A few months ago (5, to be exact), I applied for and was approved for a new credit card. About a week later, I got a letter from the company saying that the balance transfer I had requested for the new card had gone through (yea for 0% BT rates!) and that I would be receving my new card shortly.
Shortly turned into a few days and then over a week. When it was three days past the "If you don't receive your new card by blah-and-blah" date, I gave them a call. They were very nice about it and I had no hassles getting a new card issued. The old account number was closed, a new one was opened, and the new card showed up promptly. Everything was fine. Fast-forward to yesterday. I checked my old records (because I keep *everything* finance related) and sure enough, it matched.
Yes folks, the lost credit card with the original account number showed up in my mailbox yesterday.
While perusing one of my favorite webcomics, Real Life (link on right), I came across the authors recommendation of an open-source game that was too interesting to resist. This game, Armagetron, is a Light Cycle game, based off the old movie, Tron.
Tron has been one of my all-time favorite movies since I was a little kid. The computer world where the arcade games are played gladiatorial-style with appropriated computer programs as the players was just fantastic. Still is, in my opinion. But back to the game. The game does the movie great justice. It is extremely fun, addictive, and visually beautiful. You actually feel like you are on the real game grid driving your bike, avoiding other bike's walls while trying to get the other bikes to hit yours. It is hugely customizable. You can choose from a grid that is about 25x25 feet (impossible to actually play in but a hell of a lot of fun to laugh at as everyone in the game crashes within .1 seconds) up to a grid that seems just about infinite, although there really is a wall out there somewhere. Also allowed are up to 22 AI players, and a great multi-player support for up to 4 players on one machine, or a lot more players using a LAN or internet connection. Also, the computer names AI players after well-known computer programs, mimicking the movie. You don't know how satisfying it is to make Windows, Mac, Linux, Notepad, Photoshop, Word, etc... all crash into your wall. :)
Download the game here. It's free, and more fun than you can imagine. My girlfriend, who isn't even into sci-fi that much (give her time), really seems to like the game. Oh, and make sure you download the two moviepacks in the Add-Ons section of the site (you can find the 2nd one linked to under the screenshots on that page). They make the game look exactly like the scenes from the movie.
Check this short film out for an interesting time. It's been hailed as one of the best "fan films" yet made, and many big names in the comics industry like Alex Ross are saying it's the best visualization and characterization of Batman on film yet.
Just remember, though, there is a twist to this thing that will make your jaw drop open and go "Huh?!"
My computer crashed while I was finishing up a post that I've been working on since 11:00 or so and Blogger ate the posted-but-unpublished version I'd been continually "saving". Now I can't seem to post to the main site anymore. Intersections will be completed at some point in the near future, but I'm tired of this and I'm not doing it anymore (don't worry, I'm not going to quit blogging, but I think at the least a break is in order). I'll keep you posted. Keep checking in on this URL for updates. Click here to continue.
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Update: I am on hiatus from the No-Lyfe Journal until further notice, but I will be back when we get a more competent blogging program launched (which we're working on right now). As far as I know, Adam and Jay are not on hiatus at the present time.
A couple weeks ago, I read some news that made my inner 5-8 year-old jump for joy, as well as my 0-4 year-old (that didn't know much of what it was jumping for) and my 9-25 year-old, which felt like the 5-8 year old again.
Tom DeSanto (producer of X-Men and X2) and Don Murphy (producer of From Hell and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen) had signed on to produce a live-action Transformers movie.
Transformers could be called my all-time favorite toys, even to this day. They were the greatest, jumpstarting my imagination in so many ways. I loved the toys, the comics, and the cartoons. I cried when Optimus Prime died. I cheered when Hot Rod opened the Matrix. My formative years were dominated by all things Transformer, and to see the prospect of my childhood love coming to the big screen in a live-action movie brought by two men who have proven their ability to handle comics-to-movie projects very well is just... well, it makes me smile very broadly.
Of the many questions to pop into my mind about this potential movie, the first and foremost would be the script and the director. Both have to honor the spirit of the original without making it campy or hokey. But, being that Tom DeSanto proved his mettle in that area with the X-Men movies, I wasn't worried when it was announced that he himself would write the script treatment for the movie and another writer would be hired later to flesh out his plot.
But what about director?
Today, over at Comics2Film.com, Don Murphy was interviewed for the upcoming LXG movie. In a question about his other projects in the works, Murphy said that after officially announcing the live-action Transformers movie to the public, they were approached both by interested studios and "four or five directors.. including Michael Bay, Robert Zemeckis and Joseph Kahn."
What to make of these big name guys? Well, obviously, they jump out at you, but for different reasons.
Joseph Kahn - I have no clue who this guy is. On the IMDb, his one credit is having directed the as-yet-unreleased Torque. Not enough info for an opinion.
Michael Bay - If you want an effects spectacular, Michael Bay is your guy. He produced and directed Pearl Harbor and Armageddon, along with directing Bad Boys, The Rock, and Bad Boys II. Honestly, I'm not that thrilled about him for this project. While the look would probably be phenomenal, unless I hear that the script is solid and he's not changing a thing it, or that he was a huge transformers fan previously, I'd be worried that the movie would suffer from, shall we say... Lack of Depth.
