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Happy New Year to you, dear reader.

My friend Dave used to send 'round an e-mail at this time each year detailing his New Year's Resolutions. There were usually around 10 of them, and they were generally a hoot. Unfortunately, he and his family are preparing to move to Ohio from Wisconsin this weekend, so I doubt we'll be seeing that list any time soon.

The cliché about NYR(esolutions) is that no one keeps them. I'm no different. Dave certainly doesn't keep his - but who could, really? They're generally of the fantastic persuasion, hardly achievable by mortal man. The people who need to keep a NYR are the people least likely to keep them. Conversely, those least in need of making a sweeping change for their betterment are the ones most able to keep them. Therein lies the dilemma: how to switch from one type to the other?

"Set easy-to-achieve goals" is one bit of advice you hear a lot. See, Dave ought to set as one of his NYRs that he is "going to move to Ohio" according to that bit of advice.

"Have a partner help you throughout the year" is another. But what if your partner is lousy at keeping them, too? In fact, chances are good that they are. And if they are good at it, their constant hounding of you will drive you crazy and could ultimately cause a rift in that partnership.

"Set weekly goals rather than year-long ones." Like, I will watch 4 episodes of Seinfeld this week. I will attempt to feed the cats on a daily basis this week. I will not go out in public without clothing this week.

"Set measurable goals, not indistinct ones." From the previous paragraph: "attempt to feed the cats" is not specific enough. "Marking off a checklist when I've thought about feeding the cats" is better because you can look back on the week and see how many times you almost fed the cats. (Of course I'm being ridiculous - no cat in the world will let you go longer than 4 hours without feeding them.)

So there's conventional wisdom. Unconventional wisdom used to say "set goals that are the opposite of the goals you really want - that way when you fail, you'll actually be successful!" It used to be unconventional wisdom, but we've heard it so many times from TV, comics, movies, etc. that it's passed into the mundane and can no longer be considered "out there."

My advice to you? Look back on the year you just lived through. What did you like? Do more of that. What did you hate? Do less of that. Be helpful to others - at the very least, don't be a hindrance to them. Respect others. Try to leave the house at least once a day for other than work-related issues. Obey the rules in a given situation. Limit your intake of harmful things to one a week. Let those you love know you love them. Plan for your future. Don't forget the past - it made you what you are today and can guide you to your future. Eat your favorite meal at least once a month. Try new things. Recognize that each day could be your last.

Peace.

Labels: Seinfeld

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Consider Leonard Nimoy for a moment, if you will. Most of you know him as "Spock." Some of you know him as "that Unsolved Mysteries" guy. Most of you don't know him as a cowboy, an artist, or a singer (count your blessings on that last one... if you don't believe me, click here for a movie clip).

Typecasting, they call it. When you see Leonard Nimoy, you can't help but think of Spock, even if you're not a Star Trek fan. So seeing him as a homicidal maniac or a doctor or a police officer just doesn't sit right. When you think of him, you think of something in particular.

It's like that with a lot of actors. I hate seeing Chris O'Donnell in anything because I hated that they added the character of Robin to the last two Batman movies (which were bad enough without a Robin...). I'm sure there are actors you have certain feelings associated with as well.

I'm noticing that I'm having the same kind of thing with people I know. Because of an instance or a situation, when I see that person or think of them, I have a certain set of emotions or thoughts associated with them. I like to talk about what I think a person's "default" settings are (it's the computer tech in me) - how I assume they'll act in a certain situation. I'm not always right. People do unexpected things under the right pressure. But when I'm right, it reinforces those thoughts and emotions.

I think everybody does that. That's why it's so difficult to change your opinion of other people, I think. They may be a completely different person now, but you're still carrying all the other stuff that you've associated with them. That can be a negative, a positive, or a positive-negative. Negative: I expect that she'll always default to being late to meeting me. Positive: I expect he'll always be someone I can depend on. Positive-Negative: Well, I can't come up with a good example on this one, but it involves expecting good from a person who always used to be good.

