Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Free Writing - Take 64

A one handed catch and then another one. Snow Snow Snow. It's all anyone can talk about. Kid lies dead in the middle of the street and we talk more about uncontrollable weather events. Was it always like this or have our minds become mush? I see people posting, those I called friends, with so much hate in their hearts, that it almost makes me wish they could feel that pain, just briefly. The autumn chill turned to springtime today. I walked outside, took a deep breath, but it smells like winter. The party is over and on to the next. The turkey, hen, squab or duck. What will we have? Who knows? Who cares? I wish my brother would walk in that door and say he's done. He's back and I wish I could walk without pain. I wish my mother was here and my grandmother....scratch that, maybe not together, haha! I look forward to shoveling snow. Funny. I've stayed in almost every day, missing the warmth. Missing the beautiful foliage. Missing it, but not. The snow, I will embrace. Everyone walks like I do in the winter. No stares. I feel so much for those who are disabled, who must endure the stares of judgment, so much more than pity or sympathy. I empathize, but don't pretend to know their pains of knowing it can never change. I hope for it and know one day, whether I can afford it or not, it will have to be done. I can't live like this. Looking at an older blog, from two Thanksgivings ago and reading about my daily walks. I miss them so. Even then, pain in my knees and back, but not this crippling pain. Not this agony. Look at me, complaining of my physical pain, while people starve, look for shelter and die in the streets. How about that storm we're going to get? Might make someone late or so I hear. Problems like that makes you wonder, how people will ever deal with loss.

Monday, November 24, 2014

How Many Observed?

How many observed which one of your friends cheered the executive action taken by Obama this week? The day after, out of my 592 friends on Facebook, there were 27 posts regarding it. Twenty were negative, suggesting that the US was now part of Mexico, that unemployment and crime would go up or that Obama was Muslim (yes, still with this nonsense). Seven posts were in favor. Two were die hard liberals and then there were the five friends who posted...no comments, just a post. All Irish immigrants. All who have moved here and gained citizenship in the past two or three years. What does it say when those born and who spent more than half their lives in another country, show more patriotism and pride than most of us born here? Regardless of your views, you have to start questioning one who claims to be pro-America, who is against the principals the country was founded on. My Irish friends seem to understand.

That friend, whose skin is so thin, that any comment regarding their appearance, sends them either scurrying into their rabbit hole or releases a rant about how people need to respect their bodies, their choices and their life. Who notices when this friend has post after post remarking on someone's appearance, their beliefs or their musical preferences? Their choice of clothes, religion or haircuts? Their team affiliation, their food likes and dislikes or their mode of transportation. The hypocrisy is so deep with this person, I'd love two minutes to out them for it. I won't out of respect to those around them, who would then have to make a choice.

Those same people who posted about Buffalo and their "concern," were the first to say "what will happen to me if it snows four to six inches? Why are people so into minor tragedy? People died in Buffalo, but you might have to leave a half hour early to get to Aunt Edna's house. The world might just stop. Or you do what so many of us do. You sit down with your family and have a quiet Thanksgiving and you get together with the rest at your convenience and theirs. Isn't that what being thankful is about?

The multitude of stories of this business or individual doing right by others? While media centers on the atrocities and the lack of humanity, if you look carefully, you'll see the guy at the supermarket buying seven or eight of the smaller turkeys. Ever ask this guy or girl why so many? It's usually a quick story. The church, temple, center, hospital or other giving group. It's usually to guarantee that someone else gets what we all take for granted. I seek those stories, because I know that night I will probably tear up, thinking about those who can't sit down and be thankful for something as simple as a meal with someone they love.

Did anyone notice how calm the rain was tonight. Well at least where I was. I learned a new word today, pluviophile. Someone who finds joy and peace of mind on rainy days. I adore the rain and I pray for it nearly every day. It's when I feel the most alive and when I want to go out. Is it me being contrary or is it because I know I have those parts of the world that everyone avoids to myself. Have you ever went swimming in the rain. It's one of the most wonderful things ever, but most run for shelter, leaving the lake, pool or ocean, because why? They don't want to get wet?

How many observed someone else's happiness this weekend and were content with knowing that's all that matters? How many read a note or e-mail from someone else about their happiness and it made their day? How many struggled to walk, to stand and chat, without wincing in pain, but then forgot all about it, because of one sentence that made them laugh? Everyone will ask you what you are thankful for and honestly, if they're truly my friend, I'll ask them what they are and when their done, I'll say "I'm thankful for those things."

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Why Do People....

...say they want someone funny, but go after everything but?
...say are there for you, when they never are when you don't need them?
...say they are thick skinned, yet run when called out?
...ask how you are, when all they truly want is to talk about themselves?
...say they like something, just to prove you wrong?
...say something, just to be part of a conversation, but add nothing of substance?
...say they aren't racist, when they have racist beliefs, even if they are few?
...seek so much attention from social media, but when it is private, want none of it?
...interest me so, when I know what they will say before they even say it?
...think it hurts me when they unfriend me?
...talk about the weather, if they are not travelling or bracing for a catastrophe?
...respect some and not others, yet have no reason for either?
...cause me to fantasize about knowing them (some better), while most I wish I could release?
...say they have overcome things they have caused?
...miss people, but refrain from writing them? Is it because the fear of not getting a response?

