brainstormer

Sensitive Past on the Blink

2009-11-19T19:12:28-05:00

1)The other day I was extra sensitive. The slightest disturbance might have made me break down and cry. A child speaking. A chatty group of women. Someone touching me accidentally or intentionally to get my attention. Anything might have made me react adversely. I might have cried. I might have "freaked". I might have needed a hug. In any case, I don't know why I was so...touchy and on the verge of a breakdown. I wanted to be home sitting by the rainy windows in something warm and cozy with a cup of cocoa and a cat to pet.

2)It's one thing to see a face from your past that you miss dearly. It's a whole other experience to see someone you wish you never had to see again. I recently ran into a guy I was hoping would disappear from memory. It was a time when I was a bit "messed up in the head" like a bad collector. I knew him well then. I thought he was gone for good. Then, the other day, I saw him again. And, I felt...icky. I felt like a smoker who quits and then smells someone's cigarette nearby. I could feel the old feelings creeping...reaching out to me with shadowy hands. I wanted to get away and wash him from my memory again.

3)My old reliable TV is on the blink, apparently. Yep, that's all I had to say about that part Just not happy to see my old friend turn off every time I try to turn it on. I now know heatherslife's pain:P Though, she doesn't/didn't watch hers like I did mine.

4)One additional thing... As of the power outage, or "the blackout of 2009"(which reminds me of when my PC was down and I was unable to come here from Nov. 2007 to Jan. 2008), my profile seems to be reverted back to how it was in August. Back then I was just back from my summer vacation and had started talking to a new member here. Since then, she has vanished completely. I remember looking at my profile picture. I posted it for another member who I was missing, as well. Now, I am, again, missing them both:

Road Trips with Brainstormer # 19--part 2

2009-11-15T23:14:44-05:00

[If you haven't read part one, go here.]

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

PART 2

We both didn't want to waste time on little details. So, we simply agreed to get back on the road, leaving two halves of an apple where we sat. But, our bikes had mysteriously moved under some nearby oak trees. [Or, we forgot where we left them.] As she bent over to pick up her bike, I found myself gawking at the underside of her dress like an ogling dork. Suddenly, something struck her on the back of the head.

"Owh!" she bellowed and turned to find the culprit.

We both searched the grass and trees til we saw a cute little brown squirrel with its beady eyes all aglow and its whiskers bristled as it waved its tail playfully in the air.

"Awwwe. Look at that lil guy," she wimpered while rubbing her head gently.

I didn't believe it when I saw the source of her newfound affection pick up an acorn and toss it at her.

"Hey!" she snapped.

I thought it was somewhat funny til I noticed a small army of squirrels lining the tree branches. [You see that sort of thing in cartoons and greeting cards. But, you never get the big picture til you experience it in person.] I decided to make a hasty dash for my bike. When she saw me scrambling toward the road, I blurted, "Duck and run!"

But, before she could get her hands around the handlebars, the army had begun their acorn attack. Again, I found it strangely amusing to see acorns raining down on someone. But, I didn't want her to get hurt. I just had to pray she would get saddle her bike safely and swiftly and join me on the path. When she threw me a frustrated look and started to pedal ahead of me while groaning, I stifled my laughter by inhaling my lower lip.

We took the next leg of our journey at a much slower pace. The stretch of road we travelled looked oddly familiar though this was our first time taking it. The sun played with our eyes through the branches of neighboring treetops.

"You're awfully quiet back there," she said as if we had been talking all the while. [That made me a little self-conscious. Thus, I remained silent.] "What's the matter? Did I do something wrong? Agh!!"

[Who was she kidding? If anyone was to be accused of being in the wrong, it was me for laughing. But, I didn't bother to discuss that if she didn't mention it.]

I tore myself from my meditative wandering to find a trio of colorful gnomes assaulting her. Not a car, house or other soul in sight. And, a threesome of misfits from a fairy tale(conicular hats and all) were attempting to strip my partner from her bike. They tore the ribbon from her hair and unbuttoned her dress. [Horny little bastards, I thought.] I had to take a moment from trying to separate the small mob to appreciate the natural beauty of her flowing locks. Then, I hopped off my bike and ran to see what I could do.

I never was much of a fighter and not sure how I would handle three small opponents with "knobby" noses and rosy cheeks. But, I tried. I started by using words. That did nothing, at first. Then one gnome--dressed in a blue tunic with a red hat--turned and charged at me. He had to be three feet tall with the hat(which was at least a foot tall itself). I put my hands out to protect myself as I tried to figure out his next move. Grabbing my left hand, he twisted the two smallest fingers and flashed his ugly yellow teeth. Before he could bite me, I yanked my hands back. He then took this opportunity to kick me in the shin. His toes must have been made of stone, hiding within that soft red shoe.

"Little punk!" I blurted and then threw my right foot at him. I missed the first few times as he danced around me. But, when it hit, I thought I had punted him across the road by the force to his midsection. Instead, he just tumbled back toward my partner and the other two pests. [One dressed in yellow and green. The other in red and brown.] This, of course, riled his team. And, all three came rushing toward me, looking to beat me senseless. I tumbled to the ground and cried out as one started pulling at my hair. I feared they might tear my pants apart and leave me cold and naked on the side of the road til I saw the most beautiful sight appear over them.

Like a glorious angel of vengeance...like a mountain lion setting its sights on a wounded deer...my partner raised her hands high in the air with fire in her eyes and latched onto one of the troublemakers. Giving him a good shake, she then threw him to the ground like she just scored a touchdown and stomped on his round belly with the heel of her shoe. "Take THAT, you little freak!"

It was the most beautiful and violent thing I had seen her do in such a long time. The fallen gnome nearly wet himself as he scrambled to his feet and ran for the hills. [And, then there were two. "Little Bastard Blue" and "Seeing Red".]

The gnome with the red tunic held me down while the one in blue proceeded to punch me in the face with his tiny fists. It didn't draw blood, but it definitely tenderized my face into a red pulp. Just when I expected my nose to start bleeding, the melee stopped. I stopped flailing my hands and turned to find the pests back on top of my partner. The one in blue was "copping a feel" with a chirp-like chuckle while the other was poking under the base of her dress. [How did they topple her so quickly?]

As I looked to see the terror in her face and heard her squeal, I rolled to my feet, brushed some debris from my clothes and then ran to lend her a hand(and foot). I had managed to pull the one from under her dress when I heard a shrill din in the air. The noises made by the gnomes and my partner faded into silence as I turned to see a swarm of little shadows flapping toward us. In the blink of an eye, they were all around us. Birds, fluttering and chirping wildly. I feared they were just another nuissance til I saw them focus their assault on the pestering gnomes. Soon, the little "bush men" popped up and ran after their teammate with handfuls of colorful feathers swarming around their heads like angry bees.

When the commotion had ended and my pulse has steadied, I helped my partner to her feet and helped her brush the grass and leaves from her hair and dress. I let her pull the ones from her bra(which I tried not to focus on til she was able to refit the dress buttons into their holes). She seemed to be of mixed emotions as she felt around under her the white band fitted around her waist. [And, she didn't say anything about my battered face or how we might explain our run-in with "fictional" characters.] Her frustration and/or embarrassment quickly melted as she smiled shyly and thanked me for my assistance. [Though I didn't do much in my opinion.] Trying to put some order in her frazzled hair, she searched the area for her ribbon. But, it appeared to be missing. Then, we both heard a faint fluttering sound and turned to see one of the birds(with yellow and black feathers) return. It dove toward the ground and then flew over our heads. I saw the piece of blue-and-white cloth in its tiny claws and watched as the creature dropped it into my partner's hands.

"How about THAT!" she said with a beaming smile. "You don't see THAT everyday." [She took the words right out of my mouth.]

As she started to wave goodbye to our departing little "friend", I found myself joining in half-heartedly. I tried to smile. I just didn't know what to think of the whole situation. It was all so surreal. But, before I could dwell on it too long, she grabbed me by the collar of my pale green, short-sleeve shirt and gave me a "fiery" kiss. I saw stars(or fireworks). [Or, maybe, it was just the sun still stinging in my eyes.]

"Are you ready to go home?" I asked while crossing my legs.

"Ha! Only if you want to admit defeat!"

I stood somewhat stunned as I watched her run to retrieve her bike.

"You're gonna have to beat me!" she shouted while refitting the ribbon around her hair and then started pedalling as fast as she could.

I took a moment to catch my breath and then ran after her. [It was one of those moments I wished I could have been playing "Everlong" by Foo Fighters.] I didn't know where we we going, but it was a race. However, I quickly realized that all the action we had already experienced was taking its toll on me. I struggled to catch her and watched as she drifted out of sight without ever looking back.

[ To be continued...]

[If you feel up to the challenge, post/add your own ending to this story and let me know you did and where to find it.]

Disney's A Christmas Carol--brief movie review

2009-11-15T01:30:29-05:00

It was a great 3D movie experience. The movie motion was amazing. As were nice little touches like the flame of Christmas Past and the shadows of Christmas Future. Jim Carrey plays Scrooge but has a bit of CG clay on his face which doesn't look right. Still, the filmmakers captured expressions and personalities rather well. A first for Disney, perhaps, to make a movie without characters having "perfect" or exaggerated appearances. You should all see it in digital 3D. Though, don't bring children under the age of 10. They might get frightened or even traumatized by some of the spirits.

Ha! How's that for a movie review? Short attention spans...bah! Humbug.

--brainstormer, free-lance movie critic
[Balderdash! Humbug!]

Give and Take 11-14-09

2009-11-14T00:52:04-05:00

Hope Springs Eternal recently wrote about "springs and sponges". Givers and takers. And, it got me thinking about all that I give and the little that I take. I think I am more of a giver than a taker. And, what I give is not always appreciated. It is not understood. And, what I get is often not enough to satisfy me. I am not greedy. I just want more to come of my time and actions.