Anyway, I meant for it to mostly apply to actors, so don't read too deep into me here. However, Shakespeare did say "All the world's a stage and the people merely players." :) 0 comments

It used to be that I was able to watch TV and movies and just enjoy them - you know, appreciate the story, understand the cinematography, laugh at the mistakes - that kind of thing. Somewhere along the line, though, I got turned around - lost, maybe. I started getting involved in the movies. I started getting an adrenaline rush when the good guy was in a tight spot. I started feeling victorious when I bad guy got what he deserved. But, worst of all, I started crying.

Oh, man, did I ever.

Once it got started - and I still don't know when or where - it got bad. It's not just tear-jerking scenes, it's a moment of triumph, a shared look between principal actors, a shot of a puppy that made it out of a fire alive. It's everything!

Two examples for you, just to humiliate myself further:

1) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the movie. Raphael (he's the turtle that wears red, uses "sai" as his weapon, and has the bad attitude) gets mad at his brothers (fellow turtles), Leonardo in particular, and leaves for a while to cool off, get away, whatever. While he's out, the Foot Clan (the bad guys) find him and beat the snot out of him. He puts up a good fight for a while, but they overwhelm him. The bad guys then deliver his unconscious and badly beaten body through the window of April O'Neal's apartment where the other turtles are, and there's a huge battle. April's apartment building and family store are demolished, the Turtles are beaten, and they drive out to the country to April's family farm to regroup and lick their wounds. Raphael is in some kind of coma, the Turtles are demoralized, and they don't know what to do. They're all moping around the farm, kicking at tufts of grass. Except Leo. Leo is on watch the whole time, keeping an eye on Raphael, who (whom?) they've stored in the bathtub. Here comes the moment: there's a shot of Leo, obviously worn down by grief and dismay and lack of sleep, dozing in the chair next to the tub. All of a sudden, he hears Raphael's weak voice say, "Hey, what's a guy gotta do to get some food around here?" Leo jumps up and yells, "He's awake! And he wants some food!" He then goes over to Raphael and starts to apologize to him about the fight they had before Raph left, and Raph says, "Leo, don't." Then they hug. At which point, the rest of the group shows up and Donatello says, "It's a Kodak moment."

Also at this point, I'm laughing through my tears. It gets me every time. Did I mention the name of this movie? Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Featuring people dressed up in TURTLE costumes performing martial arts and making wisecracks?

2) Mighty Joe Young, the remake. Joe (a giant CGI gorilla) has just rescued a kid off the Ferris Wheel when he's shot down/falls to the ground. His trainer? protector? friend? Charlize Theron runs over to him and starts crying because he's very obviously dead. At this point, tears are already spilling out of my eyes. Then, when Joe opens his eyes and we find out he's still alive (it is a kid's movie, after all), the tears start in earnest.

Did I mention Joe is a giant gorilla? And that he's computer animated? He's not even a REAL giant gorilla?

Maybe all this crying at movies is a sign of weakness. Maybe it's a sign of my tenderheartedness. Maybe...well, I don't know what it is. It's annoying, is what it is. There are so many huge things in my life that should (and do) cause me to cry on a regular basis - crying during a movie just seems so pointless and misplaced.

But that might be exactly why I do it - maybe I can't fully register all the huge stuff, so I react to the stuff that's put there specifically to cause me to react. It's easy to react to Rambo's visceral pain when his Vietnamese guide is senselessly killed in the jungle (no, I don't cry at that part, I'm just using it as an example). It's DANG easy to cry at Spock's death and subsequent funeral scene in Star Trek II, even though you KNOW about Star Trek III. It's easy to react to this things, because we're supposed to.

But it seems to be a whole lot easier when you're a crying fool like me.

To all of you. Hope it's a good one.

Labels: Christmas

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David Letterman visits troops in Baghdad!

