Ugh, I feel the need to apologize to a certain Vegas magician. See, about 14 years ago, this guy was on some obscure TV show, and I was blown away by him. I thought his style was fantastic, and I went so far as to find his website and send him an email saying that he should come to Vegas. He responded with a "Thanks!" and other stuff that I don't recall now. Fast forward a few years and a few more TV spots later, and low and behold, there he is...right on the Strip in big letters! Headlining his own show. Wow!
I was able to see this show and well... lets just say it did not meet my expectations. Maybe it was an off night. Maybe it was the dove that crapped on my friend's leg during the show (yes, that happened). Maybe it was the fact that our seats were positioned in the wrong part of the theatre and we could actually see the strings. Whatever the case... I was not blown away. I was embarrassed.
Since then I have made vague negative comments regarding his show and his "new" persona to people when his name is mentioned, always feeling a twinge of guilt.
Then I started realizing all the things that he does for Las Vegas. Sure, he may be a goofball, and his tricks may have looked better on TV, but he uses his success to help others. I heard today that our local women's shelter was in need of kitty litter (they not only house women and children, but also their pets - which I think is awesome), and who was down there within an hour with about 30 bags of litter? This magician! Of course he was. He cares, and in this day and age, that's a magical thing.
I apologize for making fun of his show. I've heard that it's been revamped, and I hope they used invisible strings now...and potty trained doves!
It’s true that we are all unique products of special
ingredients (genes).In theory there are
an infinite number of alternate universes out there where each one of us have
grown up under different circumstances, but, we will never be able to know if
the other “us’s” turned out different or the same. The idea that our environment alters our
course through life is an inaccurate theory because, as of yet, I don’t believe
that anyone has successfully ventured to another dimension and back to find out
if this is true.
That’s where the idea of a collective unconscious comes
from.There are things that societies in
general seem to agree upon, no matter what society that is.Child abuse is bad – everyone tends to agree
on that for the most part (yet, it still happens).Cruelty to animals is bad (again, most
everyone seems to agree on that) but it still happens. The collective unconscious of the entire body
of living people that have walked the earth, or are currently walking it, seem
to be in the constant pursuit of peace. So, why is violence and chaos still rampant?Because “peace” is a matter of personal
definition, and the path to peace is as varied as the definition.No one likes to be uncomfortable.And, what one person may find uncomfortable,
someone else may find comfort in. So, I submit there will ultimately be no world peace.None!And the reason is because we cannot agree on a definition.
Communication used to take weeks, or even months.Now, it’s instantaneous.But, have we accepted it?
I have to share a story that’s been nagging at me ever since
it happened over a year ago.I received
a text message from a guy-friend one afternoon.It was a joke.As I was busy, I
didn’t reply right away.Later that
night, around midnight, I tapped out a reply then went to sleep.The next morning I woke up to no less than 8
missed calls from his phone number, and a recorded message from him that
morning.Apparently, his new wife had
wondered who would be sending him a text at midnight and completely flipped out
that it was a woman.She proceeded to
call me at least 7 times, but left no message.That morning, he woke up, checked his phone, saw my text (and her return
calls), and braced himself for the onslaught of her coming wrath.The voice mail he left me that morning was an
apology; he was quite embarrassed by her behavior.It’s no surprise they aren’t together
I view texting as a placeholder for conversation.We’re all super busy, and personally, if I
don’t write something down as soon as I think of it, it might not be there when
I finally have time to call someone.So,
I text.It might be midnight, it might
be 5am.If you’re on the receiving end
of one of those messages, and it happens to wake you, then you should have had
your notification dinger turned off.Do
you not realize that you are in charge of your phone?Turn it off at night if you don’t want a
text.The “placeholder” text I sent will
be waiting for you in the morning.
Back in the days of the Pony Express, do we really think that
people wrote letters only during the hours of 8am until 8pm?I think not.I imagine people wrote letters by candlelight in the middle of the
night, when their minds were clear and the house was quiet.Just like me….texting a reply to my friend
about his joke at midnight.Innocently.
Technology is moving forward at a pace that people with
small minds can’t keep up with.
I recently found this email from about a year ago buried in an account I no longer log into. Apparently, I had sent this note to myself in a stupor fueled by a monster migraine that I self medicated. No, this is not a regular occurrence. So...here is the actual text of the "note to self" that I sent a year or more ago...and I actually had some pretty good thought patterns at the time...
"This is going to be interesting. Iam in an
altered brain state writing this. I had the headache from hades earlier that
persisted through lowly devices, like tylenol and forehead tapping and pushing.
Damn, still there. Concluded the event was worthy of a lortab from my
slendering supply. Also, figured an ambien was useful too, as lortab usually
makes me wide awake. I haven't seen Golum this time, maybe I won't. He is nice
So, essentially I wanted to walk up a few steps, seee if I got a good view from
my parking spot. Look ay whats going on with other people. I've never
understood weapons collectors. So crazy. Always a family. Ultimate peer pressure
there. My family has many diverse interests. We each pursue them alone. So, the
official approach is rathet lonely but less distracting
So, in concussion drugs arent really bad. It's alll in how you use then
and what you do with them. you can be magical!!!!!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone"
You see it all, don’t you, you peeping tom?Some nights you wake me by staring in my
window wearing a big mischievous grin.Other nights you study me with a magnifying glass held up to your wide
open eye.You are so obtuse, and
impersonal.Should I call you Dr. Moon?
