Once there was a day

I have felt guilty as far back as I can remember. Either for things I was directly involved in, like existing, or for occurrences that happened far away and might cause people hardship.
When I got a call from Jake on a night of violent thunder storms, that he was on the side of the highway and his car was broken down, he wanted to know if he was still covered under AAA which I had canceled because he said that he had free road side assistance with his insurance company, somehow I knew I was going to be taking the blame for something. Good guess. Subsequently, because I had acted on the information he had given me, he has decided to move out to show me a thing or two about a thing or two.
Rationally, I know I'm not responsible for this situation. On the other hand, as I was brought up to believe that the space I occupied could be used for better things, rational thinking has no place there either.

Easy to help out

What is the male equivalent for the word Mistress? Why in the article about the actor, Sir Michael Gambon do they say that he is having a second child with his Mistress, However, they fail to say; "the Adulterer Sir Michael Gambon." Double standard me thinks. There are tons of derogatory and maligning words for women and oh so few for men, or when referring to men who like to sleep with lots of women, it's Lothario, oh so romantic compared to the female equivalent; slut.
The libraries in Ohio are threatened with a fifty percent budget cut brought to you by the state. There is a lot of waste where I work, a lot of foam on top kind of maneuvering around and cashing huge paychecks. But, somehow I know all of that will be justified and they'll end up laying off some clerks and those of us who actually do what employees of a library are supposed to which is help people rather than just tell them what to do.

Yes,it goes on and on

Rivalry between friends, or siblings, spouses or any such configuration can be hard on the person feeling it and for the one who might have to try and help work those emotions out. I am the latter in this one; working with Jack on how his brother treats him when they have a mutual friend over. I think we can all remember when those moments of powerlessness, or humiliation come forth in the face of your sibling making fun of you and your friend going along for the ride. It can happen in other venues, even a parent making you feel less than in front of others, but any way you slice it, we have to manage how we deal with it. I always retreat and that's what works in an albeit nonproductive way, but in those moments I can't explain it without busting out either in tears or anger, neither which provide for much resolution.
When you're fourteen you are torn between two worlds, both pulling you or at times driving your interests. Turmoil and confusion are the norm, and unfortunately, from that point on, it never ends.

Follow the pattern

So, as I was getting my bikini wax today, my Esthetician and I had a discussion about our critical voices and how to outwit or overcome the negative stuff we can throw down at or about ourselves at every turn. Now this gal is a lovely young and vital woman who I of course would have thought had not a problem in the world. Of course she does, she as much as anyone lives with a lot of pain; which brings me to my real topic which is phantom limb syndrome. Yes, I typically in my East Coast transplanted one generation removed way read the New Yorker every week, though most of the time I'm three of four weeks behind. There is an article about Vilayanur S. Ramachandran who came up with an amazingly simple solution and reason for an enormously common problem that plagues people who have lost limbs. In addition he has ingenious theories on other issues regarding the mind and body connection, including, schizophrenia and other previously thought of as fetishistic disorders. I have truncated and vivisected his work by describing it as such, but what is most valuable when reading his books, which I have done with two of them, or reading more about his research, is to realize that though his approach is scientific, he also plays with information and looks outside of the parameters of the intellectual community with a more pedestrian mind set which certainly cannot be discounted by the say, fifty or sixty thousand people who have benefited from his understanding that sometimes what we think exists, really does even if it's not real.

A more perfect union

There have been major changes afoot at the library. What happens with this, is even though most of us are powerless in the face of the radical shifts and dismantling of our collections, we are the face of the organization and with that comes the tirades.
So do I defend a situation I don't support, give it the party line, or say what I really feel which is that I don't understand the motivation of these modifications. I think we could be using our time and resources differently. I don't have an emotional attachment to these concerns. I do however see a disconnect between the decisions being made and whom they effect.

I'll set you free

I almost wrote another letter to the Plain Dealer regarding the "corruption" cases of some Cuyahoga County bigwigs; then I thought better of it knowing that at least in this venue I can guarantee publication.
The problem lies in the fact and I do not use that term loosely, that billions, nay trillions of dollars have been stolen by contractors, lawmakers, you name it, in a little place called Iraq, and the PD and feds for that matter have nothing better to do in their skewed world view, than go after some nickel and dime Las Vegas trips and Cavs tickets. There were some kickbacks, these guys are assholes granted, but act with outrage and talk about our tax dollars! Again, the public is duped and looks away from the carnage that is lives and dollars, to pick up the penny someone dropped on the ground and marvel at how shiny it is.

