Watching Obama

This is a Political Post
Here we are on the verge of the possiblity of change. Whether or not it will happen is still be seen, but in an age where fractional concepts are rife within both parties, what was will no longer be. In any case, on some level. We live in interesting times. It's about to get bumpy. Bumpier.

I watched "the speech" tonight. I'm going to call it that because that's how we looked upon it going in with hope, or if you're a Republican...disdain. Either way it was significant.

You know, In the right light, he even looks presidential.

He had a lot riding on this. If he delivered will only be decided in the future. Now the pundits and talking heads will soon gather and start telling you what you saw and why this was important or that was a stumble, but then this isn't football and most of us don't need that pale imitation of a John Madden in a bad suit quoting talking points explaining to us where the seam is in the allegorical political defense. But the economy is kinda bad and every job counts, so tune in and feel free to go walk the dog or get the laundry started or something.

Now in my opinion (heck, I may as well be the first pundit, it doesn't look that hard...) the man on stage at Invesco field in front of the diorama that did NOT resemble (to me) a Greek temple or the Lincoln memorial, came out like the Chicago politician you knew was hiding under all that smooth. He was still the poise and cool, but he came out swinging using a great deal of that informal masters degree you get from an Illinois political education.

He hit the notes he needed to hit.
- He defined what he means by change.
- He invoked personal responsibility, typically the tool of his opponents.
- He defined what his policies will be if elected.
- He gave arguments against the personal attacks - celebrity and experience.
- He went after his opponent. Straight up Chicago style.

At the end he turned into a preacher- an old country baptist preacher. The cadence in his voice rising as though it were testifying, then his final tones, like so many on the pulpit from my days of youth, his voice falling to almost conversational tones, so you had to pay attention. It's an old trick, but it worked.

Then like a new age Cosby family, his wife and kids joined him on stage completing the picture. For a hot second I wondered where Theo was.

We listened. We've heard him, without the filter of news reporter or pundit. Now, how you feel is how you feel. We wait for the other guy and see what he's got to say, and go from there.

And that's what America is all about. Win. Lose. Or Draw.

Odd Quotes

"But Yogi, the Ranger isn't gonna like it."
- Brooksham "Boo Boo" Holyoake Bear III

I don't want to win the lottery

A Mental Rehab Post #19
There are thoughts which are connected to other thoughts like we're all six degrees from Kevin Bacon. They don't look like at first, but this matches up to that, and to that, which looks at this and bam, here were are. Strange isn't it?

I really don't want to win the lottery. I occasionally buy a lottery ticket when the prize gets high enough (now that's gall, like $15-20 million just wouldn't be enough) but in reality winning the lottery right now would more than likely be a bad thing. And not why you think.

Now I've read the articles where the people who win end up broke or destitute in few years and I look upon them with wonder. I mean complete and honest freaking wonder. I'd like to believe that if you handed me $30 million cash I'd have a hard time spending it all. Once you get past the initial purchases, exactly what do they spend the money on? House, nice car or two, pay off a bunch of bills, trip or two, and then what? Maybe it's just me.

Don't get me wrong, I know I'm speaking from a lack of experience, but then I have a fairly elaborate plan dealing with lottery winnings which involves trusts, annuities, Brazilian doctors, places where the girls don't speak English, this book I read ten years ago and eventually the phrase "diplomatic immunity." It's a little involved. You hear about these folks and it's like they really thought the money would last forever. It would if you continued to live like you did before you won, but everybody goes and buys everything they ever dreamed about. And then loan all their friends money. And invest in every fly by night idea that comes along. And then wonder why they're broke.

Let me put everybody on notice right now. My family will spread a few bucks around, but the list of hookup folks is maybe five people long and all together non-family gifts won't equal a half million bucks. Ask if you want to, but nobody else sees a dime.

But the real reason I don't want to win the lottery right now is that I already have serious doubts about if the women in life really feel about me. I mean I'm currently suspicious of why women actually like me and I'm relatively broke. I'm guessing a few million errant dollars would only cloud the issue. Hell, I'm guessing a few thousand dollars might cloud the issue. At heart, I am a hopeless romantic. I know that I'll never live in a shack on the beach with a woman who loves me, living off coconut rum and good times. But it would be nice to know that if it came to that, that she'd stay with me. Because she loves me. Really loves me.

The aforementioned Sporty Affair clouds, fogs in and hails the issue.

Everybody wants to be loved. Me included.

Barkeep....two shots of clarity, and not the well brand.

A Weekend IN - Stage whatever

Mental Rehab Post #18
There are certain things that are inevitable. Death, taxes and rejection come to mind, but then there are those things that are expected, that you prepare for and yet when they arrive just as you figured, you're still stunned and surprised. This weekend was one of those moments. And all you can do is chalk it up to a loss and keep it moving.

Friday. Well Friday was supposed to be a study night. Get my stuff together, get my mind together and start really studying for this law school thing. Work on my Research project, read through the case work, maybe even get started on the library assignment. I was actually gonna start acting like a real student. Then I got home.

