So, this morning...

Ramblings Post #417
There is a tendency of mine to revisit myself. To look back at my life to understand why I did what I did and how to either repeat or avoid that past outcome. This self reflection is probably something I need to do less of, as I know I am an overthinker, letting my mind wander down paths of possibilities less likely than chocolate covered BBQ chicken wings. But still...  

I spent a few hours this morning thinking I was no more. 

Let me explain. Earlier this week I read a piece of short horror fiction - it was on social media platform, maybe a thousand words or so. It chronicled a woman who doomscrolling one night found her own house listed for sale. And in trying to figure out if someone had stolen her deed, she realized that she had been unalived but that she was still just going through the motions of life. It was kind of haunting, a lil' different but nothing big. Or so I thought.  

So last night, around 4am or so I awoke with start, convinced that something had happened. That first awakening may have been part of the dream...it's complicated. In any case, I thought that the reaper had come. I had that moment in my chest where I think I'm falling, or someone is pulling me and I'm decidedly not ready to go anywhere. Left side of the bed oblivion awaits. I saw like a floating screen of my "final score" with name, points, total asset value (which was kinda low in retrospect) as though you get a sort of a closeout grade to compare with folks you'll see on the Otherside. Maybe. At some point I'm stumbling around and went to the bathroom and just kinda had to think about some stuff. Standing up, so at that I am more than fairly certain I was awake. And then I went and laid down again, curled up in my comforter not entirely certain of my status. Had I? How would I know? It's one of those things that happens when you live alone too long I guess. 

I checked my phone. 

Looking back I get that it didn't exactly help that lady in the story, but I guess that's where we are now. But who do you call at 4am with a non-emergency emergency? Who would understand, especially since nobody is familiar with the original story I probably shouldn't have actually read as a proper context for evaluation? Lying there in the dark a little afraid to do anything was not cool. 

I'm of the age where things just...happen. You get a notification of this person or that person is no longer with us and it just so sudden. And the stress of our current situation as a country, plus my current situation as a person, has me stressed in ways that aren't conducive to someone trying to get ready to run an ultra marathon or prepare for the Olympics. Neither of those categories includes me by the way, but if it ain't good for them, it surely isn't good for me either. I've been slacking on my working out - I had been pretty diligent - as other things in life keep creeping up and let's just say my focus has been split. I just did my personal fit check and found myself...lacking. I started on tightening up some things, but had I been too late? Then my morning alarm went off, which currently is radio, which my imagination started interpreting as "signs from the universe," as I found all kinds of secret messages meant only for me in every song lyric. 

This morning, at 5am, I lay in bed, unable to sleep, holding my phone wondering if I was a character in a horror story. 

I just need the next chapter in my life to start already. Damn. 

Barkeep. You have any of that "mushroom coffee" jazz?     

Once again...Last year.

Last year I described 2024 as the experience of waking up buck naked in the middle of the night in a cornfield. 

This year? Oh how I wish for that cornfield again. That was a nice cornfield. Good ears of corn too.  

Last year I watched as this country was ...reduced? Self-owned? Marginalized? Defenestrated? I need a word that captures so many things and I'm not sure that it even exists. So much happened outside of me that made me feel that my situation was trivial. Even when it wasn't. Things were not good. And last year I realized that I would have to take a leap into the darkness and just see where I land. But in what may have been some of the worst possible timing, as the ground appears to have moved the very moment my feet left it. Which, if you understand me, makes the landing part very difficult. 

But my peoples. 

For the record, I don't like to bother people. This I mean on a personal level, not professional. It's become sort of a personal flaw, to be completely honest. I have to force myself to be social. To call. To check in. To see how others are doing and being - because I really have an issue with being a bother. They're busy, they have lives and I'm just...well, me. Part of it is just being an introvert naturally, some of it learned de-socialization after I spent thirty years purposely making myself social, and lately coupled with a bit of personal shame at my current situation, it's been a real homebody just sitting around kinda season. I'm going to creatively say it was a low-key a "retreat" of sorts. Except my running partner keeps checking on me. And my cousin. And people I didn't expect to get to share company with showed back up. That last one is almost too good to be true, for a number of reasons. I need to get out more because I apparently have friends. It may have all been real. 

That need of a firm piece earth to land? Instead of just figuring it out alone...well, we'll see. 

Let's see what the year brings.  

Bird Day

Ramblings Post #415
I need a little gravy on mine. I just do. Don't ask why. It's good on the chicken, the pork-chops and the steak. Don't know why, but it is. It's a sad commentary on how I let my taste buds hijack my diet. Sad, but delicious. 

Apparently this week's assignment is the gas up the Cowboy Nation after beating Philly, with commentator after commentator suddenly seeing how the 'boys can beat Kansas City on Thursday. I am a die hard fan, as my mother puts it you would think the team pays me, but let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Dallas has one of the worst stretches of scheduling in the game, with Monday Night game, a Sunday game and Thursday game for three games in less than fourteen days. They've won two, and now are expecting to pull off the upset in the third? 

Um, look, my blood pressure is high enough. Its looking like Jerry might have actually known what he was doing at the trade table after all, but pulled the trigger a little too late to make it work this season. Maybe. The new look D-Line might be able to put pressure on Mahomes, and he's suspect under pressure. No matter, I will have high hopes for next season. 