I strain my brain trying to find the words to express my feelings. My frustrations with the internet. Why am I even here if all I am going to do is get upset, complain, make others upset/mad...and go nowhere beyond chatting on a website? No pictures. No snail mail. No face-to-face time. Why do I want to live on an interactive cartoon? That is what this all is if all that is shared are words on a screen. It's no better than those kid toys they sell with internet links to websites where you pretend to be a fairy or something and get chat responses from "answering machines".

What sense does it make to befriend someone online and never see their face or meet in person? If your life is empty...void of "real" friends you can spend time with doing things...and you do all your socializing online...doesn't that drive you crazy?

I am sure many of you "smarter" folks here will either humor me with false kindness or tell me it's time to "grow up" if this is what I do. But, I don't want to hear either one.

I am just venting what is troubling me right now. And, I'm seeing how silly and pointless even that is, lately. I want to scream. I want to shout. I want to cry. And, then I find it all is for nothing. Why do I bother? Why do I invest my time, talent and heart into people who never will be a part of my real life because they either choose not to be or cannot be for other reasons? Why?

I cannot live on faceless chat and pen pal mail alone. Once again, I am seeing the internet as a gift and a curse. I might be better off not having spent time with all these people. I wouldn't meet them in real life without traveling, anyway. So, why carry thoughts of them? Why?

Go ahead and say you love everyone like a Tickle Me Elmo. Will you ever feel the real thing? Or, is it just what you choose to believe? If you believe Elmo "loves you oh so much"...are you a foolish child? Or, are you really loved? Open your eyes. I am tired of listening to all the "elmos". Even if what is said is genuine...I can't take not having more, anymore. This site is a place to share our lives. If I had something to share, I'd probably have people to share it with, too. So, why say it here? And, why would I make time to write about what I am busy with if I have people in my daily life to share it?

Give Him His CHU CHU!!!

2009-11-12T20:31:16-05:00

Recently, I was at one of the local outlet stores where they sell all sorts of things. I was on a mission. I wasn't wandering the aisles for long before I heard a small boy wailing so fiercely. I thought he might be possessed. I was going to fetch some holy water to douse him. But, then I heard him shout, "CHU CHU! I want a CHU CHU! Give me my CHU CHUUU!!!"

When I finally saw the parents' faces, I noticed they showed no concern or interest in the red-faced tike. Over and over the kid kept wailing, "CHU CHU!! I want my CHU CHUUU!!!"

After about five minutes of this, noticing the other customers in the area were fleeing for their sanity, I began searching the toy aisles for a train with my own eyes watering from the shrill sounds. Any train. Electric. Wooden. Plastic. I just had to find that kid a train to make him shut his yap! But, no matter where I looked, I could not find a single train!

"CHU CHU!!" he cried again and again in between bouts of wailing. I was going to throw a fit. I should have just walked away like the other customers. But, I was on a mission.

I finally found a lone Thomas train toy sitting in a credit cart and ran to hand it to the boy, thinking I might make him and those around the bothersome tot smile. Just as I was about to present the "prized toy", I saw the mom huff in frustration and pull a small bag from her purse. It was full of gummy bears. She let the boy jab his hand into the bag and pull out a colorful bunch.

THAT's what he wanted all along. His CHEW CHEWs. UGH! [And, after he had some, he STILL was wailing. I honestly think all the sugar was messing with his tolerance.]

A New Appreciation for Musical Chairs

2009-11-10T19:37:38-05:00

I remember the games played in my youth whether they were for school or summer groups. I remember "Duck, Duck, Goose", Tag, 500(where one of a group would toss a football up a slanted roof before all try to catch it for some fraction of 500 points), etc. One game I was not fond of was musical chairs. Sure, I enjoyed playing. But, like many things in life, I hated losing. My reflexes were never that sharp. And, my small size made me easy prey for being shoved out of the chairs' way by someone bigger.

Now, I am watching this Ellen show(ellentv.com) on TV when I probably should be grocery shopping, and they showcase this new(to me) version of "Musical Chairs"! Ellen had a half-dozen women put on creative blindfolds while sitting on fabric-covered stools. Then, she has them stand and starts the music. With an extra helper(some odd-looking guy), she moves the stools out of their paths and begins rearranging them while the women wander(or dance) around this carpet section. When Ellen stops the music, the women scramble over each other to find--not just sit on one set in a circle--a stool. Sure, you have to play a lil "not-so-rough" to avoid injury, but it sure looked far more fun than the original game. I thoroughly enjoyed the idea(with a shred of concern for injury).

So, if this is new to you(as it is to me), maybe you will try this the next time you are hosting a party and looking for new game ideas.

[The other new party game idea I acquired recently is much the same as this website's present scavenger hunt(which is also reminiscent of the traditional one seen on "The Simpsons" when Mr. Burns and the rich Texan chase around town collecting things including a picture of them with a smiling child). Only, the one I heard about involved the host/s organizing a list of objects around the neighborhood and then sending out all party guests with their digital cameras to snap pictures of themselves with the various objects as they found them at night.]

[And, once again...I feel the echo of deja vu. I feel as if I have posted/written this all before...]

Road Trips with Brainstormer # 19

2009-11-09T22:34:09-05:00

Road Trip # 19,
"Why DO Birds
Suddenly Appear?"
OR
"So Happy Together"

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

There is a certain peace and refreshment that comes with spending time in nature. Away from cities and traffic. Among trees and animals. A common bike path with uncommon encounters. That is what my partner and I shared one day. And, it did wonders for our "creative relationship".

On a warm autumn afternoon(roughly sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit) when a cold breeze was the only enemy of sun and crisp, damp leaves of all colors were littering the streets, we had found a trail that seemed to run on forever. Neither of us was up for such a challenge. Yet, both of us were open to the endless possibilities. We fueled each other, increasing our own stamina with consistent verbal and physical stimulation. A smile. A playful shove. A taunting remark(without personal offense). These were our cattle prods. And, with them, our legs seemed invincible. [Convincing my partner to wear a blue-and-white polka dot sun dress with matching bow tied around her ponytail and a pair of black mary jane shoes didn't hurt, either. I wasn't nearly as fond of wearing a brown sweater vest and tan dress pants. I'm more of a sweatsuit or tshirt and shorts kind of guy. But, it was a bet of sorts. And, I aimed to win. If I had another chance to do it again, I would probably try to have us both wearing some other kind of crazy costume like superheroes or animal suits.]

It didn't take long for hunger to strike its first blow. We had pedalled considerably hard for about a half-hour when we came upon an apple orchard. The moment the silly thought of having her wear a special outfit for the day crossed my mind, I imagined us wandering through an apple orchard. It all started coming together when she turned to smile at me excitedly and said, "Let's stop here!"

Even though it was what I wanted in my fantasy-oriented mind, my gut told me this was not a smart idea. Deep down, I felt this would be what slowed us down. We would become lazy from eating the fruit(or have an "accident"), and the ride would come to an abrupt end. Still, whatever magic we had cast with my imaginative ambition was working(on me). The sun's warm glow. The blanket of leaves like freshly fallen frost crunching under our feet. The trees full with fruit. They all played their part. I was craving her kiss almost as much as I now wanted a big red apple.

Then, I realized...this was someone else's property. We were on some stranger's land and plotting to snatch produce from their harvest. [Were we any worse than squirrels or racoons?] I did not want to trespass. But, "Eve" knew just how to make me her "partner in crime". And, unless I was imagining things, there was music in the air. A harp...or flute. I shook my head and blinked a few times while following her up along the string of trees.

"Have a look at THIS!" she boasted with a beaming smile and handed me the largest red apple I had probably ever seen. It took both my hands to fully grasp it.

"This...this is not normal," I replied in amazement. I wondered if it was the result of genetic manipulation. But, I wouldn't give that much thought as I found my lips drifting ever so slowly toward the glossy red skin littered with brown freckles. Before my teeth could satisfy their aching curiosity, I heard her take a bite. I looked up to see the juices running down the sides of her mouth. When our eyes met, she started laughing and wiped the mess away with the back of her left hand. Quietly at first. Then, she covered her mouth with blushing cheeks and snorted audibly. She leaked a little drip from her nose. I just kept staring with the apple pressed to my lips til she turned quiet again and did the same.

"Well? Are you gonna eat it or what?"

I sighed and took a cautious bite. The flavor was amazing. Quite possibly the perfect apple. I stretched my jaw as far as it would go and took a bigger bite. Then, I was just as giddy as her. We both started giggling as if we were Hansel and Gretel(?) pecking at a gingerbread house. She laughed and scrambled toward me before wrapping her arms around and silently signaling me to lower my apple and kiss her. A sloppy, "apple-juiced" kiss.

And then, it happened. We both found a seat under one of the trees and put our heads together. When I yawned the first time, I knew we were in trouble. She just kept telling me how nice it was to share such a moment. I couldn't exactly disagree. Yet, the frost on the ground was seeping into my pants. And, I felt a tad foolish for not trusting my gut. The strange thing is...I don't remember falling asleep.

The next thing I recall was us back on our bikes further down the trail with leaves snowing over us. She laughed each time one smacked me in the face(which made me laugh). We started competing for first position, again. And, as usual, the one who boasted the most took the first spill. This time, it was me.

I turned my head long enough to miss some little thing in the road and found my bike teetering on the front wheel. Before I could stop myself, I tossed off to the right of the gravel path. Luckily, I only stained the right knee of my pants lightly. But, the skin underneath certainly felt tender and sore.

While sitting under a small tree and holding my leg, she hopped off her bike and rushed to play nurse. Thankfully, she packed just enough in the little brown bag strapped to her bike seat. Though my knee was in mild-to-moderate pain, I was elated to have her tend to me. She raised my pant leg and made a few worrisome sounds while thumbing the skin around the sore spot and then went to work. Just looking at her for that time took my mind off the discomfort. When she was done, she gently replaced the pant leg and told me I should be okay.

"Thank you, nurse," I said coyly. "Now, would you mind helping me back to my feet?"

