Titanium Rhapsody

Forget the cover song albums by various lesser rock bands...
forget the symphonic interpretation of their music...
and please forget the Paul Rodgers debacle...

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the coolest tribute to Queen, hands down.



(Let me know if you have any problems viewing it.)

A message to a friend, or "Your prescription is ready, ma'am"

O, my little friend to the North.
My Canadian princess.
My occasional supply of joy, smiles and general youngfeelingness.
Would that I were there to help relieve your pain of back,
your agony of da feet.
I would soak you in the hot waters of a relaxing, soothing bath,
and loofah your worries and troubles away,
until you melt away in a world of carefree, sensual splendor,
your mind set free, if only for several hours,
of the shackles of Everyday Life.
I would feed you by hand, strawberries dipped in Cool Whip,
or nachos with your homemade guacamole,
whichever you were more in the mood for.
I would then remove you from said bath,
lie you down and tuck you in for a long, peaceful sleep,
and tell whoever calls for you to fuck off.

Would that I were there.

But, unfortunately, I'm not there, so all I can do is wish that you get to feeling better. You know if there's anything I can possibly do, however insignificant, I'm just a phone call away.

Life's Little Tragedies #2: The Anniversary of Me

39 years ago today I was just beginning the process of recovering from squeezing my entire body out of a vagina; an event I don't actually recall, but cried about at the time, nonetheless.

Life's Little Rants #6: The Wacky World of Censorship

I was listening to a radio station at work yesterday. To preface the next part of the story, they switch radio stations periodically at work to accomodate the varied listening tastes (a word sometimes used loosely in these matters) of the semi-diverse groups that are employed within. Without getting into something else altogether by discussing my feelings about different, lesser genres of music, the groups of listeners involved are basically white, black, and hillbilly. You have your couple of stations that pretty much cater to all types, and these are the stations I wish they would leave on at all times. They play a good, wide array of songs from several decades, from an equally wide array of different artists from several genres. One of those stations even plays a lot of 80's music (in my opinion, the best decade for music, hands down). One or two stations that get rotation at work rely on a pretty strict diet of , for lack of a better term, black music. You have your rap (or, I guess they're calling it "hip-hop" nowadays, even though they're still rapping...oh well), R&B and soul. The other station plays top 40 music, and since most of the top 40 these days is black music...well, there you go. Then, last and least, you have your country music. We don't hear the country station too much, which is fine by me, but we paid for it earlier this week, as several representatives of the country faction managed to scribble enough decipherable words onto a piece of paper, which managed to find its way into the suggestion box and, when read, bitched about the fact that country music isn't played often enough, in their opinion. I think it said something to the extent of "More Hank! Yee Haw!" (sorry, the ills of L'ville still boil deep within me) So, we had an entire day of country music. Next week, my suggestion for the box will either be polka, or, if one exists, a station of nothing but Gregorian chant. I digress.

So, we happened to have it on one of the black stations at some point yesterday. You know the one: "The Quiet.......Storm" (cue thunderclap and rainfall effects). They start playing a Prince song. I think "cool", as I like Prince. The song is "Housequake", which is one of those Prince songs you don't ever hear getting play on the radio. I think "cooler still". So I'm singing along with the words, to myself, at my desk, and within the first 30 seconds of the song, the reason why you don't hear this particular song on the radio becomes abundantly clear: Prince, in all his glory, yells "Bullshit!" I exclaim out loud "YES!", since I absolutely love it when any expletive makes its way onto the airwaves, intentional or not. Sure enough, within 5 to 10 seconds of the faux pas, the song fades out prematurely, and another, tamer song begins to play. I sort of chuckled to myself, shook my head, and went about my business, ignoring the replacement music. What's even funnier, in a dark kind of funny, is that radio station is probably going to receive a fine for airing that word on the radio. Why? Because as sure as God made the platypus while he was stoned, some old lady will call in with a claim of being offended at hearing the word "shit" coming out of her radio. This same lady probably hung up the phone and yelled to a group of kids outside to get off her goddamn lawn. Yes, my friends, Irony and Humor may have been surgically separated at birth, but they still share a spiritual link that no crazy situation in life can rend asunder. The South Park movie summed this up best with the line "Remember what the MPAA says: Horrific, deplorable violence is okay, as long as people don't say any naughty words!"

