My Very Own Boycott

It all started with No Country For Old Men, one of the crappiest movies I've ever seen.  It blew my mind when it was nominated but floored me when it won Best Picture.  Best Picture?  Who?  Why?  What? 

You may know how many years ago that was, but I don't.  I do know that it was the beginning of the end for me and movies.  Since then I have found myself less and less willing to indulge in my former delight of parking myself in a dark theater and disappearing into someone else's reality for a couple of hours. 
As the time has passed, a couple of notions have grown in proportion to my dissatisfaction with movies in general.  One, who decides what gets made....I don't know, but I am not impressed.  In fact, not only movies fall into this category.  You can go back thirty years, and it is common conversation that there is nothing good on tv, so...why do they get awards every year?  Seriously, why do we support this concept?

As the stories of the truly bizarre behaviors of stars become common fodder for the tabloids I have asked myself once too often, why do these people command such incredible amounts of money?  Why do they then get nominated and televised, photographed and fawned, receive goody bags worth tens of thousands of dollars?  Where does this money come from, you.  That's right, because it doesn't come from me, I don't support them anymore.  I just can't.
It has been a number of years since I made the connection between my purchase of People, Time and or any other "news" periodical and the paparazzi.  That started with Princess Diana, when I quietly stopped supporting that madness by not buying their product.  Over time, I have gotten use to not know who was getting divorced or wearing which designer. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good movie, and I'm all for a good television show but I am also for a good education, good police, good firefighters, and last but not least, I am all for living in the land of the free because of the brave.  I'm just not for honoring people who got paid way too much money to do a job that comes catered.  Perhaps I am jaded from working their private affairs as a summer job while teaching? 

That gives me a good idea.  What if we had one, just ONE awards program that gave ONE award in each of these categories for all the rest of society?  How would we nominate our favorite nurse?  Our favorite crossing guard?  Could we spare it?  I know, I know, I'm dreaming. It's okay, it gives me something to think about while I am not watching the Academy Awards.

Inside Myself

Inside myself I feel ashiver
from things I must express
I write myself courageous words
to free me from the past

While I build this brand new life
it's too easy to go astray
with only myself to tell me
to get to work today

I do not want sympathy
it doesn't help at all
but my life is such a mystery
where will the pieces fall

Ten years from now
I will recall
these days of work and tears
knowing that I had to face
each one of my fears

The mirror does reflect to me
the passage of this time
What kind of future will I build?
The answer is divine.

Stuff, and other mundane issues

Sometimes life gets confusing, not like calling an electrician when you need a plumber more like the days when you need both.  Okay, one kept the house from burning down and the other got the water draining, but seriously.

Last night I realized that, once again, I've gotten the cart in front of the horse and it may be true that I am lefthanded in a righthanded world, but it does get confusing.  At the moment, I am finally fitting into this house-which is to say that I need to shift everything six feet to the right, and I'm only five five so, how does that figure?  It goes something like this...

The outlets in the living room aren't properly grounded so the computer needs to be hooked up in another room.  That moves the laptop (easy) into the office (cold) and the printer needs to move as well (no room).  So, I get to figure out what comes out of the office (supplies) and where they go (I have no idea).  As far as problems go, it isn't much of one however, I have first hand experience that moving one thing requires moving a whole lot of other things, and the logical part of me put it where it belongs to begin with...

The last twenty boxes are in the laundry area and the shed.  I am really interested in recovering some items that haven't shown up yet, but I think I'll need a crowbar to fit them in here.  Then I started thinking, I'm only one person-why do I need so much stuff?  What can I get rid of and if I was going to get rid of it why didn't I do that before I moved?  So there you have it, the cart is in front of the horse.  Then I looked around and realized that I really like my stuff and I got confused all over again.

George Carlin did a bit about "stuff" and it was as funny as all of his best bits, I didn't really expect to be living it.  He's a whole lot funnier than I am.  I tried to put the link here but it ended up on my Facebook page, if I can figure it out, I'll add it later.

The Stillness of Snow

It is snowing out, and the world is very quiet. 
A Saturday of stillness is welcome
Landmarks and landmines have passed through these days
I accept the opportunity to snuggle up,
warm, safe, and dry.

Will I ponder, read a good book or nap into the afternoon?
Little difference it will make as long as I do it soon.

Completely Unremarkable

I have come to the conclusion that some of my best days are completely unremarkable, nothing terrible happened, I didn't win a prize, I just had a day and it was good.  I like good days, even though they aren't very fantastic to write about.  I hope you have an unremarkable day as well.