Actual Musings...

Ramblings Post #33
In the middle of the night, among mortal men and stout souls, those thoughts that find our minds open and willing are the musings that source from the dark end of the bar. It from there, a great number of the secrets of the life originate. Unfortunately, because like a tree falling in the forest, if nobody sober hears it, is the thought really profound?

The time when I start this is 1:27am EST.

It's Saturday morning, I've spent another night in the house. I'm not sure if I'm punishing myself or what, but although the promoter specifically told me to come, and asked what size sweater I wore so he could get me one, I did not attend Live From New York, a new happening with I think live music and a DJ...or something.

I also didn't go to the Delta's Swagger Party.

For the record, I'm tired of the term "swagger". Every three years we discover a new word or term, and we basically beat it to death. I remember trying to "get my swerve on", or when every other party was "the jump-off" and I'm just wondering when we'll all stop, breathe and try to be original. Is it that I'm old? Or think I'm getting old?

Or is that I realize the best rappers of today couldn't carry Ice Cube, Dana Dane or Biggie's luggage, much less carry on what they perfected.

I didn't go to the thing at Loca Luna, or the Comedy show at Leopard Lounge, or hit the Velvet Room, hell, I didn't even watch the game! Okay, about that, for the last three games, I've only tuned in at the start of the fourth quarter, usually around 11pm. Before that is dancing and shuffling. The networks lucked out on these Conference Finals, with all the last second heroics and tension. Now they can just get LeBron to the finals. They had a game watching party at Utopia...which means the game you could watch free, you can go there and watch....and buy drinks.

A few updates. Classes are classes. The two I'm taking this summer I actually like, and surprise, I seem to be actually learning!

It was short week at work, my name got bandied around for a new position, my defacto boss decided to actually do something project wise and they aren't changing the carpeting until next week, so I didn't have to move all the crap on my desk. Yay me.

Sporty hit me up this week. Then knocked me down. Then kept hitting me up until I felt okay...which is weird. It's like she knew.

I have brunch with Schmoopy tomorrow if I can find a brunch place. Where do people eat brunch in Dunwoody?

I have a spot that hurts, and if it still hurts tomorrow, I'm going to the doctor.

Ah hah! These would be musings! Now all I need is a bar!

I'm reaching a milestone, which much like all my previous milestones will quietly pass into the night as but a flash of signpost, a mysterious bump. But just because it more than likely won't be celebrated, doesn't mean I'm not thinking about the implications. What turning this age means.

Lately, my advice to younger men is to find a good woman...well, find the best woman available under current conditions...and settle down. Get married. I had a few opportunities, been asked but never asked anyone, and out here alone club hopping and party going at this age is starting to, and you can quote me, get old. In fact, my RP has been saying the same thing lately. Really, past 35, you need to seriously start considering it if you haven't.

Last weekend, which should have rated an update - my parents came to town, my pseudo niece graduated high school, my RP and I threw a party, I need to get my brother's rib recipe - but I was too lazy, too off and on. This weekend, other than Schmoopy and the doctor...

...I ain't trying to do much. A little homework. Maybe some house cleaning. Sleep.

It's now 1:54am EST. Ain't that something.

Barkeep. Tall glass of water. I'm thinking about giving up drinking...

Poetry

flux
who am I
the small thoughts of a small mind twisted in the shape of hope incarnate
cast in the mold of dreams that last forever and left open to their fate
Dancing the molten core of pain I feel the blood or time run though my fingertips
and no matter how fast the music plays it never seems to skip

flux
who am i
Smaller than I had presumed in my infantile moments of delusional bliss
and worth far less than the amount of soul I am prepared to risk
self confidence melts like a slushy snowball on hot summer midday
out of place in the very space that is all I have in which to play

flux
who am i
fishing in the deepest water of the brackish pit of the mind's tide
I search for the bit of wisdom I can lift my life to from the inside
catching bits of stars that unfold into twinkling bits of dreams
There is less to the more of me than it seems.