Robert Zemeckis - Now *this* is a director I could get behind. His list of movies should speak for itself about his credentials to direct a live-action Transformers. Writer of: 1941, Back to the Future I, II, and III Director of: Romancing the Stone, Back to the Future I, II, and III, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Forrest Gump, Contact, Cast Away, and the upcoming Polar Express
This mini-biography from the IMDb sums up nicely why I think Zemeckis is the man for this project:
A 'whizkid' with special effects, Robert is from the Spielberg camp of film-making (Steven Spielberg produced many of his films.) Usually working with writing partner Bob Gale, Robert's earlier films show he has a talent for zany comedy Romancing the Stone (1984), 1941 (1979)) and special effect vehicles (Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), Back to the Future (1985)). Although these films are made purely for entertainment, with rarely much character development or a thoughtful plot, they are good fun. His later films, though, have become more serious and thoughtful, with the hugely successful Tom Hanks vehicle Forrest Gump (1994) and the Jodie Foster film Contact (1997), both critically acclaimed movies. Again, these films incorparate stunning effects. Robert has proved he can work a serious story around great effects, a feat many directors cannot achieve.
I'm a peaceful man, but I had an odd thirst for violence last evening. Someone was sharing with me a dreadful story about junior high. It was the kind of mean thing that junior high kids do that most people just grow up, get over, and laugh at the losers who are probably all leading quite miserable lives by now.
Which is what this person was able to do.
I, on the other hand, felt a compulsion to invent a time machine to go back in time and kick some junior high posterior.
September '75 I was 47 inches high Mom said someday I would have A bad ass mother G.I. Joe for your little minds to blow I still got beat up after class Now I'm big and important one angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces are you If you want to see me check your papers and your T.V. Look who's tellin' who what to do Kiss my ass good-bye -Ben Folds Five
I pace back and forth, looking out into the street and seeing my own reflection. No passing cars. No cars turning in. Certainly none of them being driven by Elciem. Given the standard hour-late window she's always gotten, she is three minutes from being officially late even by the diminished expectations I learned to give her. It's fitting, in a way. Tardiness and absenteism rank high among the reasons that things never worked out between us. Whether they were the symptoms, as I suspected, or the illness, as she suspected, it was always the cloud hanging over our head. Now, a year later, a year to the date that we parted ways, history repeats itself.
My cell phone starts lighting up, ringing, and vibrating to make sure I am aware that I'm recieving a phone call. I glance at the number. It's not Elciem, it's Polly.
"Is she there yet? Is she there yet? Huh? Huh? Is she there yet?" she asks in the voice of an impatient child.
"Cute. How many times must a comedy repeat itself before it officially becomes tragedy?"
I hate running late. Then again, it's what I've been doing most of my life, so I should be used to it. In this case, it is entirely a product of my own design. I am supposed to be at Brian's house by now, but I thought I'd take a brief detour past my ex-girlfriend Tanni's old house. She doesn't live there or anything, but I don't swing here too often so I figured I would at least pass by the porch where we first kissed, where I first told her that I loved her, and where we hugged goodbye before moving on with our lives. It was four years of my life and deserves more reflecting on than I generally give it. The only problem is that I took a wrong turn somewhere, turned back, then took another wrong turn into completely being lost.
June 2000
I'd clearly lost my mind. I was sitting there working on my sixth glass of whiskey, watching people dance. Well, not everyone, just one person in particular. Red is dancing with a dufus who is probably five years my senior. I have no right to be angry about it because I brushed her off. I told her that she was too young, that I was too far away, and just about everything except for the fact that I had a girlfriend. I don't know why I omitted that particular detail. It certainly would have taken me a lot less time to get her to move on, which I told her to do the second I realized that she was attracted to me. Well, she's moved on, dancing with Dufus, and watching me watch her. My eyes didn't leave her when I bought my seventh glass and slowly stumbled my way to my chair. Why was I upset? It's not anger. It couldn't be jealousy because I told her I didn't want anything from her. And besides, I was in a relationship. A happy relationship. Right?
July 2000
Red: Well, I guess that explains a lot of things. RAW: Yeah. I don't know why I didn't tell you. I guess it's just that I just wanted to be single for a weekend. And when I didn't tell you at first, I guess I felt embarassed so I kept coming up with other reasons that things couldn't work out. Red: So then I'm not too young? RAW: I really don't know, and that's part of the point. I don't know what's going on with me right now. It doesn't really matter, though, because I'm with Tanni. Red: Do you want to be with Tanni? RAW: That's beside the point. Red: ... RAW: I can't believe I just said that. Look, it doesn't matter because I couldn't hop from one relationship to another even if things don't work out with Tanni. And besides that, they will. By this time next year, we're going to be engaged. Red: So then why are you here, right now, and talking to me? RAW: Because I think I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, and I don't know who else to talk to. Red: Even if you don't talk to me, you should really talk to somebody.
Late July 2000
"I hope that it's you under there. It's been what, three months, and still no headstone. If not, sorry to bother you with the crises of someone you don't know. But I think this is the right plot. I wanted to go into the reception area and ask, but I can't say you're name yet. I can't even think you're name. As long as I think of you as 'Dark One' rather than, well, you, then I have some distance. I'm sorry, but I need that distance right now. I don't know if Tanni and I are going to make it. It's funny, the... situation... makes it easier to talk to you about this. I don't think I'd be able to tell you this face to face, cause I know you had so much faith in Tanni and I and... well I know that you always liked her. I could tell. And that in another time and place, where I wasn't here, you would have told her that. See? [laughs] You should have stuck around another year. I can't quite put my finger on the problem, but I know it runs pretty deep. I'm caught somewhere between knowing that she's the best thing that ever happened to me, and knowing that I can't give her all she needs."
