Although I am not  very clean or organized, I try and get my act together on Sunday night.  The  following habits make the week run smoothly with less fuss and running around.

1. Make the bed with fresh sheets

Who knows what the week will throw at me? And should something bad happen, I know a nice clean bed is waiting for me. I’ll be spending 320 + hours in bed during the week and Idon’t want to feel wrapped in last week’s dirt when I go to sleep and wake up.

2. Auto-time the coffee machine

My coffee machine has a programmable timer. At 7am, it automatically shoots out delicious smelling coffee. Crawling out of bed is a little less painful. Treat yourself to one  if you don’t have it!

3. Cut up ingredients

I cut up onions and grate cheese and store them in the fridge. Ready to grab after work to make dinner. Could also do the same with carrots and celery sticks.

4. Prepare 5 days worth of clothes, including socks + underpants.

I wish I had one of those amazing closets like Cher in Clueless, where all the outfits are computerized. Alas, my closet is a bit of a jumble EXCEPT I try to have 5 work-type outfits for the week ahead.  Makes the morning less frantic and decreases the likelihood that I’ll show up to work wearing a dirty old sweater and fishnets.

How do you spend your Sunday nights? What works for you?

Everyone in the family will find their personal favorite when you fill your Road Trip Planner with the places between the dry desert climate surrounding Salt Lake City, Utah and the salty sea air found in Bar Harbor, Maine.

This great road trip covers more than 2600 miles and 13 states so pencil in at least two weeks in your road trip planner. Three weeks would be ideal if you’re making it a Round Trip Road Trip.

So, with thirteen states to cover, how does one choose among the 1000s of things to do? Narrow the field by sticking as close as possible to the direct route. With the price of gas these days, concentrate on the free and affordable activities along the route.

I recommend filling your road trip planner with the following cities, where you’ll drive about 200 miles per day.

With Salt Lake City sitting on the edge of the Wasatch Mountains, spend a few hours hiking along the paths or have a picnic at the Wasatch Mountain State Park. Enjoy the Rock Springs Historic Museum once you cross over into Wyoming, spending your first night at the Rock Springs Days Inn.

The next day, remain in Wyoming while still traveling about 250 miles to the state capital, Cheyenne for your second night. Consider adding Colorado to your road trip planner by taking a short side-trip into Fort Collins, Colorado and spend the night in Lexington, Nebraska, where you can enjoy antique shopping and fishing while staying at a Victorian house, converted into a B & B. Spend your fourth night in Omaha, about 220 miles down the road from Lexington. Be sure to shop & stroll through the Old Market, where you’ll find a bit of everything; art, shops, cafes, restaurants and music!

The fourth state to add to your road trip planner is Iowa as you’ll be stopping at your second state capital, Des Moines before continuing on for an overnight at Iowa City, where you’ll find a number of very affordable hotels.

Cut north a bit past Joliet, Illinois so you can enjoy the Chicago nightlife. Chicago has lots of things to do so you might want to stay a second night there and drive the following morning through Indiana (about 250 miles) to Toledo, Ohio. Be sure to check out the Maumee Antique Mall, which has over 120,000 square feet for you to wander through (there’s also a smaller Antique Mall in downtown Toledo).

Hit the road again, passing through Cleveland, Ohio, and enjoy the view along Lake Erie, spending night in Erie, Pennsylvania (you should be able to find a room with a view). The next morning, enjoy the waterfront area in Buffalo, New York before continuing east to spend the night at Syracuse. You’ll want to add your 3rd state capital in Albany to your road trip planner before heading towards Boston. Here you might also want to stay two nights for a rich, historical experience.

You can actually travel through 3 states in one day in less than 250 miles as you leave Boston, with stops in Salem, then Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and passing through Portland, Maine and staying at a cozy lodge in Bangor, Maine.

At this point, you’re near your final destination of Bar Harbor, Maine. Reward yourself by adding the Acadia National Park to your Road Trip Planner and revel in the Fall colors, a perfect ending to a remarkable road trip.