How cool is that?!? 0 comments

The Sword of Damocles
as retold by James Baldwin
published in Favorite
Tales of Long Ago © 1955, Aladdin books

There once was a king whose name was Dionysius. He was so unjust and cruel that he won himself the name of tyrant. He knew that almost everybody hated him, and so he was always in dread lest some one should take his life.

But he was very rich, and he lived in a fine palace where there were many beautiful and costly things, and he was waited upon by a host of servants who were always ready to do his bidding. One day a friend of his, whose name was Damocles, said to him -

"How happy you must be! You have here everything that any man could wish."

"Perhaps you would like to trade places with me," said the tyrant.

"No, not that, O king!" said Damocles; "but I think that, if I could only have your riches and your pleasures for one day, I should not want any greater happiness."

"Very well," said the tyrant. "You shall have them."

And so, the next day, Damocles was led into the palace, and all the servants were bidden to treat him as their master. He sat down at a table in the banquet hall, and rich foods were placed before him. Nothing was wanting that could give him pleasure. There were costly wines, and beautiful flowers, and rare perfumes, and
delightful music. He rested among soft cushions, and felt that he was the happiest man in all the world.

Then he chanced to raise his eyes toward the ceiling. What was it that was dangling above him, with it's point almost touching his head? It was a sharp sword, and it was hung by only a single horsehair. What if the hair should break? There was danger every moment that it would do so.

The smile faded from the lips of Damocles. His face became very pale. His hands trembled. He wanted no more food; he could drink no more wine; he took no more delight in the music. He longed to be out of the palace, and away, he cared not where.
"What is the matter?" said the tyrant.

"That sword! That sword!" cried Damocles. He was so badly frightened that he dared not move.

"Yes," said Dionysius, "I know there is a sword above your head, and that it may fall at any moment. But why should that trouble you? I have a sword over my head all the time. I am every moment in dread lest something may cause me to lose my life."

"Let me go," said Damocles. "I now see that I was mistaken, and that the rich and powerful are not so happy as they seem. Let me go back to my old home in the poor little cottage among the mountains."

And so long as he lived, he never again wanted to be rich, or to change places with the king.

------------------------------------------
I've always taken that story a little differently than I was meant to, I think.

What happens when the sword falls? Most likely the king would be killed, but what if he wasn't? What if he had been leaning in just the right direction when it fell, and it only dehabilitated him? What if, for the rest of his life, he had to live with extreme pain? He had been expecting the sword to fall, but when it did, there was no way for him to prepare for it. Now he has to figure out how to live with it. What if he can't? What if the pain is too great, what then?

These are the things I wonder. 0 comments

I just got a bloody nose. No, nobody hit me (though I'm sure there's a huge list of people who would like to), and, no, I didn't run into something. I just get bloody noses from time to time. It's worse in winter, most likely because of the drier air, but I get them in summer, too. They used to be more frequent, but nowadays it's like once every two months or so.

You hear all sorts of advice on what to do: tilt your head back; tilt your head forward; pinch the bridge of your nose; put ice on it. Here's my advice: get some Kleenex or something similar, hold it up to your nose, and wait it out. That's the only thing that works for me.

The only problem I have with the whole nosebleed thing is that afterwards, no matter how long or short the nosebleed has been, I feel weak and a little woozy.

So there you go. 0 comments

The third installment in Peter Jackson's epic portrayal of The Lord of the Rings has...

Oh, for crying out loud - just go see the movie! 0 comments

This article addresses an issue all cat owners have wondered about: Freaky Cats

But it doesn't tell us an answer!

Regardless, I liked the bit about the science fiction story and cats seeing into the future. That's a cool idea. 0 comments

I got a couch over the weekend. It's very nice and didn't cost me anything but a little manual labor. Let me tell you something, this Senor Manuel Labor is my least favorite Hispanic gentleman, but he did all right by me this weekend. I helped a former co-worker move, and she was getting rid of her couch, so I nabbed it. I'd describe it to you, but I'm no good at description. It's that failure that's keeping me from writing the great American novel, by the way. Maybe I'll get a picture of it up for you here in a little bit. That'll be exciting, eh?