Her hand felt warm and firm. A strong, heroine's grip. My heroine. And, as we came together beside the road, our eyes met. We stood there silently for a moment, letting the sounds of nature fill our heads. And, then, we drifted into a kiss. I think standing beside the road where anyone might come along made it awkward.

Suddenly, she gave me a gentle push and started running away from the road with a playful laugh. I paused to watch her hair and dress tossing in the cool shadows and warm light. When I grew tired of standing still, I gradually chased after her. She spun around, saw me coming and laughed again as she tried to out-maneuver me. We darted around trees and stretches of bristled bushes. The crispness of the grass and leaves invigorated our feet and senses.

When my zeal must have become too much for her, I heard her cry out and saw her tumble to the ground. She looked exhausted(or, at least, winded). I didn't hesitate to lunge on top of her and smiled at her explosion of laughter. Her hand accidentally brushed the right side of my face. Realizing I would react, she made a silly frightened face, and we began to wrestle in the grass. We had completely forgotten where we were and focussed on each other. Neither of us liked getting leaves in our hair(even if we denied it).

Strangely, the laughter stopped and we were silent, again. I found my right hand upon the buttons at the base of her dress' neckline as I sat straddled over her. She looked down past her chin and then found my left hand with her right. Linking fingers, she brought the two together, and I began to undo the buttons slowly before peeling the blue flaps apart to reveal her lacey white cotton bra. I could feel her breathing heavily. The heat rising from her body wafted up my nose. I hesitated in question til I tried to read the intense look in her eyes. Her hair spread out around her head like rays of sunshine. I blinked and found myself laying on top of her with our lips intertwined.

[Slap!]

I shook my head and found my partner and I still sitting under the apple tree.

"Honey? You're doing it again."

"Wha? What? What was I doing?"

"Daydreaming I suppose. What else would you call it? Your eyes were closed, and you didn't say a word."

[To be continued...]

[Disclaimer: This and the following Road Trips were written before my decision to no longer write stories for this site. It is up to me if I change that decision. Some things I write are a waste if not read by someone. So, here it is.]

Good Grief, Aaron Rodgers!

2009-11-09T19:17:23-05:00

I have been a Green Bay Packer fan since Brett Favre started in 1992. Before then, I didn't give the team much thought. The man made himself a legend. But, with all his records, he did little for the team beyond one Super Bowl win.

But, enough about him.

Now, they have Aaron Rodgers in the "driver seat", and he seems like an okay guy. He has proven himself a few times. But, he also continues to make mistakes like a scared cat. He doesn't run as often as he could. Though, that is understandable when you know you don't want to get "railroaded" by some of the big guys on the defensive line. But, he has taken more hits than anyone I know, lately.

The most recent game pitted the Packers against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Now, if this team was on the same page as the Packers(4-3), I would have been okay with the Packers losing. But, no. The Buccaneers have not won a single game this season. The coach is a rookie. The quarterback is a bumbling rookie. And, still, this sad excuse for a team beat the Packers.

Did anyone see how low Aaron Rodgers' head was hanging between his shoulders as he walked off the field? He could have kissed his own crotch!

As I heard the radio at work playing music best known as part of the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, all I could say was...

GOOD GRIEF,
AARON RODGERS!!
YOU BLOCKHEAD!
YOU GET A ROCK!

If You Can't Say Anything Nice

2009-11-04T12:57:38-05:00

I am often reflecting on the "politically correct" concept of "If you can't say anything nice, don't speak". [Or, any variation of the phrase.] This time, I thought I'd examine some example situations. Let's look at how only nice words might fail to answer questions or solve a problem. [Or, how we all might strive to alter our words in the heat of the moment, if possible, and yet solve the problem rather than letting it continue.]

1)Someone you know is doing drugs. You know want them to stop for their own good(and your own health and relationship with the person). But, if you say anything to make them stop, (if you are self-conscious)you feel like the bad guy or you are regarded a negative pressure force which only makes them retract further into that drug-induced world.

"I hear you are doing heroine now. That's really...great. But, some of us feel left out. Could you possibly share some?" [And, then(when they give it to you), simply dispose of it.]

2)Someone is a murder suspect. [I know. Extreme situation.] Now, if the investigative team doesn't press the suspect for information because their assumptions might be incorrect, they don't get the answers they need. This is a bit of a grey area, morally. But, how does one properly get such information without pressing questions? Sometimes evidence is scarce and time is of the essence.

"Some of the guys down at the precinct think you might have done it. So, would you mind coming with us and answer a few questions? I know. Who are we to accuse. But, it would really help us if you played along nicely. Jimmy here is going to put some handcuffs on you. It will be okay."

3)An employee is a)secretly stealing from the company or b)telling people outside the company company secrets that put the company at risk(among other possible infractions). Now, if the owners/bosses of said company don't take action and say something to the employee, 1)the employee might be fired without any clue how or why it happened(partly because they are oblivious to the negativity of their own actions) and/or this activity could continue and further threaten the company.

"We really like having you working with us. And, we like what you have done here. We'd just like to help in any way possible that doesn't put the company in jeopardy. So, could you not do what you are doing almost every day behind our backs? That would be greaaaat."

4)Your family is harping on you in a major way. You cannot deny that you still have feelings for them(because they are still family). But, they do not let up and make every moment of your life uncomfortable(whether or not you are truly guilty of something that should stop). If you don't speak up, it will continue. But, how do you nicely get them off your back without walking away and ignoring the situation?

"You people are near and dear to my heart. But, my heart is breaking just being in the same room as you. So, could you please stop talking so harshly and threatening my well-being? You know that old saying: 'If you can't say anything nice'."

5)You've just discovered that your lover is "cheating". You a)become so angry that you could literally beat him senseless OR b)become so distraught you could commit suicide but want to cry out and shout your feelings at him. How do you nicely convey your feelings and find closure to the problem without committing a homicide(or suicide)?

"Honey, I know what you are doing. And, it does not please me. And, obviously I do not please you. So, let us separate and go please ourselves without creating further emotional and economic upheaval. Peace be with you."

6)[Flip side] You no longer feel love and/or loved by your partner. You want out but are afraid of being on your own again and admitting these feelings. How do you solve this problem nicely? Do you remain silent? "Cheat" by finding someone else behind your partner's back?

"Honey, I no longer share the emotion that is called love with you. It is vital that we separate now and not allow feelngs to become further blackened by denial and confusion. We both will be just fine. It was not meant to be. Go in peace."

How does one nicely deal with anger(and/or "road rage") without burying it and putting strain on the brain?

How does one nicely address someone who has stolen from them?

How does one nicely confront their children when the children have done wrong to such an extent that it angers a parent?

How does one nicely handle ignorance, disobedience and/or lying to their own face(talking behind their back uncovered)?

You may dismiss these as extreme cases or stretching of the old saying. But, I see them as the difference between getting to the truth and allowing lies to fester. Between getting answers and making excuses. Between solving a problem and letting tangles and snags become worse.

Smoking Conspiracy Theory

2009-11-03T20:46:25-05:00

In the past few years, I have heard several discussions on television regarding smoking cigarettes. Public places have started putting bans on indoor smoking. Cigarette prices continue to rise.

And yet, recently, I find a few cases of an underground smoking movement perhaps in the works.

First, I was shooting pool with a coworker at a downtown pool hall(overpriced) when I heard the owners offering free Camel cigarettes to those who presented their IDs at some special counter. FREE cigarettes? Like my clothes, nose and lungs were not full of smoke from the atmosphere already?

Second, I was out walking today and found several Newport cigarette packages(all the same white and teal color) scattered on the ground. Not all in one place. One here. One there. But, in a four-mile radius, I came across over a half-dozen. I highly doubt someone robbed a gas station or some other seller. So, what gives? And, why just this brand(package)? Is there something I should know about for the sake of my health? Is there a momentum/undercurrent competing with those sanctioning the use of cigarettes? Is a war brewing?

Just something about which to think.

Stupid Competition

2009-11-03T20:38:55-05:00

Stopping at my favorite local Target store today, I had planned on picking up a few things and then proceeding to the nearest Pick N' Save grocery store for my dailies. Recent events have driven Wal-Mart and Target stores mad. They have started pushing full force to carry more and more variety like a pair of dueling fencers or knights. This swordfight has brought coffins to Wal-Mart and a host of grocery items among other new things to Target.

Choices. That's the problem for many(myself included at times). If you go shopping, you should always go with a detailed plan. Know what you are buying and go get it. Do NOT go empty-headed and walk the aisles. Not that having options/selection is a bad thing, but the more I thought about it...the more I wondered why all these stores are doing this.

What is the point of having everything in one store? Sure, convenience. But, it also defeats competition and specialty shops. Reduces it to location scrambles and distorts perception of quality and authenticity. No longer will you know quality Italian from mass-produced and imported generic. [Restaurants already are diversifying. Mexican, "Ethnic" and "American" options can be found in a number of Chinese-American and Greek restaurants.] Whoever gets to that plot of land first gets customers and the majority of the work force.

Pretty soon, it won't be about who carries what. It will be a game of Othello with companies racing to lay claim to every free space just to add another store and grab the folks attention from that part of town. But, if that results in a Target and/or Wal-Mart on every street, just think of all that merchandise. Surplus, even. Wasted because there weren't enough people with enough money or space to buy, store and use it all. Sodium and preservative levels sure aren't decreasing. When is enough enough? And, what DOES the future hold? What if one bigger company suddenly appears to buy the two big dogs? Then, it will be an enormous monopoly. What country will own the entire supply chain for the USA? And, will any authentic culture survive? Or, will mass-production and overseas trading decide what is genuine, quality Chinese food?

Not So Fast, Charity

2009-11-03T14:42:53-05:00

A while back, I posted something about wanting to thin out my collections of toys, videos, etc. to lighten my load and play Kris Kringle to those who might actually need/want something I have. I am still offering this service. Just ask if you are looking for a gift for someone.

