Been having a "different lenses,new day" type of second look at my blog, and have noticed just how much of a joy it used to be creating special weekly content on here...
In addition to regular posts, there were times when I'd would rhapsodize about a particular event, movie,tune, or whatever tomfoolery that struck my fancy.
I like that type of silly knockoff investigative reporting..
Got to thinking that I would probably dig getting back into the saddle of doing some of those..
For instance, I haven't done a weekend confection...in years. Same for time out for cool peeps.And it doesn't even have to be as involved as those. I also used to introduce music/bands that amused or surprised me mostly because...
1. They were modern.
..and
2. They didn't suck.
With that in mind, I'd like to take a little sentimental trip back and do a quick one for this week.
Our featured tune timer out-er?
Shiny Toy Guns- Wait For Me..
If you're not familiar(and really why should you be..unless you're just really up with obscure modern tunes..or you happen to know modern music at all..eh..nevermind..I see that I'm alone in this..end of rant.),these folks did a cover of "Major Tom", which admittedly was an obsession of mine for a few(maybe longer than a few perhaps..).
Their version didn't really hold a candle to the original(Really though how would that even be possible?), instead was a curious yet altogether unnecessary alternative.
"Wait For Me" came up randomly on my Google Play...as I had managed,on one of my many music raiding sojourns to the local library, to rip/upload one of their albums with the lily white legality of a sidewalk merchant turning a quick buck selling tasty snickerdoodles.
......
The song turns out to be surprisingly earwormy after you get past some awful crap at the very beginning of the tune.
A little known fact about me:
I really don't care for singers whispering nonsense in my ear or some weird dude shouting.
Normally this sort of tune wouldn't appeal to me whatsoever(probably elicit some creative profanities and get thrown somewhere..truth be told.)...especially with it being something modern as I have so little respect for the current medium...more on that some other time (but careful, I tend to be very thorough on that point..understatement coughcough.)
So..by a level of indifference to the background noise of the moment, I managed to get past the creepy vocal nonwords and emo guy yelling...after that, not too bad.
Almost.. catchy.
Give it a go if you're feeling brave-
And if not, you can go drifting.. falling..floating.. weightless with the original "Major Tom"...which never fails to impress.
Thank you, Peter Schilling, for having the foresight to rip off an abandoned character and crafting that sexy synth chorus.
Bravo, sir.
Seriously..what a wonder that one hit is-
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
It must surely break..
Okay, it's been ages, I get that. Let's just go right into it all, shall we?
Let's see. When was the last time I had a 'real' post..hmmm.. That's probably around April-May or so. I just really haven't had the urge to strut my stuff in the written world, as I'm sure you well know. That's pretty much been business as usual on this blog of late. If I'm not making a point to tell that I can't write, I do a semi-bs post about nothingness..or a fun but fluff Balderdash one(which, in that, has been sometime between..)
Okay then. Down to it.
Collectcollectcollect thoughts.
May of last year:
Still working at book warehouse..not too bad, a little tedious in doing the same thing over and again. The morning hours were becoming something of a standard, although I did still struggle with them after nearly a year and change. I am not, have not been, nor will I ever be a morning person. People seem to enjoy telling you that as you age, the idea of waking early to "savor" the day and make a buck becomes more important, and in turn, an at least tolerable experience.
I'm not taken in with that train of thought. I'm 30, and mornings are still crap and unnecessary to me. That's not going to change. You are who you are, and whatever personality traits you have won't change. Habits may, but you are you. I'm a night owl.
Okay, so there's that. Working like a champ, finding written treasures daily (a blessing and a curse in truth...more curse these days but more on that in a few.), making a decent chunk of change every week, and notwithstanding the usual company wank-offs (this change and that change, and don't do it this way, and so on..), it was going pretty well. The job itself was a level of consistency that I hadn't experienced in quite a while, and for that I was grateful for it.
It made me feel like..dare I say.. a grownup. And for once, I didn't shun the sensation. Went with it, and prospered.
Okay. There's April-May. In May, I get a call out of the blue about my biological father, whom I haven't had any contact whatsoever with for the better part of my formative years and most of my adult life. And so, he's dying and wants to see his "boys" before he shuffles off this mortal coil. Dilemma is the best word to describe it. Yes, I'm all for the clear conscience and high ideas of reconciliation before your end. Good. You want to feel like you did right by those you've wronged, made amends for the scummery you enacted.