But, you see all.Who
sleeps?Who doesn’t?Who reads (and what)?You see my dad getting up in the middle of
the night and pouring Pepsi into a half empty jar of mayonnaise, only to place
it back in the fridge and not remember it in the morning. You know all of our
secrets, even the bad ones.You spy on
lovers, and forbidden lovers.You see
kids clutching teddy bears, afraid of the shadow that your light spells across
their bedroom walls.
You see red and blue flashing lights, with flares.You also see headlights of taxi cabs, and
blinking lights on airplanes filled with passengers that pull down the shades
to block your access (how rude of them).
Mr. Moon, I would love to have coffee with you sometime.Share your stories with me, all of them.I want to know of the secret things you see…
the polar bears, and the sleeping elephants.I want to know of the sad things you see, the reality that we weak
little subjects always shut out.Don’t
mince your words, tell me what you see!But also, tell me the beauty.Tell me of the lovers.Tell me of
the waves lapping on the forgotten shore lit by the gleam of your face.Tell me of the lioness fearlessly giving
birth to her cubs under your shield, far away from her pride.Give
me hope, Mr. Moon.
So, my "home" situation has been in flux for awhile, but I am finally settling into a routine and am finally feeling like I have a "home" again. Home is important. It's a place where you can truly be yourself, and it's important to decorate and furnish your home in a way that makes you feel relaxed and recharged while you are there.
My home, although I love it completely, is not in the geographical location that I would prefer. It's in a dry, hot desert. Ugh. The changes I'm making to it are changes that will make it more reflective of me, but because of its location, it's never going to be precisely what my heart desires. That's where my "dream house" comes in.
Last night I dreamt of my dream house. It's a house I've dreamt of many times, and I can see it perfectly in my mind's eye. In this dream of it, I'm driving along a two lane highway next to a river, and I look up, and there it is, off the side of the road, with a "For Sale" sign in front. Holy Cow! I pull over and go right up to the double wooden doors and knock on the gothic brass knocker. An older lady with white hair answers and welcomes me in to look around. I pretend like I haven't been there before (hey, it's a dream). She shows me around all the rooms that are already so familiar to me. We go out the back door to look at the pool and gardens. Then, we go upstairs to look at the master suite. This is my favorite part. The circular bed is in an alcove separate from the main area of the suite, and is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows that look out onto the most beautiful expanse of mountains and valleys imaginable. I start crying. The lady is concerned and asks what is wrong. I say it's just that it's so beautiful and I can't believe that the house is finally for sale and I have the opportunity to buy it. She is touched that "her old house" seems so special to me. I ask her how much the house is. She tells me and I offer her $80k OVER that price for it, in hopes of insuring that I be the one she picks to sell it to. I'm sure there will be other offers.
The dream ends as I attend the open house, along with many well-off snooty looking people that are interested in the house. And, I wonder if the owner is going to pick me and my offer as the one that wins. But, I wake up before she states her decision.
Does this house exist? Here is an approximation...
I was lucky enough to see Billy Idol perform recently.I’ve always loved him and it was a great
show.Plus, he’s almost 60 years old
(I’m guessing) and he looks AMAZING!I
mean, he is in SHAPE.But, I don’t want
to blog about that.What I want to blog
about is the mindset about the relationship between being in shape, and being
See, as I was excitedly telling a friend about the show, I
also mentioned that he was still in incredible shape.Her reaction? “Well, that’s what money can
buy for you.”Ummm, I had to pause at
that and change the subject.There is
something so wrong with that statement, in my opinion.Money cannot buy health (or happiness for
that matter).On the same note, being
poor doesn’t make you unhealthy.I
realize these are general statements, but for the sake of this blog I’m going
to pretend that we’re only talking about people living in the United States.
Being healthy is a choice!It’s a mindset.There are no
magic pills that melt fat (yet).I’m
willing to bet that even if you are on a limited income, you can eat
healthy.Eating healthy is cheaper than
eating poorly.You could even grow your
own produce from scraps.And, as far as
working out…running, squats, pushups, sit ups, dancing, walking, all of these
activities are free and easy to do wherever you are.Drink
lots of water!
My point is that being healthy and fit has very little to do
with your income.I have known “rich”
people that are unhealthy and poor people that are healthy and happy.It is a mindset based on self
No doubt Billy works hard on his abs.Money can’t buy someone else to work his abs
for him.They’re his!I can’t help but wonder what he would say to
someone who said that his body looked the way it does because of his
money.Would he be offended?Nah, not Billy!He would probably curl his lips up into his signature sneer, nod his
head, then turn and walk away.
