Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Some days you're the bird and some days you're the statue. I don't know how I had never heard this little nugget of golden genius before today but I'm happy to say that It'll be sticking around for a while. Unfortunately my mind has a way of losing track of so many details. There's plenty of smart people in the world and there's plenty of different types of smart but I think most of them can be categorized in one of two ways. Either you're an archiver or you're a creator. Some lucky souls are both, (and one day my sister will find out that I hated her for getting to be one).

I was lucky enough to find myself under a roof with one of each. My father is the ultimate archiver. I recognized his talents early in life. His ability to store so much in his head and recall it all so easily with a just a slight squint of the eyes. Sure I was an early one to use and understand the words and the emotions but no matter how hard I tried I could never match up the the brain I started referring to as the mosh pit of knowledge. To me that image made so much sense. For me it was all up there in a big jumble mashing up against one another. But in reality I think his was much more like an beautifully organized filing cabinet.

My mother always seemed to be a step behind the mosh pit. But there were these little moments of brilliance. When everything came together in a new way that none of us had though of before. I learned that there was something to be said for constantly forgetting and re-learning so much of life. Instead of becoming grounded and paralyzed by what they've seen, these people keep plotting new courses, changing directions, and shifting their aim to hit new targets every day. I tried to hard to be an archiver but eventually I gave in. I'll create. I'll forget. I'll make things up. I'll imagine. And I'll surround myself with a couple archivers just for good measure. Hopefully at least one of us will always be the bird. Otherwise I'll just have someone around to clean things up.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Sure I was a little disappointed at the end of last weeks Heroes to find out that Peter Petrelli's was that he could use other people's powers when he's around. It's so been-there-done-that. I had really hoped that the Petrelli brothers would both be able to fly and maybe even to do other things but only when they were with each other. Two brothers, so different in their personalities and goals and dreams but only able to accomplish the incredible when they're together. Too bad they don't let me write this stuff. All in good time on that one...

I have managed to find solace in Hiro and his friends. One without the other wouldn't be enough, but the pair is so funny but so warming and so perfect. Yes all of it is corny and stupid and straight out of the comic book can but that's part of where the love comes from too. I'll put up with the blatant product placement (And it works or so my new Nissan Versa tells me) So what have we got?
A cop who reads minds
A nearly invincible cheerleader
A Flying Congressional Candidate
A Jeckyl and Hyde stripper
A Time/space bending computer geek
A Man who paints the future (while on heroine)
A congressman's brother who can take on any power
A Lost son learning about his father
A bunch of possible bad guys (is the black dude Syler or what? I say no)

It's funny that NBC just announced it wants to axe more dramas like this one to air more crap. Especially when they are finally hooking me in. Does no one else see the irony of watching NBC do the exact opposite of Studio 60 fake network is trying to avoid? Does anyone else see the irony of Studio Sixty falling right after Heroes? Any smart investor knows that a quick fix like this one will prop up NBC for a little while, while someone saws the legs off beneath it. Just ask the guy who made a couple G's standing behind Google while other people laughed at 500. Oh right, that was me. Now if only I could fly.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Every body's heart has a certain number beats in it. Doesn't surprise many people. It makes so much sense to a time when people wear clocks on their wrists and measure all things in point-A-to-point-B. But what always amazes me is how unwilling people are to imagine that every heart has a certain amount that it's gonna take to fill it up.

Start to finish makes sense to everyone. We sit at home and have some weird grasp that each second ticks away and doesn't come back. But all that while so many people don't want to admit that there's a whole big chamber in their heart that's never been full. They never take the hint. That empty might not mean there's something wrong. That empty just means there's something more.

There's more. I'll keep looking for it. You'll keep coming here. I'll send a little beacon out past where I know. Past where I know but off to someplace I'm sure is there. Probably the same place these words go every time I hit that little orange button. Maybe they just slip through the cracks. But there's only so many ticks. I'm willing to take that chance.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

I got your round up right here

God I love the oh so convenient bullet point form. I try to live my life via bullet points.

* Every man should go to the bars in his nicest suit at least once. Words can not express the fun that can be had. It help if you dance. It helps if you do not run your jacket between your legs and then throw it across the bar like a stripper into a pitcher of beer. It also helps not to rip your pants on a chair.

* Johnny is the new tailor I met yesterday. He's very professional in his work and was very careful with my package during the intense measuring/pinning process.

* Everyone knows what a bad pair of socks feels like but no one talks about it. I hope to start sock awareness month in November. No more seems ending in those little sewn up balls that get beside or under your feet and make life a lot less fun. A good sock is in the seem, elastic be damned.