But this post is about Bird Day. The last under-commericalized holiday we have. I memories of my childhood and trips to the country to see my peoples. A typical Thanksgiving spread would have included at least 3 turkeys (fried, smoked, baked), ham, chicken(fried, baked, grilled), ribs, pork chops, pulled pork, sausage, chitterlings, venison, stewed beef and various gravies. Sometimes we'd get exotic, with bear or snake, but not often. Then came the mac and cheese, yellow rice, white rice, stuffing, mashed potatoes, potato salad, and a small meatloaf (which I never ate), sometimes there is a baked ziti. Then the sides with green beans, lima beans, black eyed peas, green peas, corn, collard greens, okra along rolls, biscuits, cornbread and just regular bread. Desserts - cakes and pies, were in a whole other room. There was more, but this is what I remember. 

Grace was around two and you ate, napped, watched football, hung out with family, ate some more and that was the whole day. Neighbors and other people we knew dropped in, caught up, hung out, told stories and left toting a tin foil covered plate. 

We're not there anymore. Those loving aunts and uncles are cooking on high at this point, family has spread too far and away, finances are what they are, but the memories are a powerful thing. 

Blessings be to you and yours. May the food be good, but the company better.   

It's in a box somewhere in here

Ramblings Post #416
There is a tendency of mine to revisit myself. To look back at my life to understand why I did what I did and how to either repeat or avoid that past outcome. This self reflection is probably something I need to do less of, as I'm fairly certain that I'm not gonna be five years old again any time soon, and that guy who owns that ice cream truck is more than likely retired, so my rehashing my selection like it's gonna happen again or make a major difference is moot. But still...  

Many years ago I sketched the outline for a comic book, among other things. The idea came to me in a flash - as many of my ideas do - and built upon it, concept on top of concept for months if not weeks. It was weird, anthropomorphic, based on popular college mascots at the time. That and some animals in logos of popular brands. Think of the characters from Zootopia, but less colorful or spunky or really animal like, and in a world of espionage and intrigue more like James Bond or Mission Impossible. I'd worked out a whole world, inflection points in the the history, and sketched out the story through 30 or so issues, including arcs. At one point I even tried sketching out the pages, trying my best to bring this vision in my head to life. It wasn't good. 

I wonder if I had persisted how well I'd be able to draw at this point? Hmmmm.  

In any case, I'd occasionally refine the story, creating more characters, deepening backstories and motivations, made drawings of maps of the whole planet, then smaller detailed maps of the capital cities of the various animal based factions complete with legends and then diagrams of secret bases. It's all in a folder somewhere in my house. Well, the story outlines at least, possibly the maps to now that I think about it. I need to look for it and see what I did. 

Or is this an excuse to delay my other projects instead of finishing them.  

Confidence in my own ability. That's always been my problem, second guessing myself when in those cases I proceed, I succeed. Because over time I get better. Like most of us do. Which is why I've always suggested that we should just start and understand that we will be...not good. But we will get better. 

At least, I've always suggested that to other people.  

Barkeep. The GOOD water. 

Art Lives within us All

Ramblings Post #415
Art is a thing. I know when we imagined AI's arrival, we imagined that it would take away all the drudgery and accounting jobs, not the creation of Art, our that vision in our heads made public. I've seen too many people giddy with the anticipation of "creation," as if creation is now putting five sentences into a AI engine and hitting refresh until it spits out something they like. Where is the voice? The vision? The soul? It's something, no doubt but it's not really Art. It's just...content. If you know what I mean. 

Crown of the Feast by Izere Antoine 

Good art soothes. You can see the lines, the intent, and hopefully it says something to you. I've been out for a minute, but good Art, be it written, musical, or the product of paint or pen does something to you. It should. It should tell you that you're alive. 
 

Who is you?

Who are you? 

Or rather, who am I...to me? We know the question of how we are seen by others is one rife with the idea of multiple right answers, as how you're seen depends on where you are in your life, your relationship to the observer and a half dozen other factors. You're not the same person to your life mate as you are to your old college roommate. One of them has to hide the sweets and the other is projecting from a version of you that they haven't seen in more than twenty years. No, the real question is who are you to yourself? Not the bathroom mirror you who can sing or the kitchen you whose recipes are word for word back of the box perfect, but the real you. And more importantly, who is that person...to you? 

It said you'll only going to spend your whole life with one person...YOURSELF. (Yes, very cliche.) So it is suggested that you learn to like that person. Or at least figure out how to get along. Because that person, yourself, is going to be the person who supports you, who makes sure that you get what you need, that hopefully loves you. So it's important that you know who that person really is. And not the version you show the job, or the version you show social media, or your mate, or friends. The real you. Who are they? 

That's where it gets tricky. Because part of knowing who you are to yourself is taking the time in the quiet to listen to yourself and hear what you have to say to you. In an honest and forthright fashion because lying to yourself is a special kind of silly. Tell yourself the unvarnished truth, and what hopefully will happen is you'll discover why you are. Yes, this sounds like therapy doesn't it. But, once you know the why of you, then you can start the process of becoming the intentional you and not a you that is just the product of your experiences. 

The rough part is that some of us know what we're going to say to ourselves and we're pretty sure we're not going to like it. Where we have to admit things to ourselves and deal with it. The ugly side. The unpleasant things. Our personal truths that we see as flawed. They may or may not be but we see them this way. This by the way is why far too many of us NEED our distractions - music, television, trips, going out, anything for something to do. Just like we avoid difficult conversations with other people instead of sitting with ourselves and listening we turn on some music or clean the house. For the third time this week. No, it's not that damn dusty. You just don't want to have that conversation.

Every year I implore people to do something, anything, but just be active because life is too short. This year I'm asking you sit down, with no music or television, no distractions and just listen to your own thoughts. Discover who you are. Listen to you. And try to understand who you really are, on your own terms, away from career and family, away from outside expectations and other influences. In an effort that I hope will set you on the path to becoming a very intentional version of yourself. Whatever that means to you (see what I did there?). Because life is too short to not understand who you are, to like who you are, to love who you are. 

So, who are you?