Well, its 2′o clock in the morning and here I am sitting in front of my lappy. This isn’t new to me as I am used to staying up late into the night. But today is different. Almost everyone of the 250 odd children of my hostel have gone to sleep. Am still sitting an staring at my desktop [which happens to have Deepika Padukone as the background image ] and listening to “500 Days of Summer OST” [the movie was awesome and so is the sound track]. I wanted to read some book, but the only one I was interested was taken by another friend. So am still sitting and staring [but the track's changed-it's now Broken-Lifehouse]. Having nothing to do I started to reflect on my day and realised that I woke up at 3 in the afternnon, missed lunch,had snacks, then dinner and then watched “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind“, played Counter Strike for an hour and chatted with an old friend.That’s all I did the entire day.

Now I will have to pause for some time as am going on a walk with some friends. I know it sounds odd, but trust me, nothing is more refreshing and soothing as a walk at 2:30 in the night with friends in Goa in the month of November

My next post will come soon and I guess it will be about something more important. Till then, adios

I don’t want to feel belittled.

I don’t want to be around anyone or anything that makes me feel less than I am.  No, I want to feel big.  I want to grow.  I want to fill the space that my shell provides, I want to press into its corners and smooth myself into its crevasses – even ooze out the sides a little.  I want to send deep roots to forge down into the past and nest themselves there among the thick dust and the rich memories. I want a strong, rough, tough base so that I can grow higher.

I don’t want to be around anyone or anything that tries to box me in.  No, I want to expand.  I want to reach.  I want to push against the glass ceiling until it shatters, and then keep shooting up and out until I’m groaning against the canvas of the sky.  I want to press against that painting ’til I tear a hole and go sailing through into beyond.  I want the ambition of a thousand helium balloons.  I want to move fast and in every direction so that I can never be caught or held down.

I don’t want to be around anyone or anything that puts me down.  No, I want to succeed.  I want to stand tall.  I want to sprint to every finish line, and stop to smell the roses in the middle.  I want to ride unicorns, not horses, eat manna, not bread, see shooting stars in the daytime as well as at night.  I want to write, love, feel, live, sing, dance, and cry until I break.  I never want to hesitate.  I never want to wait.  I want the breath of a dragon and the heart of a prince in this gypsy’s frame.  I want words to build me a fortress, an armour, a sheath for my body to crawl into when it expires.  I want to feel as invincible as I am.

No, I don’t want to feel belittled.  I don’t want to be around anyone or anything that puts me down, tries to box me in, makes me feel less than I am.  And what am I?

I am the Universe.

Cool and crisp. Like biting an apple. Bright and brisk. You like my friend and I.
Run on run on. We don’t want it to end. Come on come on. We don’t want to go in.

Running around the house. The air is so thin we can run all day.
It’s getting dark, but its still early. I know its dark, but can we stay?

We don’t realize how poor we really are, not on a day like this.
There are no toys that were made by anyone other than us.

We don’t care how dirty we are, there’s still so much left to do.
Fights to fight, things to find, animals to see, trees to climb.

Still calling, I know, I know, I can hear you.
But we play on and I pretend that I can’t.

I’m coming. We’re almost done.
That was ten minutes ago.

We’re hunched over.
But wanting more.

See you friend.
Tomorrow.

What time do you think this photo was taken?

It was actually 2300hrs on a night at the beginning of June this year in Norfolk, UK. Camera: Fujifilm Finepix S1000fd.

It’s been a busy two weeks. Two shows have been transmitted. So, what happened during these two shows? Well I’ll tell you.

FRIDAY 13/11/2009

Friday the 13th. The day associated with everything crashing around you. Strangely, for the Friday Night Lounge, that wasn’t the case.

The show went well. Although, I did notice that the mp3 CD problem wasn’t to do with the CD decks. It was the CDs themselves. The discs were brand spanking new, so I’m assuming it was something to do with the burning settings.

Anyway, inbetween playing music from the Kaiser Chiefs, Happy Mondays, Abba and Donna Lewis, we talked about: Didier Drogba’s generous donation towards an Ivory Coast hospital; a robber sending his own mugshot to the police; why 30,000 people in UK still watch television in black and white; and a proposed 93 page guide for police officers telling them how to ride a bicycle.