I also got my new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt in the mail today. Shweet! Do yourself a favor and check out 80stees.com and relive your childhood. You might find an A-Team shirt to go along with the Thundercats shirt you're sure to buy. Maybe I'll get a pic of my TMNT shirt up here, too. What do you think about that, huh? 0 comments

If you're not listening to your favorite music through headphones, I'd argue that you haven't really listened to your favorite music. Try it. You'll like it so much more. 0 comments

I received a spam just now that offered me great opportunities for wealth. After the hyperlink to the website I'm never going to visit, there was the following text:

As the xaw went losot the yoxob
While hurex the hino where boki
I yuno as if puyed and xifeh were yiket
Do vavoh it and dac the mujey
In zuv ruk, bip is an dakew of nihi

Can anyone interpret this for me? Am I missing some deeper meaning, or are the spammers just going completely nuts on us? Maybe they've decided to go cheap on the typing labor and have gone straight to either loony bins or pretentious art houses. I mean, what the heck??? 0 comments

I am so ticked. I only scored 8/10. Grrr.

Quiz - Are You Grammatically Incorrect? 0 comments

With the holiday season upon us, I am struck by this thought: wouldn't it be cool to be able to store up food?

Think about the last time you ate a lot. I mean a really lot. Like, you were so stuffed you could hardly move and the thought of eating anything else caused you to crinkle up your face in disgust and say, "No way! I'm not eating for a week!"

What happened the very next day? You ate. Maybe a lot.

Camels are able to go for weeks without water if they've been able to store up. I wish I could store up on food and go for a while without having to eat. Sleeping and eating are two of the biggest wastes of time I know. Eating with someone is okay, but it's not about the eating, it's about being with them. Many a good time has been had around a table: funny times, special times, sad times. Food is usually involved in a lot of your memories, have you noticed that?

I'm guessing if I could store up food, I might look funny - probably swell up after storing up, and then get gradually thinner as time drew near to fill up again. Does that happen to camels? Or do they just get thirstier and thirstier?

I dunno.

Here's the one piece of information I can impart to you, though. Bactrian = two hump camels. Dromedary = one hump. Here's how you remember them: two humps looks like a "B" for Bactrian, one hump looks like a "D" for Dromedary.

Don't say I never taught you nothin'. 0 comments

A few things before I begin:

1) The average age of my co-viewers in the theater was about 15 years older than me.
2) I refuse to go to movies anymore without a pad of paper to write down lines that strike me.
3) There was a whole list I wanted to write here, but since I didn't have paper with me, I forgot it all. Grrr.

My review:

I never was much of an "old movie" fan. I've enjoyed several old movies, but I'm not a classic movie buff. I've seen Citizen Kane and parts of African Queen and all of High Noon and several John Wayne movies, but I'm a fan of more modern movies. I guess that makes me less of a person, but I've learned to deal with that. I tell you this because I've heard of great movie couples, but I haven't seen many of them: Bogey and Bacall, Tracy and Hepburn, Cary Grant and... anyone, really. But I just got back from seeing one: Nicholson and Keaton. These two had an easy but real chemistry that made this movie more than just a standard romantic comedy for me. Maybe it's just the chance to see two great actors on one screen, but I don't think so. I mean, look at Ishtar - though I've never seen it, I hear it's terrible, and it had Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty. So stars don't make a movie - you're well-aware of this, so I won't belabor it. But Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson make this movie for me. They play parts usually reserved for younger actors and actresses in these kinds of movies. Normally watching "older people" make out would at least make me uncomfortable and at the most cause me to be sick, but I was rooting for each of them in turn, so I got past all that.