Why I bring this up again is also because of a little chat I had yesterday with a woman who works for a charitable organization. They take donations from people who, like me, are probably giving up what they have in excess and not in use. But, she told me, as we talked briefly about shopping addictions, that she can easily get carried away at work picking out the things that come in that she herself wants/likes. Now...what good is this charity service if those working there are "feeding their faces" first? Sure, maybe she could use a thing or two herself. But, the organization is there to provide for those with less.

This isn't the worst case scenario by far, mind you. I know of priests and ministers and followers thereof who claim to be shopping and working for charitable organizations but later confess they have alterior motives when they think you are just like them. You don't even have to talk to them, sometimes. Just watch what they do when out shopping and insisting they get exempted from taxes. It leaves the deepest, darkest rage and urge to vomit in me.

So, I am just speaking out to say why I do not believe or trust charities, anymore. You want help? You want my money? You have people who need something? You tell me where to reach these people and maybe go with me to their door to deliver the goods. I won't be handing out envelopes of MY hard-earned money and just hope it goes to the right place. Not anymore.

Astro Boy--movie review

2009-11-01T15:33:45-05:00

A tweenage boy named Toby shows a futuristic world the potential of any good heart while defending others from the negative energy of a "bad" one in "Astro Boy", a film based upon an anime(Japanese) cartoon(and manga) which closely resembles Disney's "Pinocchio" and is the spark that led to such series as Mega Man(Rock) and Cutey Honey. It's not until the boy becomes...or rather, is replaced by...a robot that his father and many others come to rethink their views on life and the ways of the modern world. By being who he is(not just what he is), Toby(Astro) touches many hearts and opens eyes to new ideas. It's a story about heart(amid an ever advancing technological world bent on its own destruction) and finding your place in life.

The film, however, is a much lighter and more comical piece than the old cartoon. Though I have not actually seen an episode, I know enough about anime to know that it is likely a much darker and more serious story than any Pinocchio. I have seen plenty of Japanese cartoons that feature grim, gruesome and terrifying concepts which would blow many American kids' minds. [This film is no different than Disney turning an otherwise scary fairy tale meant to discipline children into a "happily ever after". I just wasn't around when this anime aired and didn't care to seek it out when, seeing the artistic style, I didn't know if I would be disturbed or bored.] Some fans of the original work might say the film masks or ignores the impact of such heavy material, but I was just as terrified to see a kid turned into a donkey in "Pinocchio" as anyone might be to see a little boy vaporized before being replaced by a robot. [Yet, I could hear the little ones in the theater turning to ask their parents, "What happened to Toby?...Where did Toby go?"]

The filmmakers cut out and softened the heavy parts, replacing them with comedic relief. Despite the discord of those same fans, this was a great asset! I(and a few other adults present) highly enjoyed every joke and running gag as if this was in fact a comedy. But, I sympathize with those who wanted to see the seriously dramatic and epic story come to life on the big screen. The faces may be a little different, but the characters I have seen in pictures are still there. And, the lessons presented(like sacrifice and the values of humanity and identity) are rather powerful(though depicted in a subdued fashion which may require a little deeper thinking to grasp). That is the mark of a good film. [Aside from Nicholas Cage(among a cast of other famous voices) playing Toby's father and a few moments that could have been better developed instead of just rushing through/washing over them. I had the feeling the filmmakers were trying to squeeze years of work into 90 minutes of film. And, it was so taxing that they had to cut everything down to fragments just to tell the whole story. Nonetheless, though I feel a bit short-changed, I enjoyed the film enough to deem it more than self-worthy.]

If you know the story of Pinocchio, the plot is similar. A boy who is ignored by his prominent father dies in a tragic demonstration of robotics where the darker of two energy sources is installed in a weapon for the military of the "more advanced" part of the world which floats above the landfill that represents the rest. His father, distraught and lost for words, decides to replace his son with a robot powered with the "good" source of energy(a blue spark not unlike the Blue Fairy that gives Pinocchio life). The father believes this robot will be the perfect son replacement. But, his perfection quickly fades into hatred of everything he has created when his mind can't accept robots as replacements for life. Meanwhile, as with any story of good versus evil, the military is busy seeking to wage war on the "lesser" part of the world. And, seeing Toby discover his own super-weapon potential(which may be confusing, considering he is supposed to be a peaceful robot), they decide to use the robot Toby's power source to do the job. [Just imagine the army of your country hunting down the Energizer bunny's batteries to power their killing machine.] This effort leads to Toby being cast out into the "lesser" world where his eyes are opened to new concepts like a robot graveyard, a robot revolution and human orphans being supported by a "battle bots ring leader". One of the orphans, Cora, turns out to be a good friend(and potential love interest) who shares a little common ground with Toby. Through "simple" good gestures, Toby(Astro) opens the eyes of the "lesser" world to "higher" aspirations as he sorts out his place in life. And, when sinister forces including the military become a threat to everything he holds dear, he finds the fighter in him and puts them in their place. In the end, good wins the battle and lives to fight the ongoing war against "evil" while reuniting with family.

While I smile thinking of the little boy who ran out of the theater thinking he was the star character, I will give "Astro Boy"(rated PG at approximately 90 minutes long) 3.75 stars out of 5(2.75 out of 4). It's not the most intelligent(but not stupid) computer animated movie. [It's no Pixar.] It's not the dynamic, dramatic epic that it could be. It's a bit brief and naive. But, it is still a highly enjoyable and promotes positive influences rather than market negative ones for the sake of toys and wasteful spending. I came away with more inspiration than any desire to buy a new toy. I am hoping the same goes for children watching this, as well. [Although, I still am concerned about whether or not kids will fully grasp the depth of the story and not just look at it like another "wham-bam" hero cartoon.] For those, like me, who have no previous knowledge of the material other than maybe pictures and notes to go by, this is a good, funny movie with heart. Anyone who has ever imagined futuristic cities and robots living among people will enjoy this film.

--brainstormer, free-lance movie critic
[I was made ready. Upward and onward!]

Hair for the Season

2009-10-30T00:24:04-04:00

As I found myself pondering
the falling leaves
of various
colors
this afternoon
while coming home from work,
I thought about my hair.
I wondered...
I pondered...
I thought
how great it might be
to have hair like the leaves on the trees.
To have it fall out during the fall
and grow back in the spring.
Like deer antlers.
Wouldn't that be cool?

Here is a depiction.
It has a sort of Fox Trot look to it, don't you think?

Road Trips with Brainstormer # 9

2009-10-24T21:26:33-04:00

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Road Trip #9,
"Why I Hate
Being Out At Night"
OR
"Dead End Drive"

If there was ever a time when I could prove my point about night being a bad time to be away from home, this had to be one. I had made plans to visit a friend in another state. But, what I failed to plan, or insist upon, was an earlier start for the long drive. I could have booked a flight but thought it would be a waste to fly just one state over when I could take the time to see some sights. If not for my new GPS system, I might not have even thought it possible for me to make such a journey without prior experience. But, I trusted technology(a huge leap of my faith) to guide me safely through the wilderness.

It was roughly 3 PM when I had the car packed and locked the front door to my place. I had hoped to be on the road by 11 AM. [But, I guess second-guessing yourself can be a real bitch.] The hum of my car's engine gave me a little boost of confidence. And, as the screen of my GPS lit up with a friendly chime, I took a breath and smiled before heading out toward "the country".

I kept a small cooler loaded with snacks next to me as I drove. Someone I knew had once tipped me off to this idea for battling nerves. It also made eating a little more convenient. Of course, I always get a little anxious shortly after leaving home. So, I hastily devoured a dry sandwich and downed a small bottle of cranberry apple juice(good for the digestion). It was just enough to get my "cylinders" pumping. I gave my drying eyes a few blinks and reminded myself to breathe as I adjusted my grip on the wheel. Then, I turned off the A/C which was responsible for my dry eyes. [I had left it on from a previous trip.]

Fifty miles into the journey, I had a little light go off in my head. I looked at the fuel meter. It was a hair above half-full. I assumed I was doing fine and would not need to make a stop anytime soon.

I looked at the odometer a few times. I had set it to check distance travelled. I had already covered sixty-five miles. I shook my head for obsessing and tried to think of something else to do with my driving time.

I turned on the radio. As usual, when venturing out of the city, the stations were a mess. I would have been better off bringing a few CDs. But, that was one little detail that didn't engrave itself in my busy mind.

Traffic was a breeze. The country roads were smooth sailing. I only had a handful of cars buzz by, and not one gave me a hard time. Only a couple of semi trucks along the county lines presented a minor problem. I tried darting around one only to have someone in a white sportscar come flying at me while honking their horn. I luckily slipped back behind the truck and let the sweat dry on my face and chest while shaking off my impatient mistake.

As the sun began to set and paint the sky with the last of its daily colors, I thought I might be turning depressed by the long drive. The sun took back my motivation with its rays. While passing a stretch of farm land with a white picket fence, I spotted a young woman with shoulder-length curly red hair along the roadside. She wore a green-and-white striped long-sleeve shirt with blue jeans and toted a light blue spring jacket over her right shoulder while towing a small piece of wheeled luggage with her other hand. She looked at me and smiled warmly. I noticed the freckles on her face as I passed by before her smile quickly faded. As I caught sight of her in the rear-view mirror, I assumed she was looking for a ride. Unfortunately, I didn't feel like stopping for such things. Nor did I know what it would take to get her where she was going.

I heard crows caw as I passed the one hundred mile mark. The sun was down, and no one was in sight. Not one car. Not a single pedestrian. I was alone in a strange land of blue trees and purple roads.

"Turn left in 2.3 miles."

Ah. The soothing feminine voice of my trusty GPS. I had almost forgotten. SHE would not let me down and would remain my faithful companion.

But, the battered sign I passed at that next turn read "Turner Gulch 2.5 miles". It didn't sound like a friendly place(and, frankly, like something out of a corny Western movie). And, I had the slightest doubt in the pit of my gut that I was going the wrong way.

I stopped the car, shifted into reverse and changed course. There. That felt better.

"Turn left in 2.3 miles."

Strange. She said the same thing just a few minutes ago.

"Fog ahead. Maintain visual contact with the road."