Of course, along with that, we had the usual Trivia’s Cocktail. This week it was about Formula One, the connection between the FISA-FOCA war of the 1980s and the FIA-FOTA row, was they both threatened breakaway championships.

Plus, That’s From this week was an easy one. Goldfinger by Shirley Bassey from, you’ve guessed it, Goldfinger – the third Bond film staring Sean Connery.

That was last week’s edition. What I didn’t know was that the next week would be a bumpy ride.

FRIDAY 20/11/2009

Waking up to only 5 hours of sleep; being soaked while waiting for a bus; stuck in a jammed supermarket car park; along with a bad week in general, I wasn’t wanting anything else to go wrong.

Arrived at the studio around at 6:45pm. Began to set everything up. After that, and a few phone calls to friends about other affairs to kill the time later, I was all ready to go. The great thing about being in the studio with an hour or so to showtime, is that you get to relax and ponder on things. When you’ve done everything you needed to that is.

And with Children In Need being on BBC 1, I was expecting a lower listener reach. I mean, who would rather listen to some nutter playing music and then chatting inbetween like a madman, when one of the biggest broadcasts on the British TV calendar is on? So, less pressure on me then. Providing it goes to plan.

9:03, Smooth Radio completes it’s hourly news bulletin. Fade out. Cue a Slow Radio West Fife jingle. Fade up the mic. “It’s Friday 20th of November. And this is the show you only listen to because the Television is broken…” I said, introducing the show before starting the theme tune. Then I did the standard procedure of outlining what was coming up on the show. Then fade out to Genie In A Bottle by Christina Aguilera.

What happened next was another example of me having a bad day. As Genie In A Bottle was about to fade out, I was about to fade up my microphone to begin discussing Children In Need. When I realised something…

On the mixing desk, at the very top, are two rows of buttons. The first row were PGM buttons. When on, whatever gets said or played, is transmitted to the listener’s headsets across the hospital. The second row were AUD buttons. These mean “audition” and when they are on, whatever gets said or played can be heard in the studio.

The PGM button on the presenter’s mic was off. It was off since I went on air.

So what the listeners heard, instead of me self-deprecating and introducing the programme, was: 30 seconds of silence and a theme tune faded up and down slightly at various points.

I normally leave it off before I go on air, so then anything unbroadcastable (like a private conversation with friends or swearing at faulty equipment) doesn’t get transmitted if I accidentally nudge the mic’s fader up.

I thought I pressed it. But in my blind panic, I obviously didn’t press the PGM button hard enough. A schoolboy error, frankly. So after Genie In A Bottle, and pressing the PGM button, I had to make the quickest introduction ever.

Apart from that, the first hour was uneventful. For once, the show was running bang on time. Unlike three to four minutes fast it usually is. Throughout the show we talked about how you can get your name translated into other languages, and find out what they mean. Along with, Crocodile Fossils and where to get a tuxedo for only £30.

Plus, this week’s That’s From returned to the adverts with Search For The Hero by M People, this appeared in the Peugeot 406 advert during the mid-1990s. And as for Trivia’s Cocktail, it was quite a fizzy one. With a single share in the company from 1919 worth $92,500 by 1997 and it’s name came from it’s medicinal ingredients. The link is of course Coca-Cola. Which reminds me, their Christmas adverts should be on soon.

It brought a bad week to a close. Thank god!

Well, hopefully I should also be starting voice-over work again. Schedule permitting. I may even put them up here for you to hear. We’ll see.

So tonight I had the opportunity to shoot OK GO at USC’s Conquest. It’s a pretty unique event, a huge rally of various events the weekend before the UCLA vs. USC game. In addition to have OK GO perform, there was a ferris wheel, the burning of a wooden bruin (the flame was well over 20 feet high at one point), performance from the marching band, and a stand up act from Jamie Kennedy.  Though the vast majority of the shots I got from tonight were in the press pit and were more typical photos, I decided to choose this one because it’s not everyday the vocalist goes out into the crowd to perform a song.

Almost 7 minutes of pure laughter. Sadly it’s more truth than fantasy.

A.K.A. the week of the attack of the B-list celebrities.