Keaton plays an uptight famous playwright, actively attempting to write her next play. Nicholson plays a famous never-married bachelor who is mostly famous for never dating anyone over the age of 30. They meet because he is dating her daughter (played by Amanda Peet), and they all converge unintentionally at a beach house in the Hamptons. Jack (to save myself headaches, I'm just going to refer to the characters by the names of those who play them, all right?) has a heart attack the first night they are all there, and they all end up at the hospital, where Jack is taken care of by Keanu Reeves, who does more believable talking in this movie than I've seen from him in a while - like, ever.

Keanu is not only aware of Diane's plays, he loves them, and he is immediately taken with her. Long story short - Jack and Amanda break up. Jack and Diane get together. Then Diane and Keanu get together. There's a play. There's a few more trips to the hospital. Finally, there's a denouement that you want, even though you're never sure it's going to happen.

This is a funny movie. There were several really big laughs that we all we participating in. Jack and Diane play familiar characters, but play them so well that you can't help but enjoy them. It's also a sad movie. It's also a romantic movie. It's a great movie, really. I recommend it...but I'll warn you that there was a bit of salty language, and we (with Jack) very briefly see Diane, well, unclothed. It's one of the most hilarious scenes in the movie, but, well, she's unclothed for crying out loud! Use your judgment on that one.

Great movie with some great lines. Here's one I do remember. Keanu leans in to kiss Diane's neck, and afterwards says, "I knew you would smell great." She replies with an embarrassed chuckle, "It's just soap." Heh. 1 comments

Companies are getting sneakier with these promotional sweepstakes. It used to be that you could open the package to find out a) There is some sort of contest and b) You didn't win it. Not so anymore.

I've had a package of Dentyne Ice gum (spearmint, in case you were wondering) for a while now, and the package is proclaiming some sort of contest. It doesn't even tell you what the possible prizes are, it just says you need to go to their website, enter in this 12-digit code and your e-mail address, and you'll get an e-mail telling you whether or not you won. This seems like a lot of work to me, but I do it anyway because you can win dinner and a couple of movie tickets.

So I get an e-mail in a minute or so with the blaring subject line of "SPARK A LITTLE ROMANCE WITH DENTYNE FIRE AND DENTYNE ICE GUM SWEEPSTAKES." All-caps is never a good sign, in my opinion. So I open it up to find this message:

SORRY. YOU ARE NOT A WINNER.

Please try again.

Click here to see Official Rules.

That's it. That's the whole message. I spent several minutes of my life to be told by a faceless corporation that I am a loser. Like I needed that to start my day. Sheesh.

I'm not a big fan of the Jared series of commercials for Subway. I mean, good job and all, but we've seen this guy for a loooooooong time now - it's been years, hasn't it? So I'm tired of him. I demand new commercials constantly. In fact, if I've seen a commercial - even one I like - more than three times, it's too much. There ought to be a law that requires either new commercials every week or no commercials at all.

Anyway, I'm tired of Jared. But they've got this new series now where people from all walks of life are wondering what Jared would do in their particular situation. There's a judge, a skydiver, and some other people. They're actually enjoyable, as far as commercials go. I like that I'm not sure I'm watching a Subway commercial until a little way in. But I'm loving this one with the skydiver. He's talking about how he's 90 seconds into a jump and both of his chutes fail and then he wonders what Jared would do. Quick cut to Jared. He is screaming. He takes a small break and then screams again. Then back to the skydiver and then to the Subway logo.

Heh.

It strikes me as funny, and I don't care who knows it. 0 comments

I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. At different times it was a fireman, a policeman, an actor, a writer, a teacher - I don't even really remember anything specific. Once I got to high school Junior-year math, I was determined I was going to be a high school math teacher. Then came Senior Math and I changed my mind. Teaching still appealed to me, but Pre-Calc had sucked the desire towards math right out of me. I also took Physics that year - another grand mistake I'll regret forever. Everyone else in the whole class except for 4 of us guys took Speech. I sat in Physics with Whasun Oh, the tiniest, most difficult to understand Korean woman I have ever met, not understanding a single thing we talked about the whole year. It was so over my head, that I couldn't even understand how over my head it was. The only reason I passed the class is that Miss Oh was easily talked into helping us on tests - she gave us formulas and out-right answers. In turn, we ran her ragged and sang an off-key version of "Happy Birthday" on videotape for her father in Korea. I'm sure that really boosted his opinion of his daughter's career path...