That was ALSO something unusual for her to say. I had never heard weather conditions. But, sure enough, I was heading into a bank of fog without noticing it. The sky was unusually dark. And, in no time, it vanished beneath a grey blanket.

I switched on the high beams and tore a few holes in that fog, teaching it some respect for my presence. Before I could relish in my bravery, the veil vanished; and I was able to see just the black silhouette of the country landscape beneath an eerie canvas of reds, blues and greens. Again, I heard crows caw in the distance.

Stopping the car, I relished in the silencing of the engine long enough to appreciate the chirping of crickets. It sounded as if swarms of the little critters were "getting busy". Quite an orgy that evening. It was strangely soothing sitting out in the middle of nowhere.

I heard something scratching the side of the car. Suddenly, a shadow leapt atop the hood and flashed its eyes at me. Although, with little ambient light, they were not menacing(much less visible).

The creature made a shrill sound.

"RRReeeeerWH!"

And, then, it leapt across the road, vanishing into darkness. [I assumed it was a black cat. But, it could have been any color.]

I couldn't be sure if it was still lurking out there. I made sure my windows were closed just in case it tried to leap inside. But, having the windows closed made it a bit difficult to breathe. I felt partially deaf not being able to hear every little sound. So, I lowered the driver-side window and listened carefully.

The crickets had stopped chirping. [If you have any knowledge of crickets, you might know that it was a bad sign for them to be silent at this time of night.] I felt my drying eyes popping from their sockets. My lips and throat were parched. I kept telling myself to grab something to drink while squinting out the window in an attempt to spot something on the horizon. I had never experienced such a dead calm in my life. [This is the part where you say, "Wait. I think I've seen this one. This is where..."]

"Rawrh!"

A large shadow leapt in front of me and latched its shaggy paws onto the window frame. I stared right into its bright yellow eyes with red pupils before screaming like a little girl. I didn't think about it. I just peed in my pants and reached for the key in a hurry. I thought I'd be dead by the time I got the car started, again. But, luckily, I survived and made my hasty escape down the country road. I didn't look back for a second. I just locked my eyes on the path between the trees ahead and jabbed my foot down on the gas pedal. I had never driven so fast nor enjoyed the roar of the engine as I did at that moment. My hands were like two sticks of rapidly melting butter on the wheel.

[How did I get away from that creature? It had to be a trick. Some punk in a costume, maybe. If it had been real, I would have surely been dog food in seconds. And, my car would have looked worse than a can of Spinach after Popeye had his fill.]

"Turn left in 2.3 miles."

[Again? Where was she taking me?] I sighed and trusted my GPS gal to lead me to safer pastures. But, upon seeing another sign which read "Turner Gulch", I started to wonder if this whole trip was a mistake. I was there. A small town of rundown buildings basking in the moonlight(like something out of that Western movie I was imagining earlier). I was all set on driving around the perimeter and simply carrying on with my journey into the neighboring state when I found myself turning down a stretch which cut right through the middle of town. [How and when did I make that turn?] I passed one of the more "polished" two-floor wooden structures which had a light on in one of the upper corner windows. I slowed down to get a better look.

Suddenly, the light went out. [Maybe whoever was inside was going to bed.] I hoped my car wasn't disturbing the peace. As if to answer my question, it started to sputter and then came to a full stop. I heard a faint hissing sound before feeling a wave of heat wash over my face. I couldn't see the dashboard well. So, I dug a flashlight out of the glove compartment and took a closer look. The fuel meter was verging on empty. The radiator was nearly bone dry. [I must have exhausted it when I was speeding.] At least, I could hear crickets, again.

A light came on in the window beside the front door of the same building(which looked a bit like a more modern day saloon). An owl somewhere outside of town contributed its usual two cents. I saw a shadow moving near and then toward the door. I heard the knob squeak and the wood creak as the stranger poked his or her head outside. I almost said "hi" before choking on my words. I thought I might die of thirst waiting to see a face. [But, why was I waiting when anyone or anything in this little town might be another threat?]

As the shadow came forward and into focus, it took shape. The shape of a very slender person wearing what appeared to be a tattered dress(or robe). The narrow strips of fabric hanging from the forearms danced in the night air as she(assuming it was a "she") glided across the gravel path to the side of my car. When she was within two feet of the window, I was finally able to see a trace of her gaunt face in the moonlight. Striking features, skin like moon rock, eyes like sparkling black marbles, sharply tapered cheekbones, slender lips and a head of long, black hair swaying down past her hips where a rope belt was tied firmly around her non-existent waist. The longer I stared with fear in my heart, the softer her appearance became. Soon, I could see the whites of her eyes.

"Evening, stranger," she said in the most soothing(yet haunting), deep(yet feminine) voice. "Have you come far to this neck of the woods?"

[What a colorful choice of words she used.]

"Uh...I guess so. It seems my car just...led me here."

[Considering I had no clue who this woman was or if my life was, in fact, in danger, I had no idea why I was even talking to her.]

"Ah. Then, perhaps, it was fate."

[Yeah. That's it, lady. Fate. That old chestnut.]

I didn't know what to say in response to that one. So, I shrugged and cracked a half-smile as I continued to gather a vibe from her.

"You must be tired. Would you like to come inside? I have plenty of space for you to share. A nice cozy bed."

[Yep. That was it. I had to get the heck out of there. I knew where this story was going. And, I was not about to be the next victim in a grim fairy tale. Though, I imagined the bed WAS rather inviting in a...sexual fantasy sort of way...basking in the moonlight...with...red-and-gold covers and a matching canopy framed with old wood posts, golden tassles...] I tried to start the engine, but it just clicked and sputtered.

"Tsk. Tsk. I don't think it's going to start again so soon. Besides, your tank is a little low.

[How could SHE tell that? Surely, she couldn't read the meter from where she was standing in the dark.]

You should give it a break and, at least, rest your eyes. I'm sure you have a long drive ahead of you. In the morning, you can surely reach a gas station for a refill. Til then, won't you keep me company? Or, may I keep YOU company?"

I felt her hand snaking up my left shoulder. I couldn't turn my head sharply enough to get a good look at her boney fingers. But, I could see her other hand massaging the base of the window frame just below the shallow curves of her meager bosom. Those polished black nails with a few random cracks in the tips. Like a cunning python, she worked her arms around me as she poked her head through the window. She seemed amazingly flexible. Her head kept changing directions as if her neck was a garden hose.

I thought I caught a glimpse of closed eyes on a pale moon face before her dark lips latched onto my own. Cold and dry at first, they gave me a fright before I discovered an alien warmth passing between her and I. I felt like I might pass out as she refused to remove herself. Her kiss was like a vacuum on the verge of extracting my teeth. Her long black hair brushed against my face. It was cool and smooth as silk, easing my mind of lingering fears. Her warm, wet tongue grazed my lips as she moaned softly and pulled me forward by the back of my head. I found myself giving in to her embrace and wanting more.

I heard the door click. She had opened it herself and was guiding me out of the car. [Did she have extra hands somewhere?]

"Come on inside. I will make sure you are comfortable for the night. No telling what might be lurking out here."

[No scarier words were ever spoken to me by a woman in a long, long time. Or, at least, they didn't sound friendly coming from her.]

"Uh...No thanks. I-I'd really prefer to stay with the car. I don't...want to trouble you with--"

She gave my right hand a tug with her icy fingers and pulled me to my feet. I gazed deep into her dark eyes. Her long, black hair flapped slowly in mid-air as if moving through water.

"No trouble at all. Please. Do not refuse me, again."

"W-Well, I'm sorry to tell you--"

"Do not say you are sorry."

"Uh, okay...I-I am just telling you...I'm staying out here with the car."

Suddenly, she let go of my hand and retreated a step. The previous whistling of the air with the motion of her body abruptly halted.

"Very well. Then I will remain here with the car, as well. We will ride the night together under the moon."

I shook my head as a painful knot quickly formed in the coils of my mind.

"W-Wait; what?!"

Like a ragdoll, she grabbed me by the neckline of my shirt and tossed me atop my car before joining me on the roof with her legs straddled over me. My body made a distinct thump across the plexiglass bubble. I felt her hair wash down over my face and curl at the sides like the tentacles of a curious octopus. I could barely make out the features of her face and chest perking up from the plunging neckline of her dress in the shadows as she lowered her head toward my lips.

"Come. Let us make this night...memorable."

Before I could say anything in disagreement, she had forced her lips over my own and began sucking the life out of me. [Probably literally. I couldn't be sure at the time.] I heard her moaning and laughing under her breath. She pressed our chests together while holding my wrists firmly against the top of the car with her boney "hand-cuffs". I could feel the curves of her breasts shifting with every passing second as if they were growing. [Probably filling with my life energy.] I was gradually becoming paralyzed as she wrapped herself around me. And, yet, I found enough vim and vigor in me to

[Technical difficulties. We will return to our current programming shortly. Please stand by. Thank you.]

"Chirp. Chirp. Cuh-caw! Caw!"

I opened my eyes. It was morning. A tangerine and cornflower blue sky littered with golden puffs of mashed potatoes. I shot upright and discovered that I was still in the driver seat. My face had been pressing against the wheel and now ached from the impression made in the left side. I wiped the drool from my chin and the leathery frame before squinting out the side window. I could see the old house clear as day. But, there was no sign of life. And, as I scanned the rest of the town from the safety of my car, it looked the same.

I decided not to waste another minute second-guessing myself(not this time) and to start the car as fast as possible. Luckily, it worked the first time. [Very luckily.] I cranked my only friend into reverse and peeled out of Turner Gulch, praying I would not find myself right back in the middle of "spookville" when I made the next turn.

As I raced along another nameless country road with the voice of my GPS still ringing in my ears, I noticed the similarity between its voice and that of the frail woman I had...met...last night. I shook my head, trying to remove that thought quickly.