Right. But...why the "draw nearer to me" after all these years? I battled with that one. We have/had nothing to say to each other. If anything, I've always felt that he had one son, and I wasn't it. But whatever. Fine. I'd go back home and let the sleeping dogs lie for him. I'm unfortunately someone who finds it very hard to forget pain. It lingers. Yeah, nearly 20 years later, and I remember all too well the darkness. But again, part of me understood the closure bit, and I went along with it. Everyone deserves a little bit of grace, no matter who or what they were.
And for me, I figured I too could use a door to shut and get on with my life. That wasn't to be. He passed before that could happen. Even so, I went home, did the brave face routine, found my breaking point at the parlor, and eventually tried to forgive the best I could.
I meant to write about it here after it happened, but I lost the nerve. Sometimes when it's all there in print, it forces you to see it clearly. After a time, I stopped caring...pushed it to the back of my head, not wanting any more association with it. I don't do well with things that push me to consider harder than I prefer. That's one of those. I feel cheated...
That's been hard to admit.
I didn't get a chance to yell, to release the horror story, to verbally vomit the hardened anger that smoldered for far too long. When I did 'confront' him, all that was left was sadness...regrets...a balloon inside that lazily let out air before wilting. And to compound that was this unfortunate noticing of how much I looked like him. His death mask seemed a mirror of myself aged forward 30 years. And I hated it so much. It brought back 1990 in detail. Disowned and told I'm not his kid. Looking at that face was a last bitter laugh.
So there's that.
Okay, flash forward to November. Still working at warehouse.. People are being entirely too standoffish lately. Something big was going to happen, but everyone in upper management was being real hush-hush. Little things at first. "No need for the safety meeting this month guys.." and "We're making weekends mandatory until further notice.." Hmmm.. To milk as much as you possibly can until you rip the rug out from under us? Right right.
Then out of the blue, in the conference room. Your services are no longer required, SLC. Here's your severance. Have a nice life.
Or..
As I heard it :
Eff you very much. Nevermind that you took this plant and made it shine across the company board, or that your consistency was the very thing that made us want to send more export to your plant. Oh, right, we had to keep pushing that back because you were so incredibly efficient, completing your shipments a full month and a half before the other plants. Right. Yes. Suck it and get out.
Lovely.
No worries. Things actually worked better than they should have. Again, I felt my world changing (as it often quickly tends to..), and yet for one of the few times in my life, I was semi-prepared for it. Severance, savings, and unemployment funds kept me afloat. That, and the kindness of true friends..and their furry "kids".
That about brings us to date. New job landed in February. It's a better situation. Less money, yes, but back on the road to consistency. In a few months, full time will be attainable. For the time being, I'm pretty content. The only thing that's missing is the urge to write. I'm always riding that wave though. Either it comes and nags me until I can't stand it and must get the feelings out....or absolute nothingness. Just a full on blank with no immediacy to change. Stagnant, without aim, no creative heart and soul.
But it's there. The truth is even when I do these functional writings, it still counts. It's a half life of what I really want in terms of output and feeling, but any writing is more than I've been doing.
Just need to stop putting it on hold. Life happens, and I'm all about experiencing it when it happens. But it can't hurt to jot a note here and there too.
Let's see. When was the last time I had a 'real' post..hmmm.. That's probably around April-May or so. I just really haven't had the urge to strut my stuff in the written world, as I'm sure you well know. That's pretty much been business as usual on this blog of late. If I'm not making a point to tell that I can't write, I do a semi-bs post about nothingness..or a fun but fluff Balderdash one(which, in that, has been sometime between..)
Okay then. Down to it.
Collectcollectcollect thoughts.
May of last year:
Still working at book warehouse..not too bad, a little tedious in doing the same thing over and again. The morning hours were becoming something of a standard, although I did still struggle with them after nearly a year and change. I am not, have not been, nor will I ever be a morning person. People seem to enjoy telling you that as you age, the idea of waking early to "savor" the day and make a buck becomes more important, and in turn, an at least tolerable experience.