I had my reasons for leaving now I know that I was wrong It was selfish to think you'd be better off just cause I wanted to be further along I had my reasons for leaving you
["Carry Me" - Tim Easton]
November 2000
"I don't know any way around it. When we met, I was trying to figure out who I was. The longer we were together, the more confident I became and the more I felt I could accomplish. The next thing I knew, I was looking in to law schools so that she could get her dream of an animal training center. There's all these things she's going to need. Financially, emotionally, and I just don't think I'm the person to give it to her," I explained, shrugging.
Elciem nodded.
May 2000
"So wait, why are you considering law school?" Tanni asked.
"It would be good for us. Don't you think? I get a college degree, work for some time in Intellectual Property law, you get to open the Whitlock Compound, and we'll be set," I answered.
"That doesn't answer my question, though. You never talked about law school before. Why are you talking about it now? Where did this idea come from?"
"It's just something I want to do," I lied.
November 2000, moments before
"I don't buy that you're this unemotional-but-contented person," Elciem explained. "You're smiling, but there's this tightness around your eyes. You shouldn't smile if you're not happy."
"Hmmm," I replied.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Just don't lie to me."
"No, it's just that..." I began.
December 2000
Jay: I'm kind of angry that you didn't say anything to me about it. RAW: Well, I wanted to, but I didn't think I should. I didn't intend to tell Elciem, but it just kind of happened, just like everything else kind of happened.
October 25, 2001
Tanni: So you and Elciem are really through, huh? RAW: Without question. Tanni: Are you okay? RAW: Give me a few days. I mean I'm bitter at eleven months of my life wasted, I'm sad at what seemed so perfect being so wrong, and... and mostly I feel lost. Over the last day or two, I've spent so much time, effort, and money I didn't have on this. Towards the end, it was really to the exclusion of everything else. When I wake up in the morning, I don't have anything to be angry about or- Tanni: I thought you said you were angry... RAW: Well, on one level I feel these things. On another I know I shouldn't. I told myself all along it wasn't going to work out and that if it didn't, well I knew that all along, didn't I? The whole point of my doubt and skepticism about her and us was that when it ended -- like I knew it would -- I wouldn't feel this way. Tanni: Argh! RAW: What? Tanni: Are you angry or not?! RAW: Right now I can't help it. But I can't let myself be. So when I wake up in the morning, instead of being angry, I am convincing myself that I shouldn't be.
On a Wednesday in April, 2003
Lisa: What do you mean you don't 'let' yourself feel regret? RAW: I mean that even if I thought ending our relationship was a mistake -- and I don't! -- I wouldn't let myself feel that it was a mistake because there's nothing I can do about it. Lisa: If you won't let yourself feel it, how do you know it's real? RAW: It's not real because I don't feel it. Besides, even if I did let myself feel that way I wouldn't for you because we were wrong from the start. Lisa: But how do you know you wouldn't feel it if you let yourself? How am I supposed you know? RAW: You should know because I'm telling you, in as clear language as I can, that leaving you was the right thing to do. Lisa: But you wouldn't admit it even if you were wrong because there isn't anything you can do about it? RAW: Luckily I don't have to prevent myself from admitting something because it was the right thing to do anyway. Lisa: You are such a lost cause. RAW: Thank you, can I go now? Lisa: Only if you tell me honestly whether or not you think breaking up with me was a mistake. RAW: Would you believe me if I told you the answer was no? Lisa: No...
December 2000
"I know you think you're doing the right thing here, Alex, but you're wrong. Dead wrong. But I want you to find happiness and maybe... maybe. I just want you to promise me something. If you ever realize that walking away from this is wrong... if you ever regret it, I want you to tell me. Wherever you are or whatever I'm doing, I just want to know, okay? Even if you don't want to get back together, I want to know." -Tanni
May 2003
I'd been up and down Everglade Drive five or six times. Not only couldn't I recall how to get to Tanni's house, but I couldn't even remember the street I was looking for. It was something "berry." Not a lot of help when the streets are thematically named: Strawberry, Blueberry, Dewberry, Raspberry. I counted my blessings for being able to at least discount "Peach."
It's almost silly to think about, really. All I was doing was wanting to pass, if only for a moment, the home to so many of my memories. The last thing I would care to do is go in and talk to the family. After things ended, I became the fall guy to all of the problems Tanni and her parents were having. When she got another boyfriend shortly after our breakup, her mom reportedly thanked him for "giving them their daughter back." I suppose that I'd earned the role of villain by hurting their daughter, but from parents I'd always gotten along quite well with, it stung. Their fights about her grades, dropped classes, money, their dogs, and everything else was laid at my feet. I was the bad guy.
It wasn't the problems that I remembered, though. It still isn't. It was the way she looked at me when I was being frustrating. They way she lowered her eyebrows when she was mad. The wonderful smile that I painstakingly had to coax out of her much of the time. Her talent with animals. Mostly, that for a majority of a four year relationship, I thought there was a good chance that I'd spend the rest of my life with her. I had started to plan to propose, ironically in part to get her out of the house as I saw that as the only solution as I saw that as the only solution to a number of problems that she was having with her parents.
I was initially euphoric for about a month. When that subsided, I was overwhelmed with an onslaught of dread. Despite our four years together, I wasn't ready. She wasn't ready, either. Perhaps there was something in us that just wasn't right. Right? I'd gone the eighteen months or so after the breakup without regretting it. Of all the things I wouldn't allow myself to feel, that was near the top of the list.
When I found myself at the intersection of Everglade and Dewberry, I asked myself: "Is there a statute of limitations for regret?"
Both your initials inside a heart on a bar napkin that's falling apart It's never as good as it is at the start No, I guess he was not the one
Who said goodbye? Couldn't swallow their pride and wishes it could all be undone When you talked about a daughter did you pick out her name? Is it there with your old boyfriend's things?
