Now I am an employment consultant. I work with people with disabilities, which inherently makes me better than you. Naw, jes kidding…
I like to ask questions you can’t answer. I like to make you make hard decisions (hanging upside for full day, or one hour chin-deep in poop) I can’t stand it when you don’t play along. My wife, “Well, neither. Why do you think of this stuff? EW.”
I am curious about you and about human nature. I have two degrees English and history which I say means I can write well about things that no longer exist.
I like cirque de’ soloeil. Disney is the bomb. World, not Land. EAST COAST!
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