something like a war

Welcome back. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. I received many wonderful gifts and spent time with my family and friends, though it wasn't easy. We have only to make it through a few more days before we can kiss 2009 good-bye. I will post more about this later, but I never would have thought that I would be happy to see this year come to an end.
I hope the holidays found you warm and safe and pleasant. Keep up the good work.

Merry Christmas

We will be closed from now through Sunday December 27, 2009. Please have yourselves a wonderful Christmas and Happy Holidays.

Thank you for your readership.

CLK and budger

inbetweeens

Last weekend: got shocked twice while putting up lights for Grandma A and then ate at Lupe's again. Grandma A will only eat at maybe two or three places so we know where my dad gets that annoying habit.
If you think really hard can you tell the difference between the marginally good minutes and the marginally bad ones? I mean you waste time sitting in traffic or else you spend time sitting on the phone looking forward to the moment when somebody will answer. In this example, we feel boredom and anticipation. We know which we'd prefer but how can we quantify the difference? If we could take the Pepsi challenge but with marginal moments could we even taste the difference? I spent quite a while waiting for somebody to take my order at Lupe's and yet I wasn't the least bit upset. But the hours it took me to put up the lights this year, only to watch some of the strands go out once I'd finished, seemed excruciating. You would think the emotions would have been the opposite. It certainly wasn't the task, as I relish the time spent working outside with my hands. I spent the afternoon disappointed in myself for worrying about things that I can't control. You could say that I was worried about worrying. But in the end, I did not pass the time in a way that was much if at all different from the time I spent at Lupe's.
So what's the deal? The obvious answer is that the difference between these two moments is frame of mind. Yes, this certainly is the first answer that came to my mind and it's the real point that I am getting at. We all know that our lives are made better by the great and beautiful moments; we remember and are effected by the most difficult times. But the marginal moments in life change us too, if only in small ways. I know I shouldn't be effected by either the bad service or the fact that I am a nutcase about certain things. Yet, it is easier for me to handle one of those situations than the other. I plan to improve on this. So lets make a pact. Let's try to take the moments for what they are and allocate the appropriate amount of thought and energy. Ok? As for me and the foibles that cause my undue concern, I look to adapt. There are certain facets of my personality that I cannot change, but I can learn to accept them and to learn to work around them. If only I was so worldly as to never feel hurt, then I would never worry. But, I take heart in the fact that although life is sometimes very difficult, I am better prepared than most to deal with it's highs and lows. Let's just try to limit the lows and not sweat the small stuff. And, yes, that even means ignoring my dad's penchant for eating at the same restaurant all the time.

5 green queens and jean

My plans waver between the great and the mediocre. First, I was going to post the lyrics to this song just to throw something up here during this busy time. Then I aspired to write a monster post about the nearly endless historical references in the lyrics of Pogues songs. But then work and life obligations grabbed me by the shirt collar and demanded that I temper expectations. So I am left pursuing a more modest goal. I would like to post something more than the minimum, however.
I have been listening to my Christmas music lately, trying to get in the mood. Phil Specter, Beach Boys, Sinatra, Elvis. It's not doing anything for me this year. The lights and decorations are up. Aside from the Mr. and Mrs. Frosty salt and pepper shakers and a few ornaments there isn't much to display though. The other day I watched Elf. It's just all not working. The magic isn't there this year and I can't recall it being there much last year either. Too bad. I lamented the loss and wondered why I can't seem to reconnect with those feelings that once upon a winter's moon I took for granted.
And then I listened to the Pogues on my way to La Jolla the other day. It was a cold night and the music, the moon and the sea breeze just mixed so perfectly so as to blow in a forgotten memory from that purgatory where lost memories go. I was reminded of Christmas lights in Newport, walks on the beach, the changing leaves around school and listening to the Pogues endlessly. It was the sort of memory that transcended any one night but rather represented a recurring feeling I once had over the course of many such nights. I felt Christmas and other such feelings that I once thought so integral to life. Oh, but what a good song can do for you.

I recall the moment
Before it slipped away
When 5 green queens
On a black bin bag
Meant all the world to me

And I recall the moment
More distant than it seems
When 5 green queens
On a black bin bag
Meant all the world to me

And I recall the moment
Much closer than it seems
When 5 green queens
On a black bin bag
Meant all the world to me

And I recall the moment
Before it slipped away
When 5 green queens
On a black bin bag
Meant all the world to me

5 green queens & Jean

The feeling, as you might imagine, was fleeting. I have listened to the Pogues almost exclusively over the past few days trying to recapture that spirit but there seem to be a few ingredients missing from the recipe. I have racked my brain for the answer (for longer than I care to mention) to this dilemma. So I will turn it over to you. If you have an answer or a theory, go ahead and post it. Am I searching for what is not lost? Are the forces at play external or internal? Do I really have a hand in my forgetting?
The nostalgia of this song kills me. It makes me want to cherish things more than I really should. Still, whether the memory above is worthy or not it still is my memory. So, it goes in the box with everything else; my wooden testament to living. Or is it my concrete monument to not forgetting? You forget more things than you'll ever remember and this song reminds me of how much of life you lose and can never get back.

I always imagined that 5 green queens was some sort of design on a black bag that Jean must have owned when Shane knew her. It seems it was a reference to a dice game.



London You're a Lady or The Broad Majestic Shannon were the other songs that hit me on a gut level that night. [Go ahead, make the obvious joke.]

turkey day

Happy Turkey Day to you and yours.
We will be out of commission from now until Monday.

As for me, I will be out of cell phone range as well.
I'll be settin' around staring at these:

I hope my favorite college football team can manage to eek out a win without my buoyant fandom around to "help."

fortune

My fortune from yesterday:

A kiss?
The renunciation of the heart when one is no longer alone.

It's as if the fortune cookie computer from The Last Dragon went haywire and started spitting out jibberish. (Link. It's at the 8:00 mark)

Bleary Eyed

Bleary Eyed is my most favorite adjective. I love it. I mean I just, love it. To me, it is so perfectly descriptive. Perfect. It might seem odd but I think about it, about this adjective, quite a lot.

As in, I cannot wait for Sunday morning when, bleary eyed, I will sit and watch CBS Sunday Morning, snuggled on the couch with my daughter and a cup of green tea and a chocolate croissant. Perhaps the tea and croissant are what help make it more appealing. :)