["Old Boyfriend's Things" - The Groobies] [To be continued]
posted by R. Alex Whitlock at 4:03 AM -
Intersections Images
Just a quick note. I replaced the image of the Intersections intro. It was only a temporary one till I could get the collages ready. I have them working now, so we're good to go. Each collage is linked up to a picture of all of them with unreleased portions in Dark Angles.
As the story progresses the released pictures are unfiltered.
I got the collage idea from a Ben Folds Five CD (at least I think that's it) that Jason showed me a while back, where he put pictures of his ex-girlfriends on the sleeve. I included pictures of people who are in the story and others that are mentioned in passing. The people do not necessarily appear slash are not necessarily mentioned in the portion of the story being posted, which I started to set up but decided not to in the interest of privacy and keeping people from necessarily matching "characters" to faces.
The Spider-Man movie ranks roughly at #3 for the best superhero movie I've seen, so I really hope that this mess doesn't throw a wrench in the clockwork on the sequels. Marvel, to be sure, has every reason to be paranoid-style protective over its properties, though I don't know enough to know if Sony's allegations of Marvel simply angling for a renegotiation are valid. If so, then Marvel deserves to screw themselves over.
I guess this is one problem that DC/Time-Warner doesn't have...
"Novelists when they write novels tend to take an almost godlike attitude toward their subject, pretending to a total comprehension of the story, a man's life, which they can therefore recount as God Himself might, nothing standing between them and the naked truth, the entire story meaningful in every detail. I am as little able to do this as the novelist is, even though my story is more important to me than any novelist's is to him - for this is my story; it is the story of a man, not of an invented, or possible, or idealized, or otherwise absent figure, but of a unique being of flesh and blood . . . If we were not something more than unique human beings, if each one of us could really be done away with once and for all by a single bullet, storytelling would lose all purpose. But every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world's phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again. That is why every man's story is important, eternal, sacred; that is why every man, as long as he lives and fulfills the will of nature, is wondrous, and worthy of every consideration. In each individual the spirit has become flesh, in each man the creation suffers, within each one a redeemer is nailed to the cross." -Herman Hesse, Damien
The above quote, provided by Sugarmama on a recounting of her time spend in Montana, resonated with me quite deeply. I first read it a month or two ago, when she first made a list of her favorite posts.
As a writer, we are indeed all gods of our own works. We have complete domain over the characters, what they say and what they do. As it happens, I don't control my characters as much as they control the story. Meaning that I simply make the characters, define the relationships, and they work the rest out themselves. Of course, the characters are created as such that there is really only one course of action for them to take at most times. While I rarely know how a novel is going to end until I'm halfway through or so, by the time I'm done I cannot imagine it having ended any other way. But while I don't exert much control over my characters, I at least have the ability to define the narrative. I can tell the story, which is merely the product of the characters and their growth (or failure to do so), in such a way as to outline the morals of the story. One even leads to another, which leads to another, and so on, but I can explain how these interactions take place, why what happens happens, and what doesn't does not.
So while I'm not omnipotent, I am somewhat omniscient.
I have historically been lucky, in a way, that my life has worked in such a way that I draw lessons from my failures, take notes of my successes, and can generally supply a narrative of where I've been, what I've done, and the ways that I have been affected by it all. My life has been a series of seemingly coincidental meetings and sprouting philosophy and emotion that, for the most part, I've been able to make remarkable sense of it all.
When I was a kid, I adored this girl named Sarah. I called her Sarah Goddess, which to me she was. Of course, the real Sarah Beth could never match the ideal Sarah Goddess that I had created. So while I admired her flesh and mind, what I really adored was merely a figment of my imagination. At the next intersection down the road, I met Arte, who was actually someone I could deal with, but in typical sixteen year old fashion was more in my mind than she was in real life. Then came Ora, who was all too human and, I'd say, the first girl that I ever loved for who she was, not who I imagined she could be.
This trend continued as each step I took seemed an immediately improvement on the last. Even when they ended in disaster, there was nonetheless a lesson hidden in the shards and debris left behind. Like a random object you can pick up in a video game, it was certain to be of use later. Each adventure built upon the last. That's not to say that each was better than the last, but there was a strong sense of continuity where they each seemed to pick up where the last left off. Even when I knew I wasn't with "the one" I still new that this was still a step on the way there.
At some point, the lessons started becoming muddled and contradictory. When the next intersection came, I just I kept driving. So many pitfalls, so many potential mistakes. Everything I did was second-guessed right along side of everything I didn't do but wondered if I should have. My breaks didn't seem to work and I didn't have the courage for a wide turn. And all I could do was keep driving. For about a year and a half, that's really all I did.
That's not to say that I stayed my path. There were some turns along the way, but always dirt roads leading to nowhere. One of them was Lisa, who reminded me that there are consequences even when taking a short detour. I had become embroiled in the very thing I was pressing -- smashing -- my accelerator to avoid. And I grew tired and weary. I realized that something needed to change as I didn't even know where the road I was on was headed. Maybe I needed to stop and ask for directions or I just needed to pull over on the side of a desolate stretch of road and rest. Whatever the case, I needed something.