I'm doing it to myself

Ramblings Post #32
What are our triggers? Those things that actually spur us into action as opposed to those things that were supposed to spur us into action. A lot of my personal starters stem from puberty and the usually well suppressed memories and the teenage thinking inflated traumas contained therein. Sometimes it's an innocent comment that cuts to the core, a feeling, sometimes its a scent, but whatever the term, I think I should be in control of them. And I find out more and more, I'm not.



I ate a whole box of Nilla wafers in less than 24 hours.

I don't normally keep snack food in my house for just this reason. It was easy to get a few more, then a few more, then a napkin full and suddenly "where did the rest go?" Oh.

I picked up the box on a whim, because the people ate Wise haven't figured out the person doing the stocking in Atlanta is either an idiot or is hoarding the Crunchy Cheez Doodles for himself. If you double the price and it still sells out, so.... let's load up on a completely different product? (Note: to Wise Foods executive reading this I am a Publix shopper)

So I bought some Nilla wafers. Something haven't eaten in forever. They were so good.

And I ate the whole box.

I already feel big. Okay, check that...I feel fat. And since it's beginning to dawn on me that a sparkling wit and personality really doesn't offset a gut, I need to do something. I still remember that stinging comment I overheard, being described by a someone I met at a party as the "fat guy in the kitchen". I had not thought about that in a long time.

My gym membership is about to go big time.

Barkeep. Water. Large amounts.

Just a little offbeat

Ramblings Post #31
The only thing constant is change. The only think you can be absolutely sure of is that you can absolutely sure of absolutely nothing. Life is funny like that, just when I think things are going good things change...the question is if you can make the change work for the better, or will you have to back up and start over. I've been getting by on wit, charm and good luck so far, I may have to step up soon. I think I've been putting it off too long.

Last weekend I spent out for the first time in a long time, and it felt, well, odd.

Friday was around the proverbial corner at Spanky's house, where she was celebrating the 15th of May. Spanky is spe-shul. In any case she had a nice little crowd and as I understand it, killer margaritas. I didn't have any. The lively conversation was provided by a guy she invited from Facebook. As I said, she's spe-shul. This cat dominated the conversation with tales of old Atlanta, dirty jokes and lewd innuendo, which the two ladies on the far end of the couch ate up. I was surprised to find out later that they were mother and daughter, which brought up a whole new set of lewd innuendo. It was great little drop-in. Even Serve dropped by late which surprised me because I thought Serve and Spanky were on the outs.

And the photos taken that night prove I need to get mine ass back in the gym. Stat. I looked bloated, ghastly even.

The next morning was Habitat for Humanity, which is why I did not partake of the margaritas at Spanky's. There is something about an honest day's work and labor, and I'm thinking about doing that more often.

Saturday night, Spanky scooped me up and we headed up to Buckhead for Old School Saturday. I hadn't been in ages. I know that guys that run it, I was there when it started, and watched it grow up. That said, I enjoy a smaller situation now, something with few enough folks to make an impression, but a few new bodies to keep it lively. I'm not sure what is about the crowd in the ATL, but if Spanky hadn't been with me, I would have turned around. When I saw the crowd that flowed from the entrance...through the lobby... down the stairs.... around two corners and that's where I stopped looking, I was turned off. Spanky seemed determined however to get in: without standing in that line.

In the interest of full disclosure, Spanky is a VIP diva.

So after I got us in...don't ask...it was okay. The crowd was diverse, men in suits, brothers with designs cut into their hair, miniskirts and evening gowns. I know for a while I was trying to figure out when dress military jackets came into style. It was packed, the music brought back memories and it was good. But as I said, I'm a different vibe now. I like to know that folks I hang with....or at least know somebody I know knows them.