Then I saw the streamer dangling from my driver side mirror. It looked like half a pair of black sheer pantyhose. It had to be a piece of that woman's dress. I kept looking at it for about two miles before finally tugging at it til it broke free and flopped past the rear bumper. [Adios, muchacha peligrosa.]

I checked my meters, once more. Gas was still verging on empty(as was coolant). I needed to find a gas station soon.

I noticed someone walking along the side of the road. Just a few feet from a white picket fence. It was the same red-haired girl I had seen yesterday. Only, now, she was carrying an armful of books. But, I had left her far behind in a distant county. [How was she walking here in front of me?]

I slowed the car and pulled alongside her before stopping.

"Hey! 'You live around here?!" I shouted, trying to get her attention. "I thought I saw you yesterday. But, somewhere else."

She turned and looked at me plainly.

"You DID. But, you didn't stop. I had to walk aaall the way home...alone."

[Gee. Thanks for the guilt trip, stranger. It's not like I owed you anything.]

"Well, if you'll forgive me, I'll happily drop you off somewhere. 'That okay?"

Her eyes perked up and a small smile curved across the left side of her face as she slowly stepped toward the car.

"Sure. Thanks. That'd be nice."

I moved my small cooler of snacks and squirmed across the partition to open the passenger door. She slipped inside and threw me a silly grin. I thought she might be suffering from the long walk.

"So...where to?"

"Oh. Not far. Just a little neck of the woods known as...Turner Gulch!"

The color drained from my face as I turned to see her red curls turn black and snake across the grey interior. Her dazed green eyes became dark and ominous. And, as her youthful lips and cheeks began to wither, I heard her cackle wildly in that already familiar deep, seductive tone. Her hands were already latched onto me. And, I knew I was in for a fright.

.......Or, maybe, the ride of my life!

-------

Tune in next time(if I am still alive and free to speak) for another installment of...

Road Trips with Brainstormer!

Remember. Drive with others as you would have them drive with you. And, have a safe and happy Halloween(or Dia de los Muertes).

-------

Smooth Criminals--living with lies

2009-10-21T01:56:27-04:00

She walks into her office and lays the sweetest butter on her boss. Now, she has the rest of the day off. She slips her coworker a kind compliment. Now, she has a gopher to get her lunch. She goes home and gets online to tell the guy she has been chatting with for three years without a phone call or picture shared between them that she really enjoys the time they spend together. Meanwhile, she asks him a favor which he cannot resist fulfilling. However, the entire time they have been chatting, she has been multitasking. He is the least of her concerns while he thinks she is the answer to his prayers. Not once did he know all that she was doing behind the screen. Behind the facade that she presented to him without a face. The face that she shows to all those who fall under her spell. Is it just her pretty face or her way with words. They've all been struck by a smooth criminal.

Lies.

We live in a world of deception and lies. And, when "truth be told", it is often written or said in a manner that is just as twisted or heavier than most can handle. Thus, when the truth hits and hurts, they resort to negative habits(smoking, drinking, cutting, purging, etc.) to relieve the negative feeling. The impact of truth. I think if anyone had the hard truth given to them every day, they might puke. It would probably be like a person who only eats junk food suddenly eating something organic. [I saw that in an episode of "The Simpsons."]

To avoid these intense scenarios and ease our minds from heartfelt confessions, many of us use white lies and/or bigger lies in complimentary fashion. How ironic that parents teach kids to tell the truth but not be "tattletales" often are white or worse liars themselves. Thus, a bad pattern is engraved into the next generation's brains. And, it never seems to stop.

Until, a rare seed comes along that speaks the truth. He cannot lie. He is a genuine "Honest Abe". A real George Washington.
How unfortunate he is to be alive. For, just being honest has doomed him to a lonely life. How can he fit in when the majority exercises a healthy dose of lying into their verbal diet? He is like the hottest flame, the brightest sunshine on the horizon. He is too much information. Is it a disease? Is it a plague?

Ladies, a question for you. Which would you rather experience?
--A man who sweet talks his way into your heart in no time at all when he never admits his true feelings about some part of your being which he cannot stand just to "get some"?
--A man who never gives you what he wants, always gets what he wants and hides the truth from you for years before you finally claw it from his brain and he leaves you for another woman?
Or
-A man with a conscience who from day one tells you exactly what he is thinking and feeling...even if he has to be pressured or hesitates...even if it hurts to hear...so you never have to wonder or worry about him lying to you?

Feel free to add your own other options to ease your mind from the last option. The hard truth option. That oddball may have less chance of "getting some" or ever fitting in anywhere in this world according to some of you, but he won't get away with lies and won't live the lie of thinking he can.

But, if you prefer to live in a world of lies to ease the pain of hard truth, go ahead. You might as well smoke marijuana, drink hard liquor or do something else to dull your senses. Because that is what you are living with and allowing to pollute the air you breathe by not expecting and insisting upon the truth. By disregarding those who may not say the nicest things all the time. By only digesting the sweet nectar of fly-by-night compliments and flirtations. You foolish impulses are just as doomed as that "honest joe". You may have better luck than some. You may have your share of good times. And, for those of you who can say they have no regrets and a wonderful life though you have allowed and/or promoted half-truths(for the sake of "diplomacy" or otherwise), I both envy and hate you for living that lie. For cheating the system that embodies us all. You pollute the water by lowering yourselves to "the norm". You lemmings drive us all into the abyss. Your cries are never-ending when double-cross rears its ugly head. And, you all crowd around each other, repeating those cries to each other. The common denomenator. Let's all share in our woes for repeating the mistake we refuse to fix. We refuse to be honest with each other and ourselves. Butter and sugar might help the medicine go down. But, there comes a point when "nice talk" does not tell all. And, the longer you hide the truth, the worse it hurts to hear. It's like stretching a rubber band. How long before you hear it snap? How long before someone gets hurt worse than had you told them how you truly felt from day one?

But, no. It's better to hide the facts from them. It's better to keep these things to yourself and never air them. It's better to say only nice things to strangers online and collect "friends" so that they think they are in a better place than the real world which is not always so friendly. It's better they live on a computer than be able to face the outside world. Not.

Maybe these would make better friends than an honest person...

No, not everything a person may say is necessary. Surely, we all say things at times that are a little excessive. But, truth is truth. No way around it. And, better we hear it than we plug our ears only to be deaf when reality hits us. When deception rears its true ugly head.

Shame on all of you who allow this to happen. And, shame on those who ostracize the honest ones. Not every hard truth makes them jerks. You might just choose to see them that way because they are different.

You think you are lower than them in their eyes. You are just weak, sensitive to the hard truth they spew. Step out into the sun and harden your skins. Stand up to them and be counted. Not among the norm. But, among the true individuals. The truth will set you free. When faced with the Matrix, don't take the deceptive dream pill.

I may not appear the nicest guy here as of late...but at least I have never lied to anyone. And, if I ever did and recalled the time, I'd like myself less for allowing it to happen. Sometimes, I have said things that were seen as hurtful. I am not proud of it. I even had to slap myself a few times later. I know we can have bad moods, bad timing, etc. I apologize for when I have...been less than pleasant, at times. But, that's life. Ups and downs. I spoke what i was feeling. [If I didn't do that, I might be lying to myself and carrying an unnecessary burden. It's just as bad to hold your tongue and let what you felt in response to something eat at you from the inside as it might be to speak your mind. It's just as bad if not worse when someone asks you how you are...and you just say "I'm okay" when you truly are hurting and wish someone would be there to hold you and work through your pain.] That's what we all should be doing, honestly. Why are we so set on some sort of innocence or existence free of hard truths? Is it really possible to have everyone in the world say nice things to each other and never hide a more negative truth? To truly be nice to each other and never lie? To avoid cheating, stealing, con artistry, gossip(and the "drama" that ensues with talking behind people's backs) and the like? Or, are we doomed to repeat these crimes just because we can't say what's really on our minds? How many more must suffer?

Maybe if just one person tells their mate how they really feel instead of hiding the truth, one less auto mechanic might stop pulling stunts to bring back a customer who has no clue about their car and doesn't see the trick coming. And, maybe if one more mother tells their child the truth the next time the kid ask's a hard question that's a bit "adult", one less boss will lie to his staff before dropping the bomb of unemployment on a crew of hundreds or even thousands. I'm not saying this will be easy. I'm not saying magic will happen overnight. I know it may be as difficult as a die-hard meat-eater going vegan. But, with a little effort, fortitude and courage/endurance, we can all be just a little more honest with each other and save a ton of grief from deception around the world.

This nws is s old, is crumlng my fngers as I ty i

[But, if you managed to read every word...which I doubt, unfortunately...pat yourselves on the back. You took the hard pill. Have yourself something good to drink.]

My Dream 10-20-09

2009-10-20T23:59:21-04:00

So, it begins with several phone calls to our own Kaybee who has "I've Got a Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas as her ring tone. [No, wait, that's the song Moxi picked up and used on one of her posts for my sake.] She doesn't answer right away. But, when she does, she says she is busy in Florida picking out some sort of white flower seeds to take back to Australia. I said "I didn't know you could transport seeds between continents."

Switch to some unknown house with me standing in the main hallway. I think I am with a male coworker of mine. He tells me to go in this one room to get a certain book. But, I see many books on a shelf and look at all of them briefly. Then he says he has to leave to play basketball with some Mexican guy. He seems to always be running off somewhere.

Switch to me and a bunch of faceless guys fleeing something or someone...sliding head-first through a snow-filled tunnel. On the other side, we run around the side of some building. And, someone(maybe that same coworker?) hands me my shoes. Another guy acts like he knows me. But, I am not sure about him and get the feeling I shouldn't go near him.

That's it. Not much to go on, ay? Any interpreters out there?

My only mental discharge, my subconscious "spewage", for your amusement. Have at.

Road Trips with Brainstormer # 15

2009-10-19T19:49:58-04:00

Grab your essentials. Bring your camera, sunglasses and a hat. Make sure you use the bathroom before stepping out that door and that there's gas in the tank. We are hitting the road. Off to places unknown. It's time for...

Road Trips with Brainstormer!