I headed into college planning to become an English teacher. I loved to write and thought it would be a good mix of the teaching desire I got from math and something I was actually not as lousy in. One of my English teachers in college made a lifelong impression on me: Miss Wilfong. I had always skated by in high school - I was smart enough that I could pass tests just by sitting through classes. I should have been valedictorian or salutatorian or KingKongatorian or whatever the highest one was, but I never applied myself. With even a minimal amount of work I could have achieved straight A's. I found I had to work a little harder in college, but not much...except in Miss Wilfong's classes. She flat out told me I was being lazy and that she expected more of me. For some reason, I responded and gave her more. My best term papers were written for Miss Wilfong. When I got to Literary Criticism with her, I felt terrible. I didn't get it. It was over my head, much Pre-Calc had been. I understood what symbolism was, but I sure as heck couldn't pick it out on my own. Even when it was pointed out and explained to me, I had trouble agreeing with it and accepting it. I wanted to give her so much better of an effort, but I just couldn't grasp it. I think she sensed my frustration and she backed off a little, but I still knew I was disappointing her. I took 7-8 classes with her, and that's the one I remember with dread. The one she probably remembers with dread is the day in American Lit when we were studying Emily Dickinson and I stuck my hand up and said, "Miss Wilfong, did you know that a majority of Emily Dickinson's most famous poems can be sung to the tune of the Gilligan's Island theme song?" Immediately there were 30+ heads bowed over their books, searching for words to hum to the tune. But it got worse - for the rest of my career in college, I made it my goal to find someone in that class and prep them with same question. I think it was about the third semester that I went back to my prep-ee for a report and he said, "I didn't have a chance to say it. When we started studying Emily Dickinson, she said it herself." That's one of my all-time best memories.

I stayed on-track to teach English until I got to my observation. I grew up in a private school. The only place that was open during my Spring Break was a public school... it was a rude awakening and turned me off of teaching.

I turned to speech. I loved being in plays and being in front of people. But I also had one of the most frustrating semesters ever, girlfriend-wise, and I turned in a lot of D performances in my speech classes, which meant I would have to take them all over again.

I decided to take stock of what I had the most credits towards. It turned out to be "General Studies." It's known as a "pre-professional" degree, because you can go on to law school or medical school with it as your base degree. Or, you can do what I did and use it to learn a little about a lot of things.

I went on from there to be a student activities coordinator, a webmaster, and then a computer tech. And that's where I am now, except on my fourth different stab at it.

I like my job. Really, I do. I've always liked computers, and it seems like a good fit for me. Some days I'm struck with how unworthwhile it is, I'll have to admit. I've always respected teachers - there's a job that's worthwhile: turning out the next Einstein or Reagan or Steinbeck, instilling dreams, fomenting hope. Me? I make sure you can get to your PowerPoint presentation that's stored on your network drive. I explain to you why that particular website won't work. I tell you that your floppy disk has gone bad and your files are unrecoverable. Sure, I'm needed, but a trained monkey could do my job, I've always said. It's just a job. It's not a dream. It's not even dream-inspiring. It's something that needs to be done, like serving food and cleaning toilets. Without people like me, the world would grind to a halt.

No little kid's going to answer "Computer tech!" when you ask him what he wants to be when he grows up - unless he's under the misconception that all a computer tech does all day is play network games. It's not a career that people aspire to, not even me. Look back a few entries and you'll see my dream. But even that - what's the point?

I know, I know - how nihilistic and bleak can a guy be? Turns out - quite a bit. I still haven't figured out what I want to be when I grow up. But I'm slowly whittling down the things I don't want to be, so I guess that's something. 0 comments