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Free Writing - Take 63

A bagel with hummus, stuffed clams, a nice chat with an old friend (albeit electronically), a documentary on cave paintings. Sounds boring, but these are the kinds of things that go into a near perfect day lately. I don't go out anymore. Some would laugh at the life I've been living. Out to me, is checking the mail. Sitting in the backyard, eating a sandwich. The outside world hasn't seen me for months. Literally months. The recluse life isn't that bad at all. Despite what people might think, as time has gone on, I've drawn myself away from the social media pit that I'm sadly known for. I feel more connected to strangers who define themselves in 140 characters. They show emotions and disgust and love for me like others, but I don't have to hear about their kid's illness or their day in court. Their traffic woes are for their real life friends, but their tales of true horror, the one on screens, is shared with me and the others who get them. I've never been one who looks for likes, stars or any other kind of website affirmation of my nonsense, whether the people are those I know or not. I simply like sharing things I find interesting, funny or maybe even revealing a little of myself for those who might not know me to view. It's usually for me and for those I feel might enjoy it. Recently, I feel so connected, despite very infrequent interactions with four people. None on Facebook, although there is one person, who has made me feel good about myself and has given me a laugh when I needed it most. The others are virtual strangers. People I most likely will never meet and may very well fade away from or they from me, but for now they interest me and I hope I interest them. Life is different. Exciting? No. I think I'm done with exciting for the time being.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Quickie Review - The Taking of Deborah Logan

As always, I don't do spoilers, so not really a review, more of a critique. Let me start by saying I normally despise the found footage genre. It is usually a hindrance to a decent idea and limits what we are allowed to see. There are exceptions, but this one stuck to its guns.

I had heard nothing about this film other than praise by friends on twitter. I gave it a try and realized instantly, it was going to be about something other than initially proposed. The premise is pretty standard, with the wrinkle being that this film appears to almost not happen. The three main characters are female and in many ways, share nothing in common, which works. Even though two are mother and daughter (Jill Larson & Anne Ramsey), you can see that there is something odd between the two. We find out later, it's a little cliche in some sense, but it doesn't bog down the plot. The interviewer/researcher Mia (Michelle Ang) is also very cute, but no nonsense. While she's not on camera often, you get the idea, she's driven, which plays well into what happens with the mother and daughter.

What works so well is that the horror is more in the confusion for the first 80 minutes. There are also extremely funny lines thrown into exceptionally tense scenes that relaxes the viewer and enhances the following fright. The idea that there is a reason for this being filmed also ties up the usual loose ends of "why," as in, why wouldn't you drop your camera and get the heck out of dodge. While I usually despise open endings, this one is wonderfully crafted, because it can be viewed as THE ending or the new beginning. I personally hope it's the ending, but we'll see. The film does seem to be getting some positive buzz on the web and that usually leads to sequels.

One thing that should be noted for horror/gore fans is that this movie might not stimulate your sense of what horror should be. The movie is extremely well acted, with the actress who plays the title character, giving a truly remarkable performance as the troubled elderly woman. The few scary, violent scenes are more mentally disturbing than visually. This plays well throughout and allows us to get comfortable in that we won't be terrified by anything we see, well, for a bit. I am very rarely more than pleasantly surprised, but this one truly stayed with me and deserves to be spoken of as one of the top five found footage films to date.

Laughter

I miss laughter. I mean the silly laughter over nothing. The laughter over a connection between two good friends. The stuff that starts over one thing and carries on to all those other things throughout the night. The kind you wipe your eyes, but it doesn't help. I miss that laughter I got from seeing the body of another jerk with the uncontrollable flailing of someone who has lost it completely. That contagious laughter. I can't get that through the computer screen. Then again, only one or two even try anymore. I can't get that through the phone or on TV or even from my memories. Not the laughter I'm talking about.

I guess for now, I'll settle for the chuckles, the smirks and the giggles. It beats the alternative.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Free Writing - Take 62

I just woke up, so I'm limiting myself to three minutes. I usually attempt humor when I first awake, but lately I've found the outside world, at least the one I'm connected to through technology, to be a sad place. Everyone wanting affection for their woes, reminding me of those children I miss, who care not if the attention comes from their positive or negative actions. They just need it. The nanny doesn't replace the parent, the parent doesn't replace both parents. The kid who wants to have a catch or to have a tea party. Both parents too busy, but the reality is we're all too busy for any adult who desires this attention. Some even use their children, to entrap us. Playing on the emotions they know some of us can't let go of. Then there are those who need something, but know not what it is. New pressures, white lies or just loneliness. I sit back in my big chair laughing, occasionally a tear.