I'm not taken in with that train of thought. I'm 30, and mornings are still crap and unnecessary to me. That's not going to change. You are who you are, and whatever personality traits you have won't change. Habits may, but you are you. I'm a night owl.
Okay, so there's that. Working like a champ, finding written treasures daily (a blessing and a curse in truth...more curse these days but more on that in a few.), making a decent chunk of change every week, and notwithstanding the usual company wank-offs (this change and that change, and don't do it this way, and so on..), it was going pretty well. The job itself was a level of consistency that I hadn't experienced in quite a while, and for that I was grateful for it.
It made me feel like..dare I say.. a grownup. And for once, I didn't shun the sensation. Went with it, and prospered.
Okay. There's April-May. In May, I get a call out of the blue about my biological father, whom I haven't had any contact whatsoever with for the better part of my formative years and most of my adult life. And so, he's dying and wants to see his "boys" before he shuffles off this mortal coil. Dilemma is the best word to describe it. Yes, I'm all for the clear conscience and high ideas of reconciliation before your end. Good. You want to feel like you did right by those you've wronged, made amends for the scummery you enacted.
Right. But...why the "draw nearer to me" after all these years? I battled with that one. We have/had nothing to say to each other. If anything, I've always felt that he had one son, and I wasn't it. But whatever. Fine. I'd go back home and let the sleeping dogs lie for him. I'm unfortunately someone who finds it very hard to forget pain. It lingers. Yeah, nearly 20 years later, and I remember all too well the darkness. But again, part of me understood the closure bit, and I went along with it. Everyone deserves a little bit of grace, no matter who or what they were.
And for me, I figured I too could use a door to shut and get on with my life. That wasn't to be. He passed before that could happen. Even so, I went home, did the brave face routine, found my breaking point at the parlor, and eventually tried to forgive the best I could.
I meant to write about it here after it happened, but I lost the nerve. Sometimes when it's all there in print, it forces you to see it clearly. After a time, I stopped caring...pushed it to the back of my head, not wanting any more association with it. I don't do well with things that push me to consider harder than I prefer. That's one of those. I feel cheated...
That's been hard to admit.
I didn't get a chance to yell, to release the horror story, to verbally vomit the hardened anger that smoldered for far too long. When I did 'confront' him, all that was left was sadness...regrets...a balloon inside that lazily let out air before wilting. And to compound that was this unfortunate noticing of how much I looked like him. His death mask seemed a mirror of myself aged forward 30 years. And I hated it so much. It brought back 1990 in detail. Disowned and told I'm not his kid. Looking at that face was a last bitter laugh.
So there's that.
Okay, flash forward to November. Still working at warehouse.. People are being entirely too standoffish lately. Something big was going to happen, but everyone in upper management was being real hush-hush. Little things at first. "No need for the safety meeting this month guys.." and "We're making weekends mandatory until further notice.." Hmmm.. To milk as much as you possibly can until you rip the rug out from under us? Right right.
Then out of the blue, in the conference room. Your services are no longer required, SLC. Here's your severance. Have a nice life.
Or..
As I heard it :
Eff you very much. Nevermind that you took this plant and made it shine across the company board, or that your consistency was the very thing that made us want to send more export to your plant. Oh, right, we had to keep pushing that back because you were so incredibly efficient, completing your shipments a full month and a half before the other plants. Right. Yes. Suck it and get out.
Lovely.
No worries. Things actually worked better than they should have. Again, I felt my world changing (as it often quickly tends to..), and yet for one of the few times in my life, I was semi-prepared for it. Severance, savings, and unemployment funds kept me afloat. That, and the kindness of true friends..and their furry "kids".
That about brings us to date. New job landed in February. It's a better situation. Less money, yes, but back on the road to consistency. In a few months, full time will be attainable. For the time being, I'm pretty content. The only thing that's missing is the urge to write. I'm always riding that wave though. Either it comes and nags me until I can't stand it and must get the feelings out....or absolute nothingness. Just a full on blank with no immediacy to change. Stagnant, without aim, no creative heart and soul.
But it's there. The truth is even when I do these functional writings, it still counts. It's a half life of what I really want in terms of output and feeling, but any writing is more than I've been doing.
Just need to stop putting it on hold. Life happens, and I'm all about experiencing it when it happens. But it can't hurt to jot a note here and there too.
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