I’ll start off by saying that I did not get in this week. Very depressing, considering I spent 18 hours on the street waiting for ticket number 3 for the live show. I would have been safe, had it not been for the wave of celebs (mostly “stars” of “The Office” and several other B-listers such as Alexis Bledel, Michelle Trachtenberg, and GLEE’s Dianna Agron) who arrived around 11:20, with some jumping in the elevators as late as 11:29. Keep in mind that the show starts at 11:30. So these unimportant celebrities can show up while the show is starting and are allowed to go up, and the 30 of us stand-by ticket holders who waited as long as 21 hours in line who were being held in a roped-off section of the elevator bay like so many cattle had to watch painfully as those long hours out in the cold were washed down the drain.

We got to 30 Rock at about 1 p.m. Friday and were numbers 6-8 in line. 1 and 2 were this sweet old couple visiting from Kentucky who ended up getting in to the live show. At about 2, I walked up to the Bed, Bath & Beyond just north of Trump Tower to get another blanket so that the down comforter I’d brought off my bed wouldn’t go directly on the sidewalk. It was a nice walk. I went back through Central Park and thoroughly enjoyed all the fall colors. I ended up with a hot pink fleece blanket that is very cute and very soft.

We had a pretty good time in the line. I got a pretzel sticks and a pretzel dog from Auntie Anne’s. It was the first time I’d had Auntie Anne’s since July or August and it was delicious. Then I splurged on a Tall White Mocha and that was delicious as well. Apparently Lorne Michaels came out around 9 p.m. and I missed him. Bobby Moynihan came out much later and stood and talked with us for 5-10 minutes. Very nice guy. I got a picture with him. But those were pretty much the highlights of the night. It was pretty uneventful. I read a lot and actually got a bit of homework done. We didn’t spend as much time this week up walking around.

When it came time to decide between the dress rehearsal and the live show, we were planning on playing it safe and going for the dress, but we thought “Hey, Dave Matthews Band has been on SNL several times and hardly anyone knows who Joseph Gordon-Levitt is, so we’re probably safe going for the live show.” So, stupidly, we got the white tickets for the live show instead of the blue ones for the dress. Mistake.

We got back to 30 Rock at about 10:30. Right as we got there, Will Ferrell and his wife and kids, and Jack Nicholson and his two lady friend were headed upstairs. At about 11:00, we saw Chevy Chase standing around and talking before heading up. That was the best part of the whole weekend, seeing Chevy Chase. They corralled us through security and into the holding pen and we stood there for around 30 minutes, dripping sweat and feeling more discouraged with every second. We all cheered for the Kentucky couple when they got to go up, sighed with indignation and gave dirty looks when celebrities went up, and groaned with disappointment when we were told to leave.

All in all, not a very successful weekend. There’s no show this coming weekend so it’ll be nice to have a week off. Until next time…

Book Six — Chapter Four The Pillars of Adam’s Early Wisdom, Therapy, His Courtship of Ganya Mede, A Spasmodic Interlude, Engagement

CONTENTS

Since the days when Adam had therapy and now, it has been generally conceded that the most effective “analysis” has more to do with interaction, understanding and wisdom than a particular theory of personality, a matrix into which you might squeeze someone who simply does not fit.

Erik Erikson, for example, devised a completely wise notion of life’s stages that still stands up among the proliferating theories of everything that are floating about. I say this because we will encounter Adam in therapy in this chapter and his therapist did not have the capacity to deal with Adam on a plane of insight and wisdom as much as on a theoretical model that caught and dwelt upon a single element of Adam’s life, albeit an important one. Mildred!

Let me set the scene.

Adam returned to Union. I really cannot suggest that Adam consciously absorbed much there, though when he finished, with perfectly good grades, he was in fact mildly well-versed in the subjects such a place verses you in. I say this because the actual development of Adam’s understanding was a matter of many decades and multiple layering upon a core of initial insights that, as I have already indicated, had more to do with Adam’s early experience than with the ministrations of Union Theological Seminary. Let me suggest what this core is.