That was when I posted My Little Identity Crisis Melodrama. It was a few odd turns that got me to do that, as I'd never really used a blog for an unloading of deeply personal things. I'd taken a short hiatus and wasn't sure what to tell everyone, so I left a bit of an ominous message. That lead people to worry and so I decided when I'd go back I'd explain what was going on. Unfortunately, when I tried, I couldn't get the words out. So I applied a narrative to it, put it in the form of a conversation with Lisa, a conversation with my deceased friend Keith, and an abrupt ending. It was abrupt because while I was able to provide a narrative for preceeding events, the characters stopped moving when I stopped writing. In other words, while I knew how I got there, I still didn't know what to do next.
When I finally couldn't deny that anymore, I wrote Me, Myself, & I. I was hoping maybe if I use different characters, version of myself from various points in my life, I might be able to figure out where I should go next. Unfortunately, part way through I was terminated from my job and everything got put on hold. All of the questions suddenly became so big, so overwhelming, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't even begin to try to figure everything out. I didn't even know where to start. Whatever problems I was having in my personal life paled compared to finding work. But job hunting is 4/5 waiting, so what could I do?
Right before Akon, Adam reminded me that I never really finished Me, Myself, & I. I knew that, of course, but I just didn't know what came next. Despite having a cursory awareness of what the problem was, I had no idea how to go about fixing it without completely reworking myself at the risk of making bigger mistakes. Nonetheless, I tried. I managed to break through a little farther than before, and then I ran smack into the next intersection.
What you are about to read, if you do choose to read it, is not a mere description of the thoughts that I've had. Nor is it simply a presentation of no personal value to me merely there for your entertainment. It's something of a look in my mind and what I was thinking and the dots I connected in my effort to figure out how things got as out of wack as they did.
So throughout the week, I'm going to be posting the conclusion to the story, more or less. It's been written for a few weeks now, but I've been sitting on it while trying to figure out if I wanted to actually post it or just continue to sit. I've decided to post it.
I never intended the blog to be a psychologist's chair and once I post this, it's likely the last you'll see of this sort of thing in a while. While I can accurately be described as a somewhat neurotic person about many things in my life, I am not ordinarily self-obsessed or a whiner as you might have guessed by reading me in reason months. Most of all, thanks for listening.
Sperling's Best Places apparently did a study on the best and worst places to drive in the nation. The results: Texas took four of the top ten cities (including all three of the top three) for driving and none of the bottom 10! Granted, Houston, Austin, San Marcos, and Waco, where we've all lived, aren't among the four in the top ten, but considering how bad things are, it's gratifying to know that we're not in the bottom ten either! There are cities worse than ours!!
Well, that or we weren't among the 77 cities they looked at.
Update: Actually, if you include Oklahoma as part of Texas (which I generally do... stupid mapmakers), we have 6 of 10 and still none of the bottoms.
Some Random Thoughts On Fort Worth and The Fourth of July
*- Ft. Worth has a wonderful downtown area. They took us down there on Thursday evening and it was awesome. More similar to Austin than Houston, I'd say. Not bad for one of the most conservative cities in the state.
*- My Aunt and Uncle have Annie, a Beagle that's probably about 12 years old. I remember her when she was a puppy. Young, spunky, cute, full of energy.
*- She's still cute.
*- There is nothing that makes you want to take a nap more than watching a twelve year old beagle stretch out and rest. As soon as I finish that, I might want to take a nap.
*- Gerry Spence once said that dogs are wiser than people because when people want attention, they don't try to innocuously draw it by playing "Guess what's wrong with me" games or whatnot. They just put their head on your leg, look up to you, and say with their eyes in perfect English (or Spanish or Japanese or whatever), "Pet me. I want to be petted. I want attention."
*- Annie is a firm believer that no dog is ever too old for such treatment.
*- Watching her lay there for hours on end with her tummy pointed up just on the off-chance that someone might walk by and want to rub her tummy almost makes me want my tummy rubbed.
*- Almost, but not quite.
*- My cell phone battery is out of juice. Boo hiss. I wonder if they have a charger around here.
*- My aunt and uncle have high speed Internet on a relatively fast computer... with 128 megs of RAM running Windows XP. It's analogous to having a 1984 Dodge Colt motor in a Ferari.
*- Their computer also has 800x600 resolution on a 17" monitor. At the dorm I work on 1600x1200 resolution on a 19". We're both wrong, but they're more wrong because the Internet quite simply was not made for 800x600 resolution. No-Lyfe Journal certainly wasn't.
*- The high speed Internet here might, might just be enough to convince my father to get high speed at their house. They have a faster computer with more RAM, but a modem connection. My folks are still under a contract that they signed in 1994 three ISP mergers ago, paying $25 a month for a modem connection that maxes out on 28.8. My mother is only now begining to understand the distinction between computer and connection ("It's not the computer, it's the modem") and that might be the last nail in my father's coffin of thriftiness. She's been on this computer more than I have. Two-fold.
*- While the computer is good and the RAM is bad, it also has tons of freeware installed on it. I'd say two third-site pop-up ads appear on every site I visit, including blogspots and other sites that I know do not contain pop-ups. The ESPN site brings up six. Lesson for the day: Mind your freeware. Ain't nuthin' free in this world.
*- Back to Fort Worth. There may or may not have been a big fireworks ceremony. If there was, we didn't go to it. At 1 in the morning last night, though, there were a handful of people (about one in each direction) putting on an impromptu demonstration. Small, but sincere, perhaps the way that it was meant most to be.
*- Each year they have a wonderful demonstration over Clear Lake. Everyone walks around from neighboring communities and fills Clear Lake Park with blankets. People sell tons of glowsticks. Usually a radio station or two will show up so you'll get some R&B station competing for volume with some pop country station. Unfortunately, 90.1, our Pacifica/NPR station, doesn't stop by. Perhaps because this is a demonstration of pride of America. Nasty jingoes, all of us.