A mini-series of accidental tourism as told by yours truly(with little to no actual road trip experience). Clark Griswold's got nothing on this vacation. Sure to be a mix of adventure, pee-in-your-pants moments, drama(yes, even a little drama might slip in) and romance(passion). Solo, with a (female) friend or as a group. Variety is the spice of life. So, if you're ready for anything, then off we go...

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

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Road Trip # 15,
"A Detective and a Gentleman"
OR
"CSI Movie Fest"

A detour doesn't always infer a bad experience. Some bring nice surprises. But, a delay rarely if ever is anything pleasant. What's worse is when the law becomes involved. Why? Because paperwork and physical abuse lurk around every corner. Here is one of those stories. [Bum-bum!]

On a crisp fall morning when the sky was grim and grey, I had made plans to drive up north for a film festival. Not often would I make such a trip, but someone I knew out west convinced me to make the effort provided they met me there. I would have prefered sharing a car and driving up with someone but settled for the alternative.

I had just exitted the freeway between cities to grab a bite to eat at one of the fast food places advertised on the roadside when I came upon a forest area with no other cars in sight. It was oddly desolate and gave me an eerie feeling. I tried to shake my nerves by turning on the radio. None of the stations came in clearly, and, thus, I quickly became frustrated and short of breath.

Suddenly, a fleshy, balding man wearing only a pair of "tighty whitey" briefs and horn-rim glasses came running across the road with both hands over his crotch and a panic-stricken look on his flabby face. I blinked and lost control of the wheel before he abruptly vanished. Something big and firm fell under the car, sending me off the road on a jostling course. I managed to hit the brakes before ramming into a tree. But, the hissing smoke coming from my hood did not make me grateful for my safety. I scrambled outside and looked at a dead deer on the road in a pool of its own blood. Then, I looked deep into the woods, hoping I'd catch a glimpse of the nut-job who just made me commit a crime against nature. I never found him but made a mad promise to myself and the dead deer that I'd seek him out.

Tossing anything of value in the car into a backpack I kept in the trunk, I headed into the woods with tears in my eyes. Cursing under my breath with steam spewing from my nostrils. The atmosphere was chilling, and I would have been extremely pissed if I caught a cold. I wasn't sure what I'd do when I found the "fleeing streaker". But, I needed to air my "inflamatory disapproval". [That is how much it means to me to protect a deer that isn't hunted for survival or near death itself.]

I had covered maybe fifty yards of woodland when I nearly tripped over a fallen trunk and came face-to-face with my second frightful surprise. Planted face-first on a field of dirt, dead leaves and bark debris was the very man I had been chasing with two gunshot wounds bleeding from his backside. If the bullets had struck a few inches south, they would have been delayed by a thinning layer of white cotton-spandex and a few inches of fatty tissue. My jaw dropped, and I thought I might vomit from the view before I caught myself and simply wiped a trail of spit from my trembling bottom lip.

Just as I was looking for a tissue in my right pants pocket, I heard a handful of voices and speedy footsteps approaching. In a matter of seconds, I was surrounded by police shouting at me to put my hands in the air and drop to my knees. I wanted to scream "I have to pee because you just scared the crap out of me!" but had already wet my pants as I descended with both hands flailing behind my head in panic. I tried not to land too close to the body for a number of personal reasons. What I actually said was more like, "Ssson of a bitch! I'm down! I'm...down! Shhhhit!"

As guns and dark blue uniforms swirled around me, I was given a hasty interrogation littered with threats and without freedom to speak til a woman with red hair in a tan pea coat stepped beside the body and told them to stand down til she "got her two cents". I hesitated to look up at her, but--from what I could see--she was rather attractive and young.

"Sir? I'm Detective Amanda Barnes. You mind telling me what you were doing chasing this man into the woods?"

"I-I didn't chase him, exactly. Well, I DID. But, I-I was...mad!"

"He admits it!" blurted one of the officers as he clicked something on his gun. "Let's just bring him in already!"

"Easy, soldier!" commanded the redhead as she cautioned him with her right hand.

"H-He just ran in front of me! M-Made me crash m-my car! I-I h-hit a deer!"

"We just got a message from a man we've been tracking for weeks that he was about to make his next kill near here. And, now we find you with his victim here in the woods. Sir, don't you find that just a little suspicious?"

"I-I hit a deer! Off-f the side...of the road! Back...that way!"

"Johnson! Tierny!" ordered the redhead detective. "Go check his story!"

" But, what's that gotta do with me?! I-I didn't do anything!"

"Sir, are you trying to tell me you have no clue what just happened and know nothing about that gun beside you?"

"W-What?!"

I assumed there was one but looked to my right and gasped at the sight of the small, square black pistol tossed leisurely beside the fallen tree trunk. I had no words but managed to babble something senseless in my defence. I figured they'd be cuffing me any moment, but Detective Barnes insisted everyone wait til Johnson and Tierny came back to the scene. She also admitted that, by looking at me, she could tell I wasn't "smart enough for such a game".

"'Detective's right," inserted another unseen officer to my left. "This guy's too squirrely."

A moment later, the two officers sent to check the roadside returned.

"'Story checks out. We found the car and the dead animal as described."

"Then, this is just an ugly case of circumstance," said Detective Barnes. "But, that still doesn't explain what you hoped to achieve by chasing this man. I don't care how mad you were. What you did was purely crazy. And, I'm starting to second guess myself. I'm thinking we best take you downtown and have you checked out. If nothing else, it'll settle any doubts. Let's go, boys. Cuff 'em. But...gently."

"A-Are you gonna...ya know...read me my rights?" I muttered, raising my line of vision just high enough to get a fair view of the Detective's stunning, pale, Irish face as she looked back at me. Her eyes were like warm cinders of a dwindling campfire amidst flecks of ash across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. So youthful; she could have been a younger sister or cousin.

"Do you WANT us to read you your rights? I assumed you were the type who watched enough television. I figure you already know the 'shpeel'."

[She had me there.]

One officer(whose name escapes me) took charge of the crime scene with a small team while I was lead back to the roadside to be put in the backseat of a police car. The detective insisted I ride in back with her while Tierny drove. When he questioned her decision, she said that she could handle me.

The moment they slipped me into the backseat, I began to wonder and worry if I'd ever reach my festival buddy. It took all my strength to remain relatively calm while the detective proceeded to pepper me with more questions. Eventually, I was babbling about the film festival and other details which had nothing to do with the case. But, when she realized I was becoming emotional, she paused to change tactics.

As she put her right hand over my left, I froze and then trembled, trying to look her in the eye.

"First time hitting a deer I assume?"

I nodded quietly while fighting back tears.

She pulled a green tissue from one of her coat pockets and handed it to me. "I'll do my best to see it gets a proper burial."

Wondering what she meant by that took my mind off emotions for a short while. Arriving at the station and being escorted into an interrogation room are a blur. I only remember being jostled and then plunking in the cold plastic chair with my arms extended over the equally chilling brown laminate cafeteria table before they removed my cuffs. Detective Barnes excused herself with yet another unknown officer guarding the door. I sat quietly deep in thought--trying not to look at the guard--til she returned with two steaming white cups in hand. As I stared down at the heated beverage, I could feel my nerves softening. I couldn't smell anything, but the vapors were a familiar and welcome relief from the chills of autumn.

"Hot cocoa? I figured it was better than coffee. I know I'M not much of a coffee person. Not your typical TV coffee and doughnut cop."

The gesture was simple and nice enough for me to look her in the eye. My vision blurred momentarily til I blinked it into focus. Again, the warm eyes amid her frosty complexion stirred my heart. Her red-orange hair pulled back tight with a rubber band. She wore a form-fitting black turtleneck shirt and blue jeans with a glossy black belt. She smiled and then flicked her eyes at the guard a few times before retracting her smile and clearing her throat. The moment I realized I was staring, I blushed and looked away.

I focussed on the cocoa. It was my life preserver. And, if I was going to make it through this alive, I had to have some to sip. If I needed to, I'd brave asking for more. But, before I had to ask, the detective had the guard leave the room.

She sat facing me from across the table with both hands folded in front of her. She took a sip of her cocoa and then resumed her position. "So, this film festival. What's that like? I've never been to one myself."

I paused for a moment and glanced at her face. She seemed genuinely interested though her expression was without distinct emotion.

"Um. You basically walk around from theater to theater to catch different films on different days. Most are strange and seem like a waste of...time."

I felt oddly self-conscious and looked at her once more. Her expression had not changed, but there was a sparkle in her eyes. As my glances ebbed and flowed while discussing some of the movies being shown, I watched her previous smile return and grow with warmth til there wasn't a chill in the room. I needed more cocoa. [We both did.]

She excused herself to ask someone to fetch two more cups before leaning against the door. She seemed undecided in what she would say next. But, she waited til we both had our cups in hand to say it. As I took a hearty gulp, she asked, "Would it be too much for me to...JOIN you at this festival?"

I nearly choked and splattered hot cocoa across the room.

"I-I mean...I've never been to one and thought it might be...nice. I'm about due for a vacation. 'Thought I might do something before winter sets in."

I sat quietly, trembling with mixed emotions and/or thoughts, as she took her place across the table. Suddenly, she reached across and clamped her warm, soft hands around mine(which were cooling from lack of blood flow and covered in a thin layer of cold sweat).

"I don't do this often...EVER. But...would it be okay? If we went together? I'll drive...obviously." As quickly as she grabbed them, she released my hands and sat back, adding, "Oh! That reminds me! Your car was taken to the shop. I mean...a guy at a place I know. Anyway, it's taken care of. It's the least I could do for putting you through this."

It took me a minute to realize I was in a police station for questioning and being told in an indirect way that I was deemed innocent. I bit my tongue asking if I was "free and clear" and took another sip of cocoa while exchanging more glances.

"So, how 'bout it? We go to this festival, see a few flicks and then I drive you back to get your car. Gosh, I haven't been to a movie in...I don't know how long."