Sunday my RP had a lazy Sunday Cards/Playoff game gathering. A few of the gang fell though, spades was played, basketball watched and dominoes were ...um...dominoed. There the single funniest event of the weekend happened. Three chicks roll in on a third hand invitation. No biggie, we're friendly folk so we make them welcome. Eventually two of them ask about the food, I invite them to help themselves and they do. The third girl saunters into the kitchen and asks one of my boys to "make her a plate". These are the first words she says to him. No Hi, no hello, no my name is xyz, or anything, just a command hiding behind a request. She's cute, but both her friends have guys names tattooed on their arms, so I'm certain she has a brand somewhere on her. My boy defers, invites her to help herself. She insists somebody has to put her food on a plate for her. My RP tells her she can eat all she wants. I tell her she's like family now..

And she never eats while she's there.

Her friends enjoy, but although we offer her a fork, empty plate and unfettered access to the food, she decides that if no one will serve her, she's not going to eat. They all leave shortly thereafter. We weren't sorry to see them go.

A little over a year ago, this weekend of a couple of spots and nice quiet Sunday hangout would have been just the thing. But I guess I've adapted to spending my evenings with my nose in a book...dedicated to education. Adaptation is survival. And since I've got a few more years of my evenings consumed with interpretations of the law...adaptation ain't a bad thing.

Barkeep...something summery.

Do we really want Barack the Magic Negro?

This is a political post

My president, and he's my president until he really fucks up and at that point my memory will get fuzzy, is catching some flak over this whole "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy and the dismissal of Lt. Dan Choi, a West Point grad and Iraq War vet. My president is being taken to task because while he indicated campaigning that discharging military personnel on the basis of sexual orientation during wartime was a waste of resources, now that he is in the White House, he's not doing anything about it when implored. When Jon Stewart, who has messed and become an actual news guy, starts in on you, well it can be said you've kind of screwed the pooch. Unless doing that will get you thrown out...I digress.

So why doesn't President Obama take a page from the book of President Harry Truman, who in 1948 simply issued an Executive Order to end military racial segregation, and just take out the old magic presidential pen and make everybody see it our way?

Two things. What is our way? And whose next?

Obama is not Superman.
Image by Alex Ross.

Much like African Americans had to get over the idea that having a black president meant everything changed instantly (it didn't), members of the Gay and Lesbian community need to get the same grip on reality. Everything is gonna take time.

Didn't we just vote out someone who abused the power to simply "decide" what was right? Or was it we voted out somebody who didn't decide the way "we" wanted? Wouldn't that be ironic? To simply to decree by executive fiat, which is what it would be, would be no more right now than it was in 1948. Yes, what Truman did to assist with the desegration of the races was wrong when he did it, even though it was the right thing to do. Why you ask? Because it circumvented the system. And we need the system. That system is pretty damn good.

In 1948 Truman got away with it because nobody expected a repeat. Obama isn't gonna get that luxury.

If President Obama simply signed and executive order tonight ending the "don't ask, don't tell" policy tonight, there would be nine special interest groups knocking on the West Wing doors by 8am tomorrow asking for similar action to correct an "injustice". I pulled the number nine out of my ass, but there would be three hundred by noon and countless more by dinner time. The pundits, talking TV heads and special interest groups would start a whole new round of vilification to get the president to magically fix something else. Rush Limbaugh's favorite song "Barack, the Magic Negro" would come to life.

And what happens when he makes a "decision" that "we" don't like? Or backfires? And who is we? I'm certain the Republicans that they were "we" when Dubya was making his "decisions" and they were doing "what was right", damn the system. And as we just witnessed, circumventing "the system" tends to mess things up. See example Wall Street, war on Terror, etc.

Man that's a lotta quotes.

In the military they instruct you to obey orders, and in this case they were not obeyed. That's a scary concept right there. Lt. Dan Choi knew the rule and broke it. Not because it was an illegal order, but because he did not agree with it. And that's not an excuse. And like all martyrs before him (not mention soldiers who failed to follow regulations), he will have to die on his metaphorical sword - in this case, before justice prevails. He has my sympathies.

In our age of instant everything, the idea of ongoing struggle seems to perplex us.