* I don't know how this turned into a week of clothing but it did and I'm going to accept it.

*Google. Cha-ching. Enough said.

*Dear Kansas, I stole something from you this week. Her name is Libby. I don't think she will be coming back for a while. I apologize to the governor, the president of KU, and all the boys down on frat row.

*In addition to sock awareness, I will also be going 100% electric for the month of November.

*Everyone mocked me a year and a half ago when I would watch Battlestar Galactica on Fridays before I hit the watering holes and now everyone is on the wagon, calling and asking me to catch them up on an inexplicable "2.5" seasons. Yeah, she was in his head but now she's real and the baby's alive but they don't know and there's the planet with the people but some are fakes and only a few are cylons and no I don't know why they can't make different ones and yes it's like warp speed only faster, he didn't used to be so fat and how do you lose earth anyways, oh forget it.

*Heroes, so ups. Hiro, so quadruple ups.

*Halloween plans are zero at the moment. How does this stuff work after college?

*Holidays are so close. In case you're wondering, Channukah Harry, I would like a $15000 track-ready motorcycle (could you please drill out all the bolts for me?), with a rack for the $900 board (the $$$ is in the rubber) and of course don't forget a place for my $who knows Crash strat on the back.

*seamless socks. Sell google and lets go into business. Like candy from very well dressed babies

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

All I can tell you is left and something small and red. Or maybe not left. Maybe L. Or maybe not even L. Could be something with and L shape. Definitely there's a 90 degree angle in there somehow. And the small red thing. It's like a cherry tomato. I don't think it's a cherry tomato. But it could be. I can't think of what else it is. There's the left, or the L or the 90 degree angle thing plus small red orb resembling or being a cherry tomato and I think I did see the number 3.

What is all this? Well it's not a dream. But it's not something real. It's like a feeling but a lot less assertive. Feelings are like compasses, unless you're retarded or the poles are reversing it's pretty easy to see what they're saying. This is more like a deja vu. Deja vu because it's so been there, done that. So , oh yes, that makes perfect sense. Left, or L or 90 degrees and red cherry tomato like object and 3 of something.

It sounds so cheesy to say it's some kind of vision but I like that a lot more than pretending it's random neurons firing. If L tomato 3 could be a lottery ticket I'd buy one. I really wish this was a joke. I guess the truth blog has to be true at least once a year.

**Note: disappointingly no drugs were taken either at the time of the Left, L 90 degree, cherry tomato red orbidity, 3 sighting/hallucination nor were they used in the creation of this post.

****UPDATE!!: To finish this post I decided to type "Left Cherry Tomato Thing Three into Google Image search and just use Whatever first came up. Only one image appeared. It was the logo of Fitzgerald's Catering. I don't know why but I was inspired to follow this twist of fate and where it would lead. Maybe my future is at stake. Turns out Fitzgerald's is a family company run out of a city called Bridgeport, CT. Funny thing is, in my life I've only been to one town in Connecticut. Of course it was Bridgeport. And why? Well lets just say it's about two thousand miles away from here. God I hope you are on the level with me. If you are I'm sure you'll agree that I am badly in need of sleep.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Every morning before my feet hit the floor

There's a whole little world that lives in those few moments when my eyelids slide open just before the alarm sounds. It simmers while my fingers feel for the snooze button and swing back to rub the eyes that have to remember how to focus all over again. It lingers just briefly as the little rods and cones calibrate themselves to the eggshell white on the ceiling above my bed. And just like that it's done before I've even started.

I can't tell exactly but I'm pretty sure that the head and the heart have it out in this tiny place. And every day for the last who knows the heart has been scrapping like he's juiced on something. Off he sends me on the day, all charged up with the strangest things, full of expectations but completely devoid of explanations.

Isn't it fitting that those same moments are the ones that bring me back to you everyday? The very same ones that bring my totally submissive brain back to her every night. Maybe it's not just the rods and cones looking to zero themselves. Maybe it's the whole package.

HEART: This is no emotion. This is the redline. Looks like today's setting will be somewhere around 65.

BRAIN: what do you say we bump it down to 55?


BRAIN: 65 it is. Cue the feet.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Things are stewing. In the meantime, Heroes was almost a wash but the last two minutes kinda blew my mind. What a brilliant way to tell you everything but ruin nothing. The last few days have been all about trying to do the same thing with the people in my life. They get shotgun. Just chill in the backseat for a while. Lay down. Stretch out. Enjoy the whisper of the wheels.