Thus begins the rant.

Why do I love it when an expletive finds its way into the public's ear? Because, quite simply, it's a small way of sticking it to Those Who Would Have Us Speak The Way They Want Us To And Hear And See Only What They Want Us To. Face it, expletives are a part of nearly everybody's everyday dialect. A lot of people know when it's appropriate to use them, depending on the company we share or the situation at hand, but there really is no getting away from them, no matter what we do. We will deal with someone, somewhere, every day, who will use some form of "colorful metaphor" to express themselves. Are we going to dry up and wither away at the sound of such evilness? Doubtful. Example: Fuck. I just now typed that word for the purpose of making a point. Did I hurt anyone? Did I risk a chance at world peace by using that word? It's not like I replied to a comment I may have not liked by saying "fuck you". Even if I had, would that have killed anyone? The use of it would have been to merely express a feeling or thought. Luckily, I have an extensive enough of a vocabulary that I can tell someone how I feel in a way that will still be interpreted as "fuck you", even though I didn't say the actual words.

My point is, why bleep things out or cut things off at all? Who are They trying to protect? Children, maybe? Fine, bleep something out. Don't you think that's just going to arouse a kid's curiosity as to what was bleeped out, and they're going to find out anyway, whether you like it or not? In fact, they're more likely to seek something out if they know it's taboo or forbidden in any way. Kids test limits, and they're rebellious. Just say the word, and let the kid decide what to do with it. Then, if the parents hear it from the kid, they can deal with him/her. Good enough parents will raise their kids to deal with trivial things like this in life, and teach them that if they should choose to incorporate certain "metaphors" into their vernacular, there may be consequences. I believe good parenting is guiding children, not imprisoning them in Their beliefs. Talk to your kids about what they hear and see. Always make yourself accessible to them, so if they have questions about life, they know they can come to you without fear of being punished for just being curious. Teach them to make good choices, and trust them to act on those choices.

Ok, granted, I'm not a parent myself. But I've been in this world enough to be able to see from my experiences, and from what I see a lot of people in the world going through, to know how well I was taught, how I would have liked to have been taught about things I may not have been, and how I would teach my own children. My mom swore occasionally. She understood it rubbed off on me, and subsequently I used a lot of words in the company of my friends, as we all did, to sort of see how the world reacted. We tested the waters of society's view of us based on how we talk to our fellow human beings. And you know what? I think we turned out ok. We watched R-rated movies, we listened to music with naughty words in it, some of us may have even watched a little porn...and we turned out ok. Well, most of us did, anyway.

Speaking of us, are They trying to protect us, too? Sorry, I've already been raised once, and I don't need to be raised again. I don't need to have bad words kept from me by a group of uptight prudes, like I've never heard them before, or because They've decided what's best for me, like I'm a child. I decide what's best for me, and if I want to listen to songs with "bad words" in them, that's my choice. If I want to watch a TV show or movie with bad language or nudity in it, that's my choice. This is why I hate watching movies on TV, and why I will never purchase an edited version of an album, or even a edited single from an album. The line between the world we live in and the world of Big Brother is getting really thin lately, and getting thinner all the time. It's all of funny, sad, pathetic and maddening that something as stupid as seeing Janet Jackson's boob for a half a second has set off this whole new movement of censorship in our country. It's not like we knew the boob was coming, and half a second wasn't even long enough to grasp what had just happened. Hell, I wouldn't have even realized what happened if the media and some priorities-screwed-up parents hadn't blown the whole damn thing out of proportion. I saw her boob...so what? I've seen boobs before. Anybody who's ever had sex with a woman, not to mention every woman on earth who's ever looked in a mirror, has seen boobs before. Just because it happened to be on the TV screen for a split second doesn't mean it's obscene. Jeez, They're trying to make it seem like the boob attempted to open a direct gateway to the depths of Hell.