In this beautywood

I am no judge, trust me. I am not one who makes sound decisions and then watches as other people flounder. Yet I think at times people whom I am close to have concluded that I will determine whether or not their choices are good or bad.
I'm not talking about children, because that's all a mixed up bag or wires, hair and all sorts of nasty stuff that goes beyond the normal judgmental criteria. That changes hopefully when they are adults, but for now anything they do pretty much is up for interpretation.
My parents are homeless, not in the figurative sense like they are between houses. There is not another place yet for them to hang their hats or put their crap/crap loads of stuff that used to fit into a giant Cleveland house, somehow fit into a small California house and now is in a storage facility.
These people are in their eighties. I cannot image the displacement they are feeling, especially as attached to their belongings they have come to be over the years. What defines us, is it our stuff, our environment? Let's wait and see, shall we.

What it was you wanted anyway

People are of many minds. We can go from minute to minute and convey and feel completely opposing emotions or promote changing rationals in a heart beat.
I have in a brief period of time, on occasion, with my entire being; hated my spouse and or children. There have been moments of homicidal rage, and conversely tenderness and love, holy moments of passion, communion and bonds that reach beyond conscious understanding.
What's up with that?
Certainly as we do with our skin, we must get a new fill up of brain chemistry with formats that allow us to reach these extremes yet for the most part manage to get back to some sort of normalcy and resolution that gets us through another day.
I've been working through Revolutionary Road. This is another one I didn't necessarily want to watch but did because I loved Titanic so much; uh, no. There are moments of completely accurate dialog regarding disappointment and hope, about feeling special until you reach an age where you realize it was all a biological sham to keep you going long enough to propagate.
We are all disappointed about some things and to change that might lead to less inspiration for reaching goals or going to lengths to become more. But what if we choose to not be. To not allow for the thoughts about what we should have or could have done or been. I've come to know that there will never be enough of anything for me. So with that ,I am satisfied.

Casting a golden light

If I am going to get sick, I like to do it up good. Strep throat and Pneumonia please, nothing less for me, don't give it to me one at a time. I can take it.
Yesterday was Jack's 8th grade commencement. It was bone crushing in variety of ways. To begin, bleachers for three hours never work well with the sitting thing. Then to add to the folly, every prize winner, special and awarded student had a presentation describing their exalted abilities to no end.
I'm a little bitter about that one, both on a personal and universal level. I've had a child who is an award winner and recipient of all that good stuff, in addition I have one's who are not as shiny in the more blatant ways. I was never noticed in school, not until college and I bore no grudge against the kids who worked hard, it was the adults who had failed to notice the virtues that weren't as obvious.
The other difficult part of the wait, and this comes out in the aftermath, was that I was sitting there broasting, not in the usual way, but in the feverish sense. When I finally made it to the doctor later in the day, I was at nearly 103 which kind of explains a lot of why I was as miserable as I was and why I revamped the whole theory of relativity thing which I can't quite remember now that I'm back to normal, or a facsimile thereof.

Please don't sing that sad, sad song

So Terminator Salvation is not a remarkable movie; what is however, is how cold a movie theater can get, and then finding out that the people there have no control over the temperature. They have to email their main office in order to make any changes.
I am not wimpy. It was so cold I had my arms crossed over my chest as if I was going to plunge down a slide. Silly perhaps, but I was with two teenagers and there was no way they were leaving before the bitter end. So I waited it out, sent Gus to go and tell someone and after realizing it wasn't going to get any better, the movie/climate, that is, I just settled into the chair and zenned through the breeze.
So when it was all over and I spoke to someone only to find out about the lack of thermostatic control, she suggested to me that free tickets might take away some of the sting of the frostbite and I heartily agreed. There is a level of satisfaction when people actually hear you and respond in an appropriate way, what I don't' get is how someone can actually think it's normal to not be able to make any changes in their own environment, and or contact someone who can remotely.