There is nothing quite like walking into your house, and it not feeling like your house anymore. I've lived here a little over a year and other than the first month where someone tried to steal my car had no problems. I'd been lulled into a false sense of security. Friday showed me just how full of shit I was.

Total cash losses are retail maybe $500-$600 bucks. Repair bill and security upgrades maybe another $500 initially and a $1000 later on. Total comfortable level lost is quite possibly priceless. There is a distinct feeling of helplessness, anger and frustration. The police are nonchalant, as I find out unless you catch them in the act, your priority is way down the list.

So I spend Friday night with a window broken, all the lights on and don't go to sleep until 6:30am. There is little studying done.

Saturday is spent waiting. Waiting for the AT&T dude who actually shows up at 9am. So I'm back on line. Then it's cleaning up house and waiting for the window guy and my new alarm guy. Who don't show up until 3 or 4pm. I spend the day trying to figure how much this is going to cost me, lamenting that I'm not gonna get to kickoff my studying the right way and so I'm half watching football - half studying.

They arrive and fix most of the damage and we talk about getting the upgrades and the fixing other stuff and nobody talks money. Which is both comforting and disturbing. Comforting because I know it's all gonna get done, and disturbing because I'm not gonna be able to say anything about how much anything costs when it's all done. I say all done because they'll be back today to finish up.

That night I force myself to go and get a hamburger. It's like I'd staked out the house as a my fort, and since I will eventually have to leave for some reason, sooner is better than later. Get it over with. I cruise up to Five Guys, get my burger and ride back. Nothing happens while I'm gone.

Later, as it's 2am or so and I'm bored and I'd gone through the usual Neatorama, Fark, and Pixdaus as infinitum so I get stupid and join Facebook. Which I'm gonna be honest looks pretty sad. I'm not really seeing what the big deal is. I make a few friend requests and because I'm curious (and not an internet stalker) because she IS still my "friend", I look and damned if Sporty isn't on there. With a picture of him. And I'm stupid for even looking. So it's stress AND nightmares on Saturday. Woooo.

Sunday is laundry day and still cleaning up. And homework, which I work on sporadically. I realize I'm maybe kinda getting depressed. This for the uninitiated is one of the downsides of living alone, there is no one there to either prop you up or fake it for. One of the symptoms of depression is tiredness and I took two naps during the day so I'm either depressed or the stress is catching up with me. Not good. Study and nap. Study and nap.

I'm so paranoid that when I go to the grocery store I take my laptop and digital camera. This is not good either.

I've done the reading for homework but am gonna leave the projects for after class on Monday. I'll pay for it later but I can't concentrate right this second.

Barkeep...that Maker's I been drinking all weekend and the shotgun under the counter please.

So I got robbed

Vent post #4
This was less traumatic than I thought it would be, but more of a expected that I guess was inevitable. This is real life. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. And real life isn't always pretty.

So sometime between yesterday and today, I got my virginity taken. No, not that virginity, I lost that two or three weeks ago. My other virginity. No, not that one either. Dirty minded sons of... My home burglary virginity.

Broken window. Alarm destroyed. Missing stuff.

They just finished getting my internet back up and running and I'm waiting on the window and the alarm guy now. Then maybe I'll eat something. Has it been that long?

For the record, you don't realize the difference until you actually go back to the CRT monitor. It's really rather noticeable.

Barkeep...they didn't take the Whiskey? Yeah!

A couple of errant thoughts

Mental Rehab Post #17
This one is kinda stream of consciousness talking half to myself and half to nobody in particular, and I'm hardest on myself. As we all know hindsight is 20/20, it's always what I should have done, what I should have said, what I meant to do. And it never changes. I've been looking for a long time and it hasn't yet.

I wonder how long will it be..

How long before my soul won't be able to recover from the many wounds I've inflicted upon it?
How long before my mind is unable to cope with stress of yet another unrequited love?
How long before my heart just stops...

I look into the mirror and see lonely. I see that special kind of lonely that happens in a crowded room, surrounded by attentive listeners. A lonely that comes when you reach out for a real connection and find nothing, only a collection of empty comments and commercialized dreams. It's tragic and funny, as the you die in a room full of people watching as you pretend not to go, as the whole world pretends it didn't happen because it would mess up their plans. Moment by moment all your hopes and dreams slip away and on the other side of then it will be as though you never existed, that it all has been a fever dream.

I want to cry, but nobody likes a sad clown. And it feels like nobody would care.

Will I be able to put it on again? To hide the me hoping for a real connection and become that character I created to get me through all those lonely hours. Will I be able to make it believable again? It was hard to play before and will be harder now that I've seen the alternative.

I argue with myself, as to why I've stayed silent, why I can't voice what I feel and lay my cards on the table like a grown up. I want to say I've taken the noble way, to spare anyone else ill feelings or disagreeable moments, but the reality it's the cowards turn in hopes that the emotional doomsday ending on the horizon will leave me with something to start over with. A shred of hope that I can imagine into something I can live with while I pretend my reality isn't going to be what it is.

And maybe God has something else for me. But I doubt it.