Freedom and will. Adam’s thinking at Exeter and Williams affirmed what he had thought from his earliest days at Parousia in the face of bullies and tweaks. We have at least some freedom to react to things. We have a will which leaves us with options in the face of the intolerable or in the presence of an ineffable desire. At Union his own will was bent in the direction of demonstrating the constrictions of St. Augustine’s dismal notion that sin so clouded the human horizon that it was not possible at every point to avoid its presence and its consequences. Only in a realm beyond life itself, in the salvific arms of the Savior, might one be free not to sin. Pshah! said our hero.

Universality. Before Adam subjected his mind to the instruction of others, he was well on the way to the universal understanding that was indeed natural to him. It was the foundation of his ill-fated phony radio address at Sinicock; the reason he always inspected the eyes of others as he rambled around Manhattan, looking for sparks, sensing whatever one ended up getting was the result of their appropriation of the universal spark; the origin of his modest efforts to speak out against the bullies of Parousia and the exclusivists of St. Gandolphs. And it would soon make him a natural candidate for participation in the civil rights movement that was beginning (once again) across the South. At Union he steeped himself in the origins of Universalism, the preaching of a man named James Relly in England and its influence on one John Murray who was the founded of Universalism in America. He discerned universalism in the writings of St. Paul, in the theology of Origen and in the thinking of Karl Barth.

There were lesser pillars. Some did not appear until he had written several books and made interminable speeches he would have gladly taken back had he already seen what he eventually saw.

I mention these things to set a scene for Adam’s decision to enter therapy. None of the thinking described had much to do with the simple imperative that he took to heart on the porch of the Red Lion Inn. Let me quote it in full. Reginald had said: “Find a good wife, Adam. Make sure she’s healthy. Good genes. The whole thing. Whatever you do, do that.”

It may be reckoned wisdom or folly, but it was Adam’s will to deal with this single issue that propelled him into what might be called therapy lite, two or three hours a week with an East Side psychiatrist named Lance Iliff. He was recommended by religion and psychiatry department at the seminary. Adam presented his problem as being unable to sustain a relationship with a female. As the appointments moved along, Iliff became somewhat impatient with what he perceived as a certain coyness (resistance) on Adam’s part. He finally broke through the curtain of silence then in vogue to suggest that Adam’s situation might have to do with his mother. This was an area that our hero had no interest in exploring. He had no idea whether Mildred had messed him up for relationships or not. He just wanted to get over the hump as it were.

And thereby emerges the payoff of Year Two at Union. Adam found a mate. When he did so, he told Dr. Iliff thank you and took the bus back to Morningside Heights.

Enter Ganya Mede. God, what a name! But it is dead on true. Ganya Mede was a quite beautiful, palpably intelligent and seemingly assured (we’ll get to that) graduate of Wellesley College who was being pursued by at least two other resolute Union students. She was at the Seminary with no stated purpose other than to continue her studies. These shaded off into the arcane. Names such as John Dee, Emmanuel Swedenborg and Joseph Campbell fell from her delectable lips with an aplomb that might have accompanied mention of rock stars, had there been any such back then. Adam made up his mind he would need to work to attain Ganya’s consent and work he did.

There was dashing southern fellow who had an eye for all women. Adam dismissed him as ephemeral, hardly worth a direct confrontation. There was another fellow, bespectacled like Adam, who clearly enjoyed Ganya’s company and venerated her substantial intellect. Adam rated him well worth direct confrontation. This meant a cautionary conversation. But before he could warn this person off, another event occurred, at once exceedingly painful and enormously productive.

Adam had been actively pursuing Ganya for a few weeks when he was invited to a party in McGiffert Hall, the women’s main residence. It was an unseasonably warm winter night. Adam entered the inner quadrangle of the seminary and oriented himself in a westerly direction. He then broke into a furious sprint no of no more than 40 yards or so, He then walked up to the Claremont Avenue exit and across the street to McGiffert Hall. He ascended by foot to an upper floor and was soon ensconced on a soft and comfortable couch, nursing a beer and keeping an eye out for the one he had determined fit every one of Reginald’s criteria and then some.

