Movie Review: Across the Universe

The library dvd wouldn't play correctly on the big screen setup but it played fine on my computer. Probably operator error. Who knows.

This is a very well done flick. The soundtrack is all Beatles and done by killer singers and musicians. Someone is very creative and clever I think. The people who designed this film. And it's a friggin musical. The way the music was done and the general look of the movie kept me captivated for the duration. I give it several stars.

Out In The Fog

On my deck, a much more inspired title came to mind. By the time I came in, got the computer switched on, played a few meditative licks on the didgeridoo, and began to write, the title disappeared from the shelf in my brain of items I can recall.

That brings to mind a song, which I will paraphrase, written long ago during one of my semi-sad periods, of which there have been many. I've learned to curb the sadness better now. It is still there, but it has been weakened through much effort and good fortune.

Before I bore anyone with the paraphrased/revised version of that song, I will tell the tale of birthdays; 2008 and 2009. Last year I do not recall much of it, except that I was to the point of no return in the planning of my escape from the rut I was in. The Ballistic Tour was far into the planning stages. I'd sold the condo and had only to get the clutter out of my way and hit the road. Fortunately, it took until May 10, 2008 until I was able to clear the last of my goods out of my apartment and embark on the journey into the unknown. As it turned out my favorite points along the tour were just then cleared of snow, opened to auto travel. That is an example of the sort of luck I have which offsets my ignorance.

It was a birthday of hope and anticipation, even if it felt a little lonely and I was feeling blanketed in that heavy-as wet-cement fog which characterized much of my life. What I remember most is the video a friend in California made which included various people from that social circle, and even a few others. They had been coached to say something about me as if they knew me. It was the coolest film ever made. Obviously, I knew I had to include San Diego on the Tour after viewing that. She who started out enthusiastically then became strangely mercurial and unavailable was even in it.

This year, I tried to pretend I did not know my birthday was at hand, and even connived not to be in town on the 4th. That's my day, February 4.

Next thing I know, I had phone calls with singing voices and orders to be in town on the 6th for my birthday party. What can you do? I haven't had a pleasant birthday celebration in so long I've forgotten. I'm sure I must have had OK birthdays but I generally block them out. It has to do with childhood horror parties in my stupid neighborhood at an early age. I'm not sure if it was because I had to beat some kid up who left no alternative or what, but I know as young as age 8, I adamantly requested NO PARTY every birthday.

There was one surprise party when I was married that should have been nice. I remember my wife or one of the in-laws gave me a harmonica, and I was pleased about that. The fact that it was the day the cotton mill got the air quality tests back from the lab which showed my machines worked, accomplishing what everyone in the industry said couldn't be done, proving the idea which had appeared on paper a year and a half before actually worked, made it a red letter day. I wasn't crazy, I was right. It was the high point of my achievements before or since, I think.

I'd been at that mill, fiddling with the machines, enjoying the smiles and congratulatory pats on the back from the mill's president and V.P.. I was on top of the world. I couldn't wait to get home and tell the wife. First I had to do a little work to the prototype machines, then I hit the road.

When I arrived my in-laws were all there. I was fond of that family, but the wind swiftly left my sails when all I heard was how I was late, and how they'd been waiting. No one cared about the good news. At that time, the documented results were believed to be as good as millions in the bank. (That should have been the case but I lacked the savvy to know how to proceed, another story, another time). So, a very nice party, a surprise party and I was the bad guy because I had not anticipated my part in the play. From then on I avoided any celebration of my birthday.

This year, I was left no alternative but to show up, and it was like a chapter from some other person's life; a person with nice friends who like to make things pleasant. Normally, this would have been way out of the comfort zone, but it was comfortable, and even fun. I should add that I no longer know what or where my comfort zone is. I was pretty comfortable with the giant, heart shaped chocolate cake--very good stuff--and the balloons and the sign expressing the fondest of sentiments and affection.

All through the evening I thought how lucky I am that people would take the trouble to make me feel good about being born. Maybe it is because I like all those involved and they like one another as well. I don't know. Maybe I am not as tense as in the past. It looks like I am locked into this tennis thing now. Birthdays offerings involved a very nice scheme to ensure that, as well as my favorite Bollywood soundtrack and my favorite roast of cafe in the universe.