Art is subjective, in its many forms, whether it be
painting, sculpture, drawing, dance, theatre, writing, or any other form of
creative expression.Therefore narrowing
down a specific definition is just as subjective, but I am going to refer to an article entitled “A Naturalist
Definition of Art” by Denis Dutton that appeared in the summer 2006 issue of The
Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism.In the article he says “characteristic features found cross-culturally
can be reduced to a list of core items”.He went on to describe twelve key items, or characteristic features,
that should be present within the questioned work for it to be considered a
work of art.These characteristic
features are summarized here:
·Direct Pleasure – the work should be a
source of immediate, experimental pleasure for the viewer.
·Skill or Virtuosity – specialized skills
were required or necessary to create the work.
·Style – a recognizable style can be
easily discerned that sets the work apart from similar works.
·Novelty and Creativity – the work stands
alone as a unique creation or idea even if based on existing ideas or similar
·Criticism – critique of the work should
beelaborate and detailed, the critique is
required to compare and contrast the work against similar works in a
·Representation – a clear, concise idea
·“Special” focus – the work should seem
“bracketed off” from the ordinary, and will demand unique attention.
·Expressive Individuality – the work
should reflect and be representative of its creator’s unique style and
discernible as such.
·Emotional Saturation – the work should
invoke varying degrees of emotion to the viewer.
·Intellectual Challenge – the work should
present a mystery or puzzle to draw in the viewer.
·Art Traditions and Institutions – the
work should be recognized as having value by institutions such as museums,
galleries, and the artist’s peers.
·Imaginative Experience – the work should
stand as a “presentation” of the imagination of the viewer.
Without going into an elaborate explanation of why this
technically is or isn’t true, I’ll just say that I’m an only child and an only
grandchild.I’ll also say that I have no
cousins.All of this has changed within
the last 4 years, but for simplicity, we’ll leave it at that.
With the above being stated, there comes the avalanche of
“stuff”.By “stuff” I mean, the various
things that end up being passed down when someone of the older generations
passes away.“Stuff” flows
downward.Sometimes its good stuff,
sometimes its weird stuff, but most of the time, it is “stuff”.The question is what to do with this stuff?
I’m a great organizer.I sometimes have trouble sleeping at night thinking about how to
organize stuff (my stuff, your stuff, her stuff, his stuff, their stuff, etc.)I also tend to play Sudoku and Search-a-words
in my head, but that’s another topic entirely.
As the only child, and only grandchild, and having no
cousins, all the family “stuff” is in a continuous flowing motion toward
me.I’m kind of like a water detention
basin.Add my only son into the mix, and
I realize that the stuff will eventually flow to him.
I want to spare him the avalanche.
So begins the process of sorting the stuff.Sorting involves tossing and/or donating lots
of stuff (hey, I can’t keep every ceramic swan, can I?).Thus enters the GUILT.Guilt, guilt, guilt!So, I pick some stuff to keep, and put into a
box to look at once a year.
So, what to do?Seriously.If it’s not the
ceramic swans, wood carved ducks, novice paintings, then its jars and jars of
buttons.I have to get rid of the
stuff.I can’t keep it all, can I?
It seems as if there is a secret club the majority of
people belong to, that I am either not welcome in or not privy to the secret
code of membership.You have to follow the rules to belong to this club,
rules that I do not know because I am obviously not a member. Membership cards to this club are passed out as frequently
as social security cards, based upon the statistics of the people that seem to
belong to it. So, what club is this?It’s
the "People That Know the Rules, and Live By Them" club..It’s the people that look at
me like I’m crazy if I say or do something that doesn’t fall within the lines of the rules set forth by their club.It’s the
people that seem amused by my struggle to understand some concept that they
take for granted because they live it every day.
And, where did these rules come from?I have some theories.One theory is that the rules came from
church.Notice, I didn’t say that they
came from the Bible - I’m pretty familiar
with those rules.No, the rules in this club seem to have come from some religious organization.Either that, or they have
been passed down from generation to generation, the foundation of the rules now as barren
as the land on the family farm that’s been handed down with them. But, by God, the members will follow them anyway because they are The Rules! To the members – I don’t know your rules. Besides, who says your rules
are right?Who says
I'm not as good as you are, even if I don't follow the "Club" rules?
I was going to write a long diatribe outlining the good and bad points of being a Virgo (listing things is a very Virgo thing to do) and thus explain why I have decided to start this blog up again. But, I have started and stopped about 8 times so far. Which, by the way, is one of the bad points of being a Virgo…we are such damn perfectionists. We know exactly what we want to say, but putting it into words is...scary for us. Good thing I decided to become a writer! Haha.
We always face the wrath of misinterpretation. Always.
So, etc. etc., I wish you, dear reader, could jump inside my head so you could know exactly what I'm meaning to say here. But, you can't. That is physically impossible. So, I'll just say it...
I'm starting this blog up again. (yes, I'm keeping my "other" one, for those of you who know my "other" one.)
I don't know how often I'm going to update this one.
And, there I go again with my Virgo-ness. Ok, in a nutshell (and, where did that saying come from anyways?)... I am starting this blog up again.