She was giddy like a school girl, and I could imagine the taste of cherry gloss on her lips. I struggled to find words and tripped over myself making an effort.

"Just say 'yes'! And...we'll get going."

The detective stood and removed the tan pea coat from the back of her chair as if she was making a decision for me. [How could I refuse?] I had never received such an invitation from a woman. A young woman(most likely a few years younger than myself) making the first move for a date in, perhaps, the most unusual and unsettling of circumstances. I finally heaved a heavy sigh and nodded obediently. It felt a bit strange following her outside to the car with many of the other officers gawking at us. [At least, I think they were gawking. I didn't bother to look past a range of two feet around the room.]

I climbed into the passenger seat of a small, polished magenta car(not a cop car) and soon realized I was no longer sitting beside a detective. I was with a young redhead named Amanda Barnes. The age factor was becoming a nagging thought.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," she said as if reading my mind. "I'm mature enough for you 'old man'. We're both done with those tiresome school days. Besides, it's just a film festival! Now, hows about giving this 'old' woman some directions?"

I felt she was toying with my head before she cranked the stick into reverse and flung her arm behind my headrest. Her hand nearly grazed the side of my face. I don't recall where my eyes were but avoided hers for a while. [A thought crossed my mind like a razor blade. If this case of hers was so important, how could she simply leave it this way?]

Half way to our destination, we stopped at a McDonald's to get something to eat. She freed her hair from the confining rubber band at the back of her head and let the firey locks toss across her shoulders with a little assist from her pale fingers.

"There. That's better. I was getting a lil short of breath."

I gazed at the bushy, red-orange mass pointing at her bra strap.
It was in that moment that I started to look at her as a mature woman.

She turned and smirked, "I'd use the old 'take a picture' line, but I'm afraid you would just groan at me."

I struggled to keep my food down the rest of the way. I was glad she knew the roads so well that I didn't have to embarrass myself looking for a map.

Just as I noticed the sign leading into town, she exclaimed, "We're here! Woo-hoo!"

But, something didn't seem right. The town was strangely vacant under an eerie grey sky. I didn't see anyone walking between theaters. I was certain the festival was still going yet quickly becoming paranoid and frazzled.

"'Something you wanna tell me, buddy?" Amanda asked with a hint of sweetness in her otherwise serious tone. It was as if I was being accused of lying or, at least, set up like a fool. I questioned my directions and the location. But, everything was accurate. And yet, there had to be something wrong.

We came upon a small band of police cars outside one of the theaters and found a place to park. I wasn't sure if I'd be cuffed again as I nervously followed Amanda to where the officers and a few other distraught strangers had assembled. In the middle of the group sat a woman wrapped in a pale blue blanket with bruises on her face. She sipped a hot cup of coffee with tears in her eyes as she looked around. The cops were busy asking everyone questions.

"What have we got?" asked Detective Barnes of a bald officer with a big black moustache as she refitted the rubber band around her hair.

"A woman assaulted on the street. Minor flesh wound by gunfire. Another individual shot not far from here just behind the theater. I've got a crew on that. You're from south end, right?"

"Yea. Detective Barnes."

She pulled a brown wallet from the left rear pocket of her blue jeans and flashed her badge.

"Well, detective, it seems this was tied in with other murders of which you are likely familiar. Luckily, witnesses and an officer on scene prevented any fatalities. We got here just in time. But, we lost the gunman." Then the bald cop threw a stern look at me(as if I should not have been listening). "And, who is this?"

"This is my prime suspect," said Detective Barnes as my face went white. Then, she started to snicker and, patting me on the back, added, "I'm just kidding. He's innocent. I'm bringing him for a lead. His buddy just happens to be connected."

I failed to fully process what she had just said. But, I knew she was implying that the person I was set to meet here was in "cahoots" with a murderer. Someone I had known for a while though I spent more time talking with him online. I felt the world dissolve around me into a silent black void as I tried to get a grasp on the grim reality. A moment later, I felt a familiar hand against my back. I "opened" my eyes and turned to see Amanda staring at me with a gentle smile.

"Come on. We can still catch a movie. 'Didn't mean to scare you like that. But, talk about coincidence, ay?"

She explained how I had slipped various details into my babbling during interrogation which set off a bunch of little alarms leading to the film festival connection. The connection which involved that "friend" of mine who turned out to be a friend of the murderer. [Later investigation proved that the guy I was meeting had no knowledge of the murders but did know of his friend's death wish and long-time absence from their friendship.] In effect, it was my humble(though frantic) honesty that saved two lives. Though, it still felt unsettling being jerked around like a toy during the investigation.

It took a while for the ice in my veins to melt. A part of me wished that Amanda would give me a warm hug or kiss to ease my mind. But, she remained polite and yet enthusiastic as we decided which theater to visit. She did her best to distract me from the crime scene by holding firmly onto my right arm as she led me inside. I noticed how we were walking nearly nose-to-nose til I lost my step and had to separate before consenting to holding hands. Realizing I didn't have my backpack or any tickets, I sighed with relief as she stepped up to buy a pair. With every little bubbly gesture, I began swirling with euphoria. I didn't know what to expect but felt helpless against the tide.

We picked our seats near the rear of the theater where we could have a little privacy and be close to the exit if the movie turned out to be a dud. As luck would have it, the movie was fairly good. Enough to keep both of us smiling and laughing at parts. And, at the peak of enjoyment, Amanda leaned over and tugged down on my right arm to give me a quick kiss(which I thanked her for with a second).

It seemed my plans had taken a few crazy turns and stranded me in the middle of "pleasant surprise". Amanda was not only a great detective but a fine sidekick. There was no telling what would yet become of this chilling encounter. But, I was glued to my seat.

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Tune in next time(whenever I get my car back) for another installment of...

Road Trips with Brainstormer!

[Once again, let me know which picture you like best.]

And, remember. Drive with others as you would have them drive with you.

Not Rabbit Season?

2009-10-17T17:44:41-04:00

There is something going around...and it seems to be taking its toll on a number of us here. No, it's not uncooked bacon flu. It's something psychological. Invisible and almost undetectable. Yet, it is bringing us down one-by-one.

I started to notice a pattern. Rabbits. Or, rabbit year people(Chinese astrology). I am aware of my fellow rabbits here. And, I am noticing it is not just me "feeling the blues" and suffering from indecisive despair. It is as if something in the air is causing us all to breakdown. Thus, I am thinking maybe it is not a good time of this year for us rabbits.

But, then, I notice others suffering, as well. Not just us rabbits. While others seem quite on top of the world. I wish I knew of a vitamin to take or some sort of breathing mask I could wear to avoid this...sickness. This plague of negative emotion.

One thing it does NOT seem to be affecting is the "dreaded" popularity of any writer Oh well.

I seek to better understand this phenomena and appreciate any input/insight.

Mr Onionface

2009-10-17T16:39:51-04:00

Once upon a time, there was a man known to many as Mr. Sourspot. But, that was just a local nickname for when he would pass through town in his middle and elder years. You would know him if you saw him. He was a rather tree-like character either pacing with his head between his shoulders or sitting on a ledge with his chin in his hand, thinking deeply with a wrinkled brow.

As a child, he was a showman who was only appreciated once in a while. His efforts at being talented required more time and attention than anyone had to give. Instead, he was given big dreams which took more work than he was willing or able to give to achieve himself. Gradually, he buried those dreams in the depths of his tiny nugget mind and tried to figure out the bigger picture of what was the meaning of life. Thus, began the growth of a hard, little seed under the stern discipline of authority.

He grew to be very thick-headed over the years. He often shut out others' words and thoughts angrily while protesting that he needed to hear himself think. Eventually, no one wanted to be around him, anymore. And, he was left with his thick skin, large head and heavy thoughts. Thoughts of fantasy and stories which were useless on his own. They needed an audience and assistance to make them shine and be productive.

Then, one day, he became desperate for others to hear and adore him, again. He felt so distanced from warm feelings that he needed to be understood and loved anew. He cried out, "Hey! Over here!" But, no one heard him because his voice had become too soft. It was buried deep with his thoughts in his thick, wooden head. People said he was too self-conscious and needed to speak louder. The response troubled him so deeply, he nearly locked himself away in a dark cave. As usual, he was giving all that he could or would, and it was not good enough.

He went to look at himself in a nearby river. And, the longer he stared at himself, the more he disliked what he saw. A large, round head layered with different colors and a thick, hard skin. A giant wooden marble. Seeking out the nearest hard surface(the side of his house), he began beating his face into the brick til cracks began to form. Like a hard-boiled egg, he peeled away the layers one-by-one. With every piece pulled, he felt so much more alive and free to speak. A breath of fresh air. [Little did he know that each face he revealed looked much the same as the last. Only younger.]

He continued to crack and peel his head til all that remained was a semi-smooth, baby-face likeness. He believed no one could turn away such a face(even if the last thing he wanted to be considered at his age was an adorable child). Little did he know that by peeling away all those layers, he had exposed a freshness in himself which was unexpected and not to be tolerated by others.

Trotting back to the center of attention, he breathed deep and began to sing and shout with uncontrollable exuberance. His words came with more volume, quantity and uninhibited honesty than anyone could handle! And, though more could hear him, they still failed to understand or accept him. The overall response was quite disappointing and discouraging.

Once more, he feared for his appearance and sought out the river. There he saw a youthful memory of his past. But, traces of his former matured faces still clung to his cheeks, chin and forehead. The long he looked, the more he disliked himself. He thought long and hard about the cause of his problem. He believed what he was saying was only fair and honest(even if it wasn't always believed to be pleasant). Those that took the time to care and listen always told him that he looked so intelligent. But, more people had complained that he was speaking too softly and/or impolitely. For someone raised with such discipline and restraint, he failed to show it when it mattered most. Though he had found a new freedom with his words, he had alienated himself just the same. [What was such an "onionhead" to do?]

If you pass by a school playground, you might hear kids sing of him while jumping ropes or chasing around the fence. They sing about the man who has many layers, many faces though he only has one voice. They call him Mr. Onionface.

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