Let's do a little exercise. (The phrase "Yapple Dapple" comes from a cartoon I'm too lazy to explain, but it's used as a genie's magic phrase that makes things just poof into existence.) So...I personally don't agree with the "Don't ask, Don't tell" rule, and yes, I think it an ignorant bigoted waste of resources. So we should change that rule. Yapple Dapple. And I believe that men shouldn't be forced to pay child support for children who are not theirs. So that should be changed too. Yapple Dapple. I believe a credit card company shouldn't be able to raise your interest rates without cause. So he can just wave the wand and get that one as well. Yapple Damn Dapple. You know I also believe that the national speed limit should be as fast as your car can go. So we should change that rule too. Yapple Dapple. I don't like mean people and chicks who I like but who don't want to go out with me, so we need to...

...you see where this is going. If we move the line, especially in this day and age, we have to ask where do we move it too? And who gets to make that decision? The system of checks and balances goes out the window. And there are number of people who would be happy with that...until he makes a decision they don't like. Then they'll want his head.

Which is why the President has decided not to touch the this whole issue. And that's kind of why we elected him.

Day One

Ramblings Post # 30
With the change of the seasons, new performances open while other shows prepare to close their doors, hopefully with good reviews and no need to re-stage a production. We hope. They say that all of life is but a stage, and we as players come to strut our hour upon the stage only to heard from no more. And quite frankly think they are all sot. I'm playing my part, then sneaking back into the chorus.

My new law professor for the summer promises to be...well, and event unto itself. He is Bernie Mac doing a Southern Methodist preacher with touches of Col. Stabler in a court room full of scared students. The first two I'm fairly certain you can imagine...the last one I'll have to explain.

In High School back in ....that place I came from...we had a science professor who was retired military. Which war? I dunno, but I shudder to think of those who had to face him. He was this old white guy, in his mid to late sixties, with a crew cut and the same glasses they gave him the day he showed up for basic training. But he knew his stuff. And he wouldn't let you not know yours. He literally terrified you into learning.

That is my new law professor for Sales Law.

The class isn't that populated, and as fate would have it my seat on the seating chart is directly in front of the podium. We only had the one class and he already knows my name. Well. He called on it enough.

Let's just say this: You better have read the cases, understood the basics of them and be ready to give and answer you know.

Prof: "What section of the code controls here, Mr. (Terrified Student)?"

Student: "Well, I think..."

Prof: "You think? What do you mean you think? Which section controls here?"

Student: "Er, I..."

...and later on...

Prof: "What does the Statute of Frauds mean?"

Student 1: "Well, in transactions involving more than $500..."

Prof: "Who was your Contracts professor?"

Student 1: "Um, (Name of my contracts professor)."

Prof: "Oh, you had him? Well you know a simpler definition. He gave you one, I know because he doesn't know any big words."

Student 1 "It is a stipulation of law that"

Prof: "Are you kidding? I want the essence. Boil it down"

Student 1 "Er..."

Prof: "Mr.....(Another Terrified Student)

Student 2: (meekly) "Um...write stuff down?"

Prof: "Exactly. That a terms of a contract have to be written down. Or... do they?"

You see where this is going. I mean, this is DAY ONE. There are only four (2 guys, 2 girsl) of us as far as I can tell from the first year group, so I'm a little stunned that some of the older students weren't expecting this. As a professor he pulled answers like teeth with pliers and no anesthetic working his way around the room, calling on every single student. Those whose names he could remember he called frequently. And as I said, he figured out my name right quick.

Sure he was funny, cracking the occasional joke and intoning the concepts of law like verses of the bible. I kept half expecting him to start mentioning the building fund and the first offering. And more than once he let someone make three bad assumptions before showing them their error, asking questions and letting people give wrong answer then compounding their errors with more incorrectness.

He promises to be interesting. Once I get up enough courage to actually raise my hand to say something.

Barkeep. Whiskey. Leave the Bottle.