*- I miss the sense of community of the Clear Lake show, but not the actual community. The people are fine, of course, but so many of them in such close quarters? I'll pass.
*- Above I said there may or may not have been an official fireworks demonstration. I now recall that there was and Charlie Robison was playing at it. I'm sorry to have missed it.
*- But not the people.
*- Looking down the street of where my Aunt and Uncle live, this is the stereotypical Texas community. I have to count about five or six houses in either direction before I actually see a house with a car, as opposed to pick-up, van, SUV, or RV. The RVs outnumber the cars 2-to-1.
*- I really like it here.
*- It's a good thing I left my car at home, though, because I think it would be getting lonely.
*- I wish I could hear Robert Earl Keen's rendition of "Fourth of July." The thing about Robert Earl Keen is that he is quite possibly the best songwriter in Texas history. His voice, however, is hollow and scratchy. It works for him, but just about everyone can cover a REK tune better than Keen can sing it. Keen didn't actually write the "Fourth of July" song (Dave Alvin did), but this one is the exception that proves the rule. Kudos to Alvin for writing a song about the Fourth of July that's about isolation and sadness in the face of a joyous holiday. Kudos for Keen's hollow and scratchy voice for singing it so much better than Alvin does.
"She's waiting for me when I get home from work But things just ain't the same She turns out the light and cries in the dark Won't answer when I call her name
On the stairs I smoke a cigarette alone The Mexican kids are shooting fireworks below Hey, babe, it's the Fourth of July"
*- I love that song.
*- American flags are everywhere. I suspect that such is the case even when it's not July 4.
*- A few weeks back, on a date that was not July 4, I was at the Firehouse. A guy named Frank NeVille was opening for Dub Miller. I wasn't familiar with him, and given that I have my ear to the rail of Texas Country Music that meant that most likely 95% of the people in the club that night, mostly there for something to do or see Miller come on, hadn't heard from him either.
Towards the end of his set, he asked everyone to please stand for the national anthem. Unlike at the begining of a baseball game or whatnot when one expects to stand for the national anthem, this was in a bar full of people that were comfortably talking or listening to him play. Nonetheless, I'd say 90% of the people in that bar stood up, at the request of an unknown musician, in respect for our country.
I was just outside on the street of my aunt's house. I don't have any childhood memories here. When we came to Fort Worth previously, we generally stayed at my grandmother's house. Until recently, my Aunt and Uncle lived in a shoddier house over in that neighborhood, a couple of miles away. But for some reason I was reminiscing about the Oakland Silver Eagles.
The Oakland Silver Eagles were the team that Jason and I "played for" many years ago. It involved a nerf turbo football, me as quarterback (usually) and him as wide reciever (usually). I'd make up schedules and we'd play various teams. Our characters even had names. Mine was Eric Woodsen and heaven help me, I can't remember Jay's, but it was a good name. Even our opponents had names. The Los Angeles Raiders QB was named Adam Severin and the Denver Broncos linebacker was named Derrick Thompson. We were in the AFC somewhere. We had thirty teams, with the Jacksonville Tropics as the NFC expansion team.
We had various teams for various sports. We were the Oakland Pioneers basketball team (for anyone wondering, we chose Oakland because at the time it didn't have a football team and still doesn't have a basketball one). My name was something Spencer and his was something Brochton. Even when we weren't the Pioneers, we were still outside shooting hoops a lot. We'd throw baskets and talk about movie ideas, girls, or whatever else we felt inclined to.
These days, neighborhoods are being build that don't allow basketball hoops. Some are being built that only allow them off to the side, which causes a host of logistical problems, but keeps the neighborhoods nice, I guess. Keeps garage roofs with minimal damage. They're a lot less fun, but that matters to some more than it does to others.
Earlier today, I was driving down Baronridge drive, killing some time waiting for Dad to get home so we could leave and I saw Baronridge Park. A long time ago, there used to be a big giant mound that we'd ride our bikes over and, just for a few seconds, we'd fly. Some landings were smoother than others, but when we would scrape our elbows, we'd get back on and ride some more.
The mound is gone now. It's not hard to figure out why. Either some kid got hurt and their mom complained or some insurance investigator figured that might not be the case, so they dug it up and replaced it with nothing. Kids can't get hurt on nothing, I suppose. That's one step better than the park by the pool, where they took the entire thing down, save for a little rocking shuttle (analogous to a rocking horsie, except we're 10 miles from the Johnson Space Center). No more jungle gym or fort or anything.
Another thing that Jay, myself, and all of his friends would do on his birthday was have a watergun fight. We planned those things intensely. We saved up so that we could get the best munitions on the market, which at the time was a Super Soaker 200. The SS200, for those of you who do not recall, was a really powerful water gun with a good-sized air pocket that would allow for more pressure. It worked, as if shot close enough, it sprayed so far that it hurt. It hurt, so it's gone, too. Recently, we looked over Super Soaker's current offerings at Walmart and none of them approach that power.
When I was growing up, pools had a high dive board and a low dive board. The sense of fear that I had going up the high dive was palpable. The knot in my stomach as I went down almost hurt. The pain of the water hitting my skin was not severe, but noticeable. Time and time again I jumped, and time and time again I wanted to keep doing it. I liked every minute of it. When I was probably 11 or so, they took the high dive down. Now many pools don't even have low dives.
Now they're doing away with the deep end altogether. We're told that they will not be missed because the new pools are safer. Less accidents. More importantly, less need for parental oversight. Even more important than that, lower insurance payments required.