The party dragged on but Ganya did not appear. Adam was sufficiently confident that this in itself was not a major problem. He would have her for life, he assumed. He stood. At that very instant, a searing pain enveloped his entire lower back. Its epicenter was near the base of his spine. To make this excruciating story short, our hero wound up that very night laid out on a bed in St. Lukes Hospital sated with pain pills. He did not move for a full week. He accomplished all needful things from this recumbent position, including the winning of Ganya,

Yes, it seems Adam knew a thing or two about courtship. He put out the word to visitors that he needed an audience with Ganya. In several days, his wish was granted. When she finally appeared, he pressed his suit. He told her that his competitors were doomed to fall unless they were as serious as he. His confidence was so palpable that he could see it register on her surprised face.He spoke of lives in close proximity, having children, having a partnership as it were. And so forth and so on.

When he got out of the hospital, he had a similar conversation with the serious bespectacled fellow. Unless his interest was similarly strong, Adam said, he should back off. Within a month of his seemingly complete recovery, he went up to Stockbridge, told Reginald things were proceeding well and took took the Dauphine back to the city for the home stretch. This involved almost daily trips to Ganya’s fourth floor walk up on west 99th street, shared with a fellow Wellesley graduate named Karen, temperamental but in her own way most interesting. The neighboring flat was occupied by a remarkable young man named Niels Gabel-Jorgenson, a Dane like Erik Erikson, an architect and undoubtedly the funniest companion Adam was ever to have the pleasure of laughing with. He and Ganya were now an item and Adam found their amiability pleasurable. There were no obstacles in his way.

On an early spring evening, Adam took Ganya for a night drive through Central Park in the Renault. They came out on Fifth Avenue and headed south. They ended up walking in Adam’s favorite childhood area, the promenade leading to the skating rink at Rockefeller Center. In the recessed doorway of the Librarie Francais, Adam popped the question. Ganya said she needed time to think. They made a circuit of the park and pulled into the turnoff to the Tavern on the Green. She said yes. Mission accomplished.

The next evening, Adam told Mabel and Melchizedek he was engaged and secured from Mildred a handsome ring Calista had worn when she married Martin Panflick back in Cleveland almost at the start of this saga. Later that night, Adam slipped it the ring finger of Ganya Mede.

CONTENTS

Not the best product name, not the best tasting either but it has its advantages.

Lets look a little closer…

Sainsbury’s Basics Chicken Roll (400g)
94p
(23.5p / 100g)

Description: Reformed from pieces of chicken with added water, chicken fat and skin.
Average 40 slices
yummy added chicken fat and skin… mmm skin

per 100g   per slice
Cal                       224kCal      N/A
Fat                      15.4g             1.5g
Sat Fat               4.3g              N/A
Sugar                 1.1g               N/A
Salt                    2.3g              N/A

Ingredients
Chicken (58%), Water, Chicken Fat, Chicken Skin, Modified Waxy Maize Starch, Milk Protein (Cows’ Milk Protein, Lactose (Cows’ Milk Sugar)), Salt, Flavouring (With Wheat Gluten), Stabiliser (Pentasodium Triphosphate).

Chicken roll containing Cow! that’s not cool, what if you don’t eat Cow (yes I said Cow)

Allergies Information
Contains Wheat Gluten, Milk, Cows’ milk, Lactose & Milk Proteins

Nutrition

nutrient                                per 100g            per slice
Energy kCal                        224 kCal                 N/A
Energy kJ                            934 kJ                   N/A
Protein                                14.2 g                       N/A
Carbohydrate                    7.2 g                        N/A
of which sugars                1.1 g                         N/A
Fat                                      15.4 g                      1.5 g
of which saturates           4.3 g                       N/A
Fibre                                  0.5 g                       N/A
Sodium                             0.9 g                       N/A
Salt                                    2.3 g                       N/A

So after reading all that its either put you off already or your dying to know more.

First Impressions

After opening the packet, visually its not very pleasing (as pictured above). It almost looks like it has freckles which was a bit of a put off, including all the little holes that were obviously where the gristle/bone was taken out.

What Can Be Done With It?

Well most obviously put in a sandwich!. I think I put something that resembled this last year cut up into a pasta sauce. Not a very versitile food… thing, but simplicity is good right?

In Sarnie mode it went alright with some mayo and english mustard so I would recommend strong tasting condiments to go with it.