So, a final message to Them: Stop bleeping out life. Stop pretending it doesn't exist, or that it will go away if we ignore it. Deal with it. Let us deal with it, and stop trying to protect us by telling us what we should or shouldn't hear or watch. Help work on the real problems of the world for a change, instead of trying to run everyone else's lives. If you can't do any or all of that, well then...

"Fuck You."

;-)

Toys

What do you think of when you hear the word "toys"? Probably the kind that real little kids play with, like blocks or some other kind of quasi-educational or sensory-building type of thing. How about when you get older? You've got your neato action figures, spaceships and cars...all hopefully with a limited amount of small, removable parts, for your parents' peace of mind. When you get older still, you get a bike, maybe a remote control car or something like that. See where this is going? Basically, as you go on, the toys get bigger, more complicated, more electronic, and definitely more expensive! Your parents stop buying your toys at some point, and you gain employment for the purpose of achieving your long-awaited and well-deserved independence.

Oh, come on...give me a break here.

You know why you got that first job. For the same reason you get an education to have a career and get the best possible job you can, and every possibly better job thereafter:

To be able to buy your own toys! The best you can get your hands on!

Now, I know we're not really materialistic by nature. Deep down, we're all cavemen, and we just want to survive. But being thinking human beings hungry for knowledge and fun (and being as we've been progressively brainwashed by Corporate World in the last couple centuries), we just gotta have our toys.

Why do we "just gotta have our toys"? Interesting question. There's a little saying that goes "He who has the most toys wins", or something like that. Some people seem to think that as long as we own the biggest, most expensive things, that somehow we're better than everybody else. Luckily, I don't believe most people think like that. But, we still like to have our "things". I think most people just like to be able to have Life's Little Rewards for the hard work we do. I know I'm that way. I work my butt off, and if I choose to reward myself occasionally with something, be it extravagant or not, I deserve it! But even so, we drift away from the main point of this blog entry, which is, quite simply, "toys".

Most of the things we treat ourselves to in life we may consider toys, in the sense that they're things for adults to "play with", like an mp3 player, or a fancy remote control for your TV, or even a TV! These are our "big boy toys". Even new cars and motorcycles are referred to as "toys"! But what about our toys for the little kid still inside all of us? Tell me, honestly, that you don't have at least one thing stored away somewhere, or maybe even out in the open, displayed in a place of honor, that reminds you of the days when we were young, and all that mattered in the world was to play. "Want to come out and play?" "Go outside and play with your friends." "I can't wait to get home from school and play!" Brings back good memories, doesn't it?

Some guy may have an old Hot Wheels car, or a woman may still have her old Barbie. Hell, even collectors can't hide the fact that these superhero action figures they horde in their original containers are, deep down, just reminders of the toys we played with when we were kids. Some of those people may be holding on to those memories just a little too tightly, but hey...to each their own, right?

Anyway, to bring my personal experience into light:

I still have baseball cards, and they remind me of trading them back and forth with the other kids in school, putting them into the spokes of my bike, and of playing in Little League. I don't have the same cards I had when I was younger, and the ones I have now hold a certain amount of monetary value...but I have them, and they remind me.

A few years ago, I bought a Coleco Head-To-Head Baseball electronic hand-held game, exactly like the one I used to own in junior high. Compared to the video games of today, hand-held or otherwise, this thing couldn't get any more archaic in every one of its features, but I think of playing it in the hallway with a girl I knew, who I was in band with, and also played D&D with. I developed a huge crush on her, but even though she was part of our little gaming group, she was still part of the popular crowd as well, so I always saw her as being out of my league. This game even makes me think of another hand-held I used to own, a space game, and I played that one all the time with a little pest named Kyle, who ended up moving away. I don't play that Coleco game hardly at all now; in fact, I think I've only turned it on a mere handful of times since I've owned it...but I have it, and it reminds me.