Granted, really small kids have no business on a diving board, high or low. Agreed, a kid who is barely above 3' tall doesn't really need to be on the 7' end of the pool. Being 6'5", though, I want a 7' end of the pool. When I was 14 and 6', I wanted the same. When I was 12 and however tall I was at the time, I wanted to toss sinking rings into the deep end and drive down all 20' of water to go get them.
When I think of the most exciting things I did as a kid (of whatever age), they almost always involved a sense of danger. There was always, however small, a risk involved. Whether it was at the highest point of a wave pool, 15' below water, or diving 30' into the water. It wasn't for everybody, but it was for me. And many, many others like me. I understand the need to make the world safe, but you can only insulate kids so much. A little parental supervision (and lifeguard and so on) goes quite a long way.
When I was in Oklahoma, little Adric was all over the place. There were certain dangers that were serious and we all watched out for that. When Adric continually ran too close to the hot grill, he was tied down. When the campfire was going, he was monitored very closely. At one point when I was talking to Micah, his father, he shared his philosophy on the matter. When they fall and start crying, you check to make sure they're not really hurt, then you let them cry. The kid learns what hurts and what doesn't and cries when there is a problem, not just because he or she knows it'll get him or her attention. Kids, he said, are more durable than we give them credit for.
On my right arm are two pin-marks from a jungle gym that I fell off of when I was in the first grade. Right under my eye is a scar that I got when a baseball bat hit me there. There are many bruises that haven't left marks, like when I hit my head by trying to demonstrate that I could ride a bike without any hands. There was also the time when I drove my bike right into a ditch and fell on my thumb so hard it didn't move for almost two days. Scrapes, cuts, bruises.
What do I have to do to get these guys to stick with the old design? Even if this one works (which it does seem to), it's not easier to use. It's not AS easy to use. It doesn't do anything new or different. There is no improvement.
Except it looks prettier, I guess. That doesn't really count.
Okay, they seem to have the old new one now. Hip-hip-I'm-friggin-tired-of-this.
I'm leaving town for Fort Worth some time tomorrow morning. I intended to post this morning, but I have been struck with an opthalmic migraine which means that my eyes are going to be pretty useless for a few hours. I'll try to write something tonight if I can, but right now I can barely read what I'm typing, which isn't good for finding post-fodder.
Auditory : 50% Visual : 50% Left : 63% Right : 36%
R. Alex, you are somewhat left-hemisphere dominant with a balanced preference for auditory and visual inputs. Because of your "centrist" tendencies, the distinctions between various types of brain usage are somewhat blurred.
Your tendency to be organized and logical and attend to details is reasonably well-established which should afford you success regardless of your chosen field of endeavor, unless it requires total spontaneity and ability to improvise, your weaker traits. However, you are far from rigid or overcontrolled. You possess a degree of individuality, perceptiveness, and trust in your intuition to function at much more sophisticated levels than most.
Having given sufficient attention to detail, you can readily perceive the larger aspects and implications of a situation or of learning. You are functional and practical, but can blend abstraction and theory into your framework readily.
The equivalence of your auditory and visual learning orientation gives you two equally effective sensory input systems, each with distinctive features. You can process both unidimensionally and multidimen- sionally with equal facility. When needed, you sequence material while at other times you "intake it all" and store it for processing later.
Your natural ability to use your senses is also synthesized in your way of learning. You can be reflective in your approach, absorbing material in a non-aggressive manner, and at other times voracious in seeking out stimulation and experience.
Overall you tend to be somewhat more critical of yourself than is necessary and avoid enjoying life too much because of a sense of duty. You feel somewhat constrained and tend to sometimes restrict your expressiveness. In any given situation, you will opt for the rational, and learning of almost any type should be easy for you. You might need certain ideas explained to you in order to fit them into your scheme of things, but you're at least open to that!
It seems to overestimate my organizational abilities. I tend to organize computer files pretty tediously (for instance, there are four layers of folders for mp3's), but my room and car are and always will be a mess. On the other hand, this part is dead on: "However, you are far from rigid or overcontrolled. You possess a degree of individuality, perceptiveness, and trust in your intuition to function at much more sophisticated levels than most."
Losing things has always been a specialty of mine. It also tends to overestimate my learning capabilities, but one trick of the successes of some of these tests is to make the test-taker feel smarter and better than they are. I tend to actually learn things more by internalizing and working through them in my mind. Seeing or hearing something rarely does it. In one ear/eye and out the other unless I can find a way to relate it to what I already know or use it somehow.
It does seem to fly in the face of Typology, however, which suggests that I am very right-brained.
UPDATE: I was talking to someone earlier this evening who suggested that I was taking a narrow view of "organized" by using a clean car or room as examples. The more I consider it, the more she is correct. I am actually very organized in a number of other ways. Anally so. I tend to categorize people and situations, not to mention organizing my thoughts to an arguably excessive degree. In fact, one of the things that induced me to blog was the realization that I need to analyze my view of the situation (ie organize my thoughts) less and simply act more.
Today, I've been wearing a t-shirt that I've had since my sophomore year in high school. It's got a hole in the armpit and the ends are becoming frayed. I also put on a pair of hospital scrub pants that I bought at a thrift store. The most recent article of clothing is my pair of tennis shoes that I excitedly got earlier this year.