Taste

Bare able, that’s really the best way I could put it. When eating a slice on its own the taste of “Chicken” is almost forgotten when you feel the grittiness of what it is. Sometimes some gristle that went under the radar goes crunch or there’s a bit of a shock with a odd almost sour aftertaste left in your mouth. In a sandwich its almost the same story except for the fact the mayo and mustard camouflages the aftertaste and the bread hides the grittiness.

Positives?… If any

It does cure one thing… The drunken munchies. Come home after a rough night down the SU, club, pub or mates flat and stuff a couple slices of this in a sarnie with whatever sauce in the house and it does fill a hole. Its even better when you have mates over. If you seem to raid their cupboards when your over theirs on the lash and they are over yours this time, demanding food after the amount of late night spag bowls you’ve had at theirs, just wack some of this into a triple decker sarnie for some friendly food loving. mmm good times.

Would you feed this to your friends?… I did and it went alright…ish

Overall

AVOID!

it really just isn’t worth the 94p

Enjoy

D

So, I was driving on the highway the other night in the pitch black. I never really realized that when you drive there is actually a lot of time to just think. I mean, really, even with music in the background I could really think about anything in the world. Yet, despite all of that I kept my mind focused on the serenity of the forest and the almost empty road.

My truck was slowly racing over those miles and distance back to campus shortened and all I could see was the dark outline of the trees against the darker sky. I started to wonder how many people really see the night.

This may seem sorta random in my though process, but it just struck me as unique. How many times a day do we get caught up with what we are doing or thinking of just larger bigger things, but sometimes we forget that sometimes the world does have something to show us once in a while. I guess it just takes a bit of observing and the right perspective.

Just from my driving I could just look and see it. The night was silent as well, which I do not get back home, yet up here among the Alleghenies it’s a different story. Black actually has different shades if you can see it carefully enough. I mean, sure there is gray and its variant forms, but as light comes closer to shadows it’s not really gray, just a ‘lighter’ black. I know that sounds sorta insignificant, but it was just something I noticed with the headlights.

I had a whole other set of thoughts going through my mind as well, but it’s hard to explain exactly that here. But, what I can say is that some people should take some time to do this. Life gets a bit busy sometimes and sometimes it’s just too raw and sometimes for our sake we just need to observe simplicity.

Well, I am going to jump back into life for now, but when the night drive calls I will not ignore it.

February 9, 2009. Nostalgia of months past come to haunt me now and then, but this is the first and only story I have documented on this computer. So, here goes.

where do we stand?

oh baby, baby it’s a wild world. It’s hard to get by just upon a smile.
And when the day comes and you blow me away with your cunning wit or your unavoidably devilish charm, I won’t be ready. I’ll believe myself to be hardened by the hard life, or by hard times, and there you’ll be, with your softened expression; and of course, hard & soft are polar opposites, are they not? And then you’ll tell me that I’ve had it all wrong because hard and soft are, in fact, completely in sync with one another because they’re not opposites, because you can have one and the other. And I’ll be lost because I only know the world in black and white. You’ll tell me that there’s the grey area, and then I’ll say yeh, I know about that. I know it, but I’m not going there, because your grey area is my black area and my grey area is your white area. And then you’ll stop me in my tracks when you say, “J’adore la couleur rouge.” I’ll say, “what?” And you’ll say “it’s a divine look, and I know it’ll look all the more amazing on you.” And then I’ll sit there stunned, flabbergasted; whatever it is that I will be, I will be. All I know of is black and white and the grey, le gris, gris monde. And then I’ll try to work my way out of it, that strange feeling; I’ll smile or get angry or something, and you’ll say, “oh baby, baby it’s a wild world.” I’ll ask if I can get by, just upon a smile, and you’ll say no, not because smiling is somehow connected to naivete, rather, because the smile is contrary to what’s going on inside.

You have my insides, and you’re pulling on the strings, and every which way I turn, it’s in your direction.

I don’t know how things are going to end up, but I’m here. It’s now. Document your truths while they remain your truths, and I’ll do the same. When we’re old and withered, we’ll show them to one another and observe how much we’ve grown up, how much we’ve grown down, how we’ve been so naïve, and how we’ve come to be so narrow-minded. Perhaps, in the idealistic minds of our youth, our truths now will remain our truth in forty years. Perhaps, I’m hardened as I believe I am, and I’ll tell myself for days, that my truth now is not universal. We change, and thus will our truths. And then, I’ll harden and soften, all at once and realize that that my truths are mine forever.
It’s inevitable, and we can cry, or we can dance, or we can go to a place away from here.

les nuits d’hiver
et nous sommes kilométres, kilométres loin.