On the actual day, I was feasting on lasagna at M's, the scuba chick. And playing pool on her very nice table. Some of the shots I was able to pull off back in the Pfeiffer college game room manager days seemed to come back. I thought I'd managed to go through my birthday unnoticed but she was already aware of the upcoming party. They all acted like this was just the normal way of things. I'm spoiled is how I see it. People who know me probably agree. For a lone moper I do get a lot of special treatment. I think I always have.

Only now, I don't feel guilty for it or feel tangled up in the strings.

It's strange that I can't remember any specific birthdays for the last 20 years or so. Only these last two. As far as the usual, "Oh no, a year older and nothing more to show for it", I don't feel anything one way or the other. I'm here and it is against all odds that I am. Things have changed since coworkers were wanting me to let them pay for a life insurance policy and make them beneficiaries. They never thought I'd live past 35. I think I was 34 or 35 at that time. I'm glad I don't have the need to get drunk on days like that any more. Birthdays are still no big deal in and of themselves to me, but being blessed with friends who like to let you know they are glad you are here is a very big deal.

One possible change in me is that I am a little bit more receptive to such affection than I was in the past. I know I have made it extremely difficult for those who wanted to show kindness or affection at times. I guess I don't feel like there is a hidden harmful aspect to things, and before, I did.

It's doubtful any other group would have found me less defensive. Whatever the reason, that is how it is. That is a big change. I've been unable to know when affection is a cover for an unpleasant ulterior agenda in the past, so I often shielded when maybe it was the wrong thing to do. This is a new world; to feel secure and natural at such a simple thing as a small gathering, eating incredible home made calzone, pasta whatnot, and birthday cake. Since it comes at such an advanced age, relatively speaking, I guess something must have screwed with me for decades, stunting my growth and limiting my ability to live life.

This is getting lengthy and involved. I have one major goal for this year. Even though I know you can't force or put a timeframe on some things, some unknown soul is in for an interesting surprise if it works out like I hope.

ps:
the song

In the misty night
a baby dreams
a mother weeps
a flower screams

and the fog
from the hills
rolls and rolls
stealing the sight
from the valley
below


It actually has a meaning of sorts. Everything I write is either about innocence, redemption, or what EVAH

People Around Here Are OK

In order to protect those who know me, I mention them less and less. I'm protective and oddly private, even though here I seem kind of open. I try to avoid specifically providing info about others. So, I do it less and less. Even so, I have to say, people still tend to treat me pretty well, unless I want to mate with them. Nothing new there. You're the greatest thing since sliced bread until you have designs. Probably because people don't want to change you until they can sleep with you any time they want. Women, anyway. Or almost any time they want. It's complicated and technical; I wouldn't understand...

Movie Review and Else

Gran Torino, I guess that is what it was called. I wasn't a big fan of those cars when they were still on the road. I guess they didn't stay around too long. The one Clint had in the movie was spiffy though. This was a movie about a guy somewhere around the age of Clint Eastwood. He looks just like Clint, too.

I enjoyed the fact that the guy is the anti-PC but they manage to weave in some depth of character and interesting cultural observation. He figures out that he has more in common with hard core third world immigrants because they still have some tradition and old school values; the ones who aren't punksters in gangs. My hatred of gangs and the mentality behind humans who run in packs like dogs is still intact. Unfortunately it isn't a movie which depicts complete bloody annihilation of every punk and wannabe in town, but I liked it anyway. Eastwood is good as always. So was that chick. Since I think telling the story would make it less enjoyable to view, I won't say more.

So many things have crossed my mind and I took the thoughts to great lengths, apparently, which caused me to think I'd already written them down. Guess not. Now I wonder what it was I thought I'd written. Political scene speaks for itself, or should. Why bother pointing out that we are witnessing tax money being used to pay political debts? Pay for play is alive and well.

I have a feeling the gov. of Illinois was far more innocent in that regard than much of Washington at the moment. Some systems cannot coexist. Nationalizing capital and free enterprise capitalism, is one example. Another is the unionizing of public employees, giving them better perks than what can be found in private enterprise, and continually succumbing to various demands. It will never work for long without socializing most of the marketplace. Even then it won't work for long.