I have my Rubik puzzle collection, with all sorts of different puzzles in all sorts of shapes, sizes and difficulties. They remind me of walking the halls between classes and showing off the fact that I could solve the Rubik's Cube to my classmates. Sure, I learned it out of a book, but at the time, I was pretty much the only one who did it, and I felt a sense of accomplishment that I wasn't able to get from playing on one of the sports teams or anything like that. I wasn't a jock, and I certainly wasn't one of the popular crowd, but I loved the experience of high school. All those puzzles are on a shelf in my home, and I don't mess with them nearly as much as I used to...but I have them, and they remind me.

Lastly, I have a stuffed rabbit that Mom bought for me on my first day of Kindergarten. The poor thing has been through the wringer and back again during these nearly four decades, but it's followed me through many events and changes in my life, and I wouldn't give it up for anything. I still have it, and not only does it remind me of the love of my mother, it reminds me that no matter what may happen in our lives as adults, we should never lose the child inside us.

That, my friends, is why we gotta have our toys. Not to be childish, but instead child-like. Not to sit the highest on our pile of toys and be king of the mountain, but instead to hold close to us the few toys we own and be grounded in who we are and where we came from.

So get out that toy and look at it for a long time. Remember. Forget about your bills, your car repairs, your job, gas prices, war, terrorists...just for a little while. Enjoy yourself. Be happy. Go buy yourself a new toy, even if it is just a plastic light-up Star Wars Jedi Lightsaber spoon you dig out of a box of cereal (I got the red one, by the way).

Now, quit reading and go outside and play, will ya?

Easter Fun: Marshmallow Peep art!

Just take your average, ordinary rabbit-shaped Peep:



Take a sharp pair of scissors (ask your parents for help, kids!):



Make a few careful cuts along the ears, turn upside down, and voila!



CTHULHU RISES!!!

...and isn't he delicious?



(Disclaimer: No underworldly demons were actually summoned or consumed for the purpose of this blog entry. Strict laboratory testing was completed, and ancient manuscripts were consulted, to ensure Cthulhu would not infect my soul from within my bowels. Any rumbling emanating from inside me is merely gas, and should not be mistaken for the howling of Satan's minions. Thank you for playing.)

Quotable Quotes

It's not often I'll find a quote that I can relate to; something that echoes my belief about something in particular. Most of the time, I'll just snag a song lyric that sounds nice and profound or something. Here's today's "Quotable Quote":

“The soul is dyed the color of its thoughts. Think only on those things that are in line with your principles and can bear the light of day. The content of your character is your choice. Day by day, what you do is who you become.”

- Heraclitus

Interesting fellow, Heraclitus. Sounds like he was a bit of an "infidel" in his day.

Ranting CAN make a difference!

Just as a goof, I showed a printout of my cell phone rant to my boss, since there's a couple new temps at work who are the ones who inspired the rant, and I figured he'd get a kick out of it. Only I didn't tell him why I wrote it. I just said something like "here's your chuckle for the day."

Sure enough, he comes to me later and says "I read your piece, and the first thing I thought of is those two new girls who sit in the break area with those damn chirping phones," to which I replied, "Why do you think I wrote it?"

So he says something to the extent of "Well, we've had several people complain about that noise, so I'm going to mention at tomorrow's [pre-shift] meeting that everyone needs to use their phones normally, and if they have to use the chirping feature, to take it outside."

Just when life has you on your back with its hands around your throat, you get to kick it in the nuts and get it to say "uncle"...even though you know you'll only bask in the amusement for a short time.

;-)

Life's Little Rants #5: DIE, Walkie-Talkie Cell Phones!!!

Most of you probably already know what I'm going to be talking about just by reading the title of this post, and if you're as annoyed as I am, I'm sure you'll relate, so I'll just begin by asking a simple question:

WHAT THE FREAKING HELL IS UP WITH THESE DAMN THINGS?!?

Ok...now that I've gotten that off my chest, let's back-track a little.

I understand the occasional need for a hands-free cell phone that you can use like a walkie-talkie. It works just like its name suggests: if, at that particular time, you don't have the capability of using your phone in the normal fashion (namely, the traditional "phone to ear" position), you can utilize these phones to continue talking while performing whatever task you may have been forced to undertake, at the time of inferred call.