Handheld, ISO 400, f/4.5, 37mm (35mm equivalent – 60mm), 1/5  sec. Taken from the sidewalk across the street.

Merkaz haRav Kook Yeshiva in Kiryat Moshe, Jerusalem, is one of the largest and best-known Religious Zionist yeshivas in the city.

This yeshiva is a boys’ high school and men’s post-secondary  institute for Jewish studies. I often pass it when I’m in Jerusalem. In the yeshiva world, it is customary for pairs of students (called a chevruta) to study together aloud. A pair of students is visible in the second floor window of the beit midrash (Hebrew: study hall), tipping their “shtenders” (Yiddish: book stands) so that they can read the texts easily.

Merkaz was the site of a terrible terrorist attack in March, 2008, in which 5 boys (students at the high school) and 3 men were shot and killed by an Arab driver who had worked for the yeshiva. Eleven others were wounded, five in serious condition.  The Jerusalem Post has the story. Israel National News has photos and details but be warned: these are pretty graphic.

I was pretty shaken up by the event because my son is the same age and studies in a large, well-known Religious Zionist yeshiva in Jerusalem. Some of his friends go to this school but, thank heavens, they were at the Western Wall at the time and hadn’t yet returned (these are dormitory schools, so the boys sleep there during the week). A friend who lives around the corner heard the whole thing. Had it been the night before our regularly scheduled photography class, I would have been there, too. It was quite a while before I could pass the yeshiva without thinking about the attack.

I had a photography class (not my regular one) the following morning in Machane Yehuda, in the center of Jerusalem. We were a pretty subdued bunch. After the class, I waited on Yaffo street at Davidka Square for a bus home. The police started blocking traffic and clearing the street. The funeral cortège bearing some of the victims for burial on Har haZeitim (Mount of Olives) passed by, followed by busloads of mourners. Everyone at the intersection was very quiet.

This photo shows that life has (almost) returned to normal at the yeshiva except, of course, for the families and friends of the victims.

Tay is on fire with “You You You”. We are seeing more and more of side “H” for hot! This masterpiece of near musical perfection is like a gift so near the holidays. The song starts in signature Tay Zonday style then transitions to a faster, deeper, sometimes echoing musing on love, want, desire, and longing. Barry White is gone but if Tay wished he could have overwhelmed us with a firestorm of guttural growls. Instead, he purposely emits a warm steady fire that slowly touches without burning.

The background for the video set the right tone for it’s fast pace. Hearing the song first you expect a scene similar to “Cherry Chocolate Rain”. Instead, we are left with imagery harkening to an outdoor concert. Not closed off at all but visuals full of freedom and expression.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZ8URhMkf7o

Shot from the roof of an apartment building in west Bloor.

Can’t make it out on Wednesdays? Need to work off some of those extra calories from that Turducken your aunt made for Thanksgiving? Then come check out Queer Fresno’s new event, Evolution, next Saturday night at the Starline in Fresno’s historic Tower district. Serving up a slightly different mix of music than our weekly party, INTEGRATION, Evolution is a your once a month Saturday night solution.

Can’t make it out on Wednesdays? Need to work off some of those extra calories from that Turducken your aunt made for Thanksgiving? Then come check out Queer Fresno’s new event, Evolution, next Saturday night at the Starline in Fresno’s historic Tower district. Serving up a slightly different mix of music than our weekly party, INTEGRATION, Evolution is a your once a month Saturday night solution.

Can’t make it out on Wednesdays? Need to work off some of those extra calories from that Turducken your aunt made for Thanksgiving? Then come check out Queer Fresno’s new event, Evolution, next Saturday night at the Starline in Fresno’s historic Tower district. Serving up a slightly different mix of music than our weekly party, INTEGRATION, Evolution is a your once a month Saturday night solution.

“the cloud” glows