Then you end up with French style strikes over every little quibble. The advent of unions was allegedly not supposed to hold the public hostage of government workers. That has been one item that appears to have contributed to the demise of California, once a state with surplus, and a culture which the rest of the country envied. Some of that is still there, not in the rule making governing sense.

In the long run, the only hope for survival of the species is to master space travel, in whatever form that may take. I suspect it would be something as yet not on drawing board. You have to figure, dinosaurs were greener than Al Gore, and they bit the dust. One well placed rock and human life on this planet would not be worth much. Ultimate survival depends on spreading out to points unknown. The current trend toward herding us all into metropolitan areas with all we depend on centralized, power, water, food, etc., is more devo than positive evolution.

You can worship the damned planet all you want and it won't change the long term situation. Of course, it doesn't pay to trash up the place but letting lawyers dictate research and development according to what gets them reelected is a sure ticket to Hell anyway. That's pretty much what is happening, and the human hating misguided people who think reducing standard of living is always good and shows love, well...it's not worth fighting that battle. You get accused of being in full accord with some other insane school of thought. Truth is, the two pretend opponents are the same. Some companies(many who've corruptly cornered an industry) have no problem looking like the whining evil empire while using government to smash opponents. It's an old trick to bitch in the press while instigating the source of the complaint behind the scenes.

Yikes, I almost puked. The TV is running for background noise and extra light. That new propaganda show, Homeland Security is on. I had to run and change it to some advertisement for pizza. No wonder they included some perks for the right Hollywood enterprises in this bogus taxpayer ripoff. I'm not sure how it works, but they always come out with shows that tend to direct the public view favorably toward things to come, or to make swallowing the pill of serfdom taste sweeter.

It's cool living so close to some very nice spots, both mountainous and coastal. To get away from all people, I can hit Mt Leguna, breathe the rarified air at 6000 feet, then in thirty minutes be back home at 3000 feet. I don't have the nosebleed altitude issue any more. Maybe it was the lack of humidity doing that for awhile. I've never been a nose bleeder, and these episodes were minimal. Just unusual.

I wonder if that lady at the grocery store was hitting on me. That would be cool. She's probably just a nice person and secure enough to be friendly. Good for her.

It's sad when you reach the point of having to pretend a stranger hit on you. I suppose if it is all in your mind and you don't react oddly at the time, no harm done.

AZ by 4 in Super Bowl---oops. I mean Pitt

Steelers are favored, with good enough reason, but the Cardinals are the Western representative, so they get extra credit. I want to be for someone. Since San Diego didn't make it, and Miami is my next favorite, I go with the west. That's my reasoning for this call.

DC Has Truly Gone Insane

If Congress is really representative of the American people, we are in huge trouble. Of course, if they aren't we are also in trouble because that means we are being railroaded by an oligarchy. I tend to believe the latter is the case, although the majority of people may be OK with it. I've thought it was a sham government for most of my life; a view which has placed me as odd man out in certain school and college classes, and among those who feel comfortable, even smart, painting my opposition as oppositional disorder.

The thing that bothers me most lately is the blatant lack of debate on legislation and the arrogance that has gone with it. The term "gridlock" has again arisen as if those who don't go along with whatever is put in front of them are doing the wrong thing. I like gridlock. It causes delays in the destruction of rights and of the country as we know or imagine it.

Glimpses at what is being done with tax money, in the name of promoting prosperity among the citizens who have already been robbed, is beyond anything I thought possible. The obvious pandering to special groups and interests at the expense of those who work and mind their own business is nothing short of criminal.

I may have been born too late. Righteous revolutions and a general passion to be free, may be things of the past, never to be experienced in this century. This system of adding irrelevant payoffs to bills and such, and lack of restraint of authority should have been overthrown long ago.

One encouraging thing about the masses is that it takes very little for them to jump on a bandwagon going the opposite direction from the one they are on. Peer pressure and perceived short term self interest do the trick. They'll do what they are told makes them appear intelligent and accepted by their peers. Even smart people do that. Lack of real understanding and values has little to do with intelligence.