First of all, is the call really so important that you can't ask to call them back, or them to call you back when your hands are free? Is your need to stay connected to someone or someplace so great that you can't just tell yourself "I'd better shut my phone off so I don't have to worry about calls until I get this finished"? Is anyone in this world really so important? Ok, maybe that last question is for another rant, another time...we'll discuss certain-people-in-the-world's right to exist in the future.

You know what? We can probably just disregard that last paragraph altogether. Why? Because every person I've seen using these damn phones doesn't use them the way they're supposed to anyway!!! Their hands are completely free, and instead of just holding the cockamamie thing up to their hollow head like a normal human being, they hold it out in front of them and talk into the air, like the phone is another person standing right in front of them! News flash: you are not Captain Kirk, and that is not a tricorder. Or better yet, they hold it about 5 or 6 inches away from their ears, and I have to restrain myself not to go up and push it the rest of the way against them and fasten it down with duct tape! Did you just pop in from the 16th century, Gonfeld? It's a phone! It goes up against your head! You listen to it in privacy so the rest of us don't have to listen to the inane ramblings of the mental equivalent of you on the other end! CHIRP! Wassup? CHIRP! Not much, dog. CHIRP! We goin' road trippin' later? CHIRP! Naw, man, my ol' lady done snagged my keys 'cause of what happened last time. CHIRP! Shiiiiiiiit! CHIRP! Aw, that ain't the half of it.....

Excuse me...do you happen to have a large lead pipe I could borrow?

Do they think they're trying to impress me by showing me and the rest of the world that they have this nifty miracle of modern technology? News flash update: everybody and their guinea pig has a cell phone, so if you want to impress me, show me a phone that freezes time and space, or that instantly transports me anywhere in the world, or one containing artificial intelligence that will know when I'm feeling down and call me with comforting words. Hands-free-walkie-talkie-speakerphone? Please.

You know what these people need? A special room like smokers have; their own area where they can all sit and CHIRP to their hearts' content, and we can just pretend we're next to a lovely aviary, filled with the dulcet tones of several species of brightly-colored.......dumbasses.

While I do admit to understanding the need for something like this in certain situations, I have to submit that this feature on cell phones is, essentially, useless!!! There is nothing in this world, nothing, that cannot wait until later, and that has to be broadcast into the air for all of mankind's listening pleasure. And by the same token, if the call is that important, you can certainly stop what you're doing and pay it the attention it may deserve.

Call them back. Let them call you back. I don't want to hear your conversation. Your hands are not free, so therefore you...are...busy! You are not available to take their call at this time. Please try your call again later. Goodbye!

(click)

Discontinued Food Items, Part 2

Remember me posting a while back about food or drink items being discontinued? Well, I got to looking around, and I found that Sprite Ice from Canada I mentioned, for sale on a website that sells discontinued or hard-to-find canned drinks. This stuff must be pretty rare now, because they're asking...ready for this?...

$175 for a 12-pack!!!

Holy cow! It's been discontinued for a while now, I think, so would the stuff even still be drinkable? I'd be reluctant to find out...not so much because of the possiblilty of getting sick, but more because I'd hate to see $175 spent for something I'm just going to consume in a short amount of time!

Life List, or "The World's Briefest Autobiography"

Ever wonder how autobiographies get written? Seems to me the person would have to sit down and make a basic list of events from their life, and then elaborate on those points as the book gets written. Not that I'm making a book or anything, but I thought it would be interesting to see just how many "events" I could list; things that were high or low points in my life, or just things that happened that may have affected me or been some kind of turning point, however insignificant. I think it might be slightly therapeutic, as well; a chance to see, briefly, where I've been, and where I might possibly be going. Let's reflect, and please...try not to be too bored. ;-)