"They say love is blind. I don't think you're blind." -They Might Be Giants, Narrow Your Eyes
The other evening, I was talking to a good friend who was impressed with an excerpt from one of my novels that I posted here. She asked how it was that I could relate to things that, as a young man, I should have no right to. It was all quite flattering. Though her tone was somewhat inquisitional, I took it as a compliment because understanding people is one of my most developed skills. I'm not positive where I got it from (my mother? people watching?) but it nonetheless helps me out a lot day to day because I'm not like most people and if I wasn't adept at understanding people who weren't like me, I'd understand practically no one at all.
I assess people rather quickly. Within a few hours, I can tell how compatible I am with someone (be it romantically or otherwise) and though I'm not a fortune teller, I am not often surprised by what they say and do. This drove Lisa, a girl I dated earlier this year, batty. She constantly tried to surprise me or tell me things about her that would throw me for a loop. She would say things just to get a reaction, but because I was expecting not only off-the-wall self-divulgements, but the very ones that she gave, I rarely batted an eye.
The conversation with my friend didn't remind me so much of Lisa, though, as it did of Elciem. Elciem and I met while we were both in the process of getting out of the serious relationships we were in. We hit it off instantly and felt through one another a connection that we'd both been lacking for some time. Though we remained faithful to our respective partners, we both knew exactly where our undefined relationship would end up. The night that I was free to get off. Somewhere in between where we started and where we were supposed to end up, her ex-boyfriend, whom I will call Michael (in part because that's his name, but even if it weren't, I'd still call him michael because dipsticks of his sort are always named Michael), entered the picture.
What happened next was not a pretty sight. She not only had to deal with her soon-to-be-ex partner and me, but an ex-boyfriend from a rather intense relationship. I'd never met Michael, but I had gathered that he was the pivotal boyfriend in her life as I knew that after him, she said everything felt less alive. I was, of course, trying to change that. I was succeeding right up until I was left to compete with the very person who had last inspired such feelings in her. Her meeting with Michael all started out rather innocently. Reconciliation was not even discussed between them.
It didn't matter. I knew.
I told her that she was making two rather tremendous mistakes. First that she was spurning me (low self-esteem isn't generally one of my biggest problems), but second, that she was getting involved with someone who grossly neglected and mistreated her. While I'm obvious biased on the first point, I felt more passionately about the second. While I would have been hurt had she jilted me for someone who was deserving, at least then I'd know she would at least be happy. Honest to God, that mattered to me as much as anything else. But Michael would not make her happy and she'd not only be jilting me, but doing so for someone that would cause her nothing but pain. To whatever degree he might open up initially, he would eventually back away and start looking for a better deal, with her wrapped around his finger.
When I voiced my concerns, she told me I was crazy. She and Michael were just getting closure and she was just trying to sort things out with him. They hadn't discussed reconciliation and nothing romantic had happened or was even likely to happen. Who was I to tell her what she was going to do and what he was going to do? I was clearly going out of my mind due to jealousy and fear.
Except, as time went on, Elciem did exactly what I said she would. So did Michael.
Elciem and I eventually worked to put the pieces back together between us, but it was more-or-less ill-fated from the start. She wasn't over Michael and I knew too much about the way she worked to ever truly trust her heart. Even as she got over the dipstick, I could tell that things just weren't going to work, no matter how much each of us wanted them to. At several points I tried to walk away, but each time she managed to convince me to stay.
Everything finally came to a head when another fellow entered the picture and she wanted to back off to think things over. I told her that wasn't going to happen and that lead to a prolonged and heated argument. She told me that she just needed to work things out, I told her that she was going to decide that she needed a new start. I could see, action for action, how things were going to disintegrate. That wasn't what I signed on for and this time I really wanted out for good. The argument continued as she told me to stop telling her what she was going to do, until finally it clicked.
We were sitting in the parking lot of a Target when we had our last argument.
"You're always mad and I'm always sad. Things between us have just never been right, have they?" she asked.
"No, they haven't."
"Things with Other Guy aren't as bad. But then, he and I haven't made it as far along as you and me," she reasoned.
"It doesn't matter. Things between you two aren't as bad. That's why you're going to choose him."
"And then things between us won't ever have been right."
"I know," I told her.
"And that's why it's not right for me to be asking you to stay."
And, in probably the only selfless act of our tenure, she stopped. Once again, I was proven right. I was right about Michael, I was right about the other guy, and I was right in between.
In Greek mythology, Cassandra is known for being able to tell the future, yet being unable to do anything about it. To a degree, I could relate to that over the 2001 year. I knew what she was going to do, and why, but I couldn't stop it. Indeed, I thought that knowing what she was going to do would spare me the pain of shattered expectations.
I take pride in my ability to learn something from nearly every ill-fated romance I partake in (or try to). It took me a while before I began to really understand the lessons imparted, however unintentionally, by Elciem. I've been keeping one of them close to my heart over the past few months:
If you're looking off the ledge of a three story building, it doesn't matter if you know you can't fly and that hitting the ground is going to hurt. It hurts anyway.
UPDATE: There seems to have been some miscommunication. Elciem happened during 2001. A parallel event has not happened. It has been "on my mind" because of the assessment I've been going through this year and wondering if perhaps I'd been guarding myself too tightly and vesting time and energy in the wrong places. I have a rather large post coming up that will clarify these points.
I assess people rather quickly. Within a few hours, I can tell how compatible I am with someone (be it romantically or otherwise) and though I'm not a fortune teller, I am not often surprised by what they say and do. This drove Lisa, a girl I dated earlier this year, batty. She constantly tried to surprise me or tell me things about her that would throw me for a loop. She would say things just to get a reaction, but because I was expecting not only off-the-wall self-divulgements, but the very ones that she gave, I rarely batted an eye.
We were sitting in the parking lot of a Target when we had our last argument.