Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Dumb as a Post

That could have many meanings in this venue.

I'm not sure if it is dimwittedness or uncertainty generated fear that causes some of my better moments; those semi catatonic instances when I am totally blank and dull, yet odd word combos are sent into the world from my vocal cords anyway.

For example--forget it, I won't detail the latest. Suffice to say a discussion of lawn mowers and weather stripping was about the last thing that made any sense in the context.

I have to write to get it out of my system. I'm timing the work day so that I have time to do what I need to do and don't get home until dark. That's the way of it. Why I am so clouded over, I am not sure. Apparently it is how this organism is wired.

I'm testing the pros and cons of a 3 day beard. Pros---it is simpler than shaving. Cons---being mostly gray, I look like the corner wino. Pro--looking like the corner wino, it wouldn't seem out of place to hit people up for a dollar outside the convenience store, or at intersections.

Conclusion---I better shave it off. Besides, when I had a non gray beard, as much fun as it can be, I missed being able to feel my face.

Pulling myself out of the fog, especially in search of enthusiasm and love of life, is an imperative, even if it is not easy. Why being fogged over and half asleep for no reason brings the spirits down, I'm not sure. It does, and it can lead to depression if I don't actively push through it. I downed a bunch of vitamins and some OJ, as well as some java. That seems to be helping.

This damned fog thing has haunted me on and off most of my adult life. There was even a time when people were seriously studying the thing. It goes a bit beyond the normal fatigue and muddiness of normal existence. Don't tell that to the arm chair neurologists I've known through the years. "Everyone feels like that". Good thing I didn't consult them that time I woke up with pneumonia. I wonder at people who are sure how everyone feels and thinks when it comes to matters which seriously impair the lives of others. They don't know.

Every time this comes over me, I notice my resentment of those I've stupidly tried to advise of the condition seems to surface. There is no simple way to frame it and I guess I only do it so they don't think it is a matter of like or dislike or an affront to be taken personally. I've discovered it is better to avoid people or just let them take things personally because the alternative always results in me thinking they think I am weak, which I probably am not.

I want to somehow not have those resentments any more. For one thing, it does nothing toward dissolving the fog, and for another, resentments are bad for your health; physical, mental, and spiritual. Better to seek to understand than to be understood. That is absolutely a key toward not being bummed out all the time. I don't even understand myself, how can I want or expect it from others? Accepted may be a different story. I'd like acceptance, even though I probably accept myself less than is prudent.

That almost covers things enough that I can clearly move forward with the day. The main thing that I think is rolling through my subconscious is the idea that I get tired of being alone but fear not being alone, even though that is really stupid. It is only when I am alone that such forces are at play. Not something to even consider purposely. Let it roll through, observe, and resist forming an opinion or fueling it one way or the other.

Where am I going to put all this stuff? There is too much to put under the bed and much of it won't fit anyway.

I've got to find a way to rent the movie Cadillac Records. I saw the beginning and it is killer. All about Chess Records, Muddy Waters and Little Walter. LW is often considered the best blues harp player ever, and he was only 17 when he got hooked up with Muddy. Just from what I saw, I could tell the music in the flick is stellar, and the cast superb.

Another time I may relay the events which led me to the discovery of the flick. It was one of those peculiar days in my life which lead me to cross paths with people in unexpected ways.

You Think I'm Strange? What about FOOD?

That's right, I find the whole food thing stranger than anything. Before I go into in depth analysis, let me give you an example of how sneaky food can be.

OK. So, I left my friends' house in the perfect part of the city this morning, with a belly full of vegetable juice--too many different ones to name; lots of green ones--and a cup of my favorite coffee; Cafe Pajaro. Parrot coffee from Trader Joe's. (just one more aside here: I would understand completely if a person relocated simply to be in close proximity to Trader Joe's. There were none near Memphis)

Continuing now, I had to be at job O in order to tour the forensic construction guy through the kitchen and explain what happened and when--long story, but it takes a tech with lots of gadgets to detect what needs detecting because the worst of it is not visible any more.

I also had to let the sound guy in to deal with the fried receiver/amp. What were they doing? King O and his conc. manage to fry a perfectly good sound system, and twist off a fancy, English made door knob--on the entrance door. I saw no blood so that rules out one scenario.

Back on point. I was having a great time discussing infra red cameras and their use for determining things in the building. All the while I was thinking of sneakier more blatantly voyeuristic possibilities, but I kept that to myself. Just thinking such things may be a grievous offense punishable in some unpleasant way. Mostly I was not too hungry, however I was thinking I need breakfast food when I get home, but I had none on hand.

I get home in the nick of time to eat a few tortillas with cheese, then bounce up the dirt road to practice with the band. They always have the best snacks. I felt like a cretin but I ate most of the snacks by myself. Real hunger was setting in and I'm trying to encourage my appetite. People I know well have been calling me names and making fun of my thinisity.

After playing I headed out to get a few breakfast food items. I can eat breakfast more readily than anything else, no matter the time of day. My hunger center was calling for some hash browns, eggs and other things like that. The potato chips were unrelated. They were on sale and sometimes I get to jonesing for them.

By the time I made it home, I had no appetite or desire for food whatsoever. Logical thought told me I probably needed to put food in the body even if I had to force feed myself. No hunger at all. I figured a few relatively empty calories might be better than nothing. I can almost always eat a few chips. So I did.

Then I was hungry again. As I was writing this I had stuff cooking in the frying pan (where else?), with the big steel bowl inverted over it to form a high tech oven of some kind. It fits that frying pan just right. Now I am eating breakfast.

That shows how sneaky food can be. All these odd things that we get excited about, almost in the Biblical sense, and we just shove it in like it is better than dope. All it does is fuel the organism. Nothing more than what coal would be to a steam engine. You don't see the old locomotives oohing and ahhing and having orgasmic reactions at the thought of coal. People and food, now we do see some action there.

Mammals in particular, but animals in general, are suckers for food. You can train them using little morsels of this or that. Do not try it with crocodiles, alligators or bears, because they are all evil and associate you with the food so if they see you without it, all they know is to eat, then you become dinner.

For such docile innocent looking stuff food has an extraordinary amount of control over living things. I believe it thinks and conspires. We are its slaves.

Awareness of this may be increasing in the collective unconscious or somewhere. That is why chefs are more and more gaining the status of rock stars. We revere those who dare to go behind enemy lines and boldly manipulate with such abandon and style. Very gutsy people, and possibly our only hope.

About Me

My photo
Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


Blog Archive