1. I was born, near Chicago.
2. My first brother was born.
3. My dad left.
4. My brother died.
5. Mom re-married.
6. My second brother was born.
7. Mom divorced stepdad.
8. Mom, my brother and I moved to southern Illinois to be near Grandma.
9. Grew up and went to school in southern Illinois.
10. Found a group of friends I related to, and who helped shape me into the person I am today.
11. Learned music and to play several instruments.
12. Got my first dog.
13. First girlfriend, senior year. Didn't last long.
14. Graduated, worked in grocery store for awhile.
15. Met second girlfriend. Didn't last long either. She moved away.
16. Continued working and playing in a makeshift band with friends.
17. Another friend convinced me to join the Army National Guard to pay for college.
18. Went to college, but without Army's help. Majored in music and theater.
19. Bought first car with grant money I earned.
20. Found next girlfriend.
21. Crashed car.
22. Got job in pizza place while going to college.
23. Bought next car with grant money I earned the next year.
24. Rented a trailer with National Guard friend.
25. Girlfriend went away to another college. I continued working and going to same college.
26. Moved back home to Mom's.
27. New girlfriend...college cheerleader! Didn't last too long.
28. Found new home for dog.
29. Found next girlfriend.
30. Got serious about girlfriend and abandoned further education.
31. Car broke down. Traded in for next car.
32. Got job as houseparent in boys' group home.
33. Rented small house with girlfriend.
34. Traded in car for truck.
35. Figured out truck payments were too high. Traded down for another car.
36. Girlfriend fooled around on me. Married her anyway.
37. Moved back in with Mom for short time with new wife.
38. Finished time with National Guard.
39. My dad reconciled with Mom after many years. Moved to be with her and they re-married.
40. My stepbrother, Dad's son from his first marriage, died.
41. Moved into different rented house with new wife, closer to her parents.
42. Crashed car. Car repossessed.
43. Wife's mother died.
44. My Grandpa died.
45. Got next cheap car with help from father-in-law.
46. Got new job as customer service rep.
47. Took bankruptcy.
48. Moved into another house, still renting.
49. Dad screws wife, literally, and two divorces soon follow.
50. Car broke down. Got new car with help from Mom.
51. Got into the Internet, thanks to a spare computer from a friend.
52. Great-Grandpa died. Not long after my great-uncle (his son) died.
53. Due to Grandma's health, Mom got her car and I got Mom's.
54. Found my cat as a kitten outside the house one night.
55. Moved in with my brother and his girlfriend to share expenses.
56. My first girlfriend from high school died.
57. Traded in Mom's car for something with better gas mileage.
58. Lost job and did temp work for a short time.
59. Moved to Indianapolis and stayed with friend until I got on my feet.
60. Got job in pizza place, started training as a manager.
61. Mom died. Grandma got her car back since her health had improved.
62. Began position as manager and moved into my own apartment.
63. Met my true love online, from Canada. She flew down to visit soon after.
64. Quit job for personal reasons.
65. Flew for the first time to Canada to visit girlfriend.
66. Began working at the pizza place again, but not as manager.
67. Got second job. Worked at pizza place a few hours then went to second job at night.
68. Flew up to Canada for my second visit.
69. Grandma died. I got her car and sold my car to friend who needed one.
70. Girlfriend flew down for her second visit.
71. Because of distance and financial related issues, relationship ended.
72. Advanced in night job and left pizza place.
73. Began talking to Miss Canada again, as best of friends.
74. Started seeing a girl from work, but figured out I was just trying to fill too large a void left from before. Relationship didn't last long.
75. Took on a friend as a roommate...

...and that's where I am currently! Working, living in my apartment, and Single...With Cat.

Uuuuhhhh...you can wake up now.

Poetry Corner: "Oh, yeah?!?"

I read on a site somewhere (to correspond with what I've heard over the years) that there aren't any words that rhyme with silver, purple, orange or month. Since I hate being told something can't be done, I present to you an original work:

I have an uncle by the name of Wilbur,
who has a long beard the color of silver.
He said that nothing rhymed with "orange",
so I looked around for what I could forage.
But then he said something really hurtful,
that no word ever rhymed with "purple".
My quest lasted for more than a month,
but I still didn't find a rhyme for "month".
I guess I'll have to keep on looking
My resolve, I vow, cannot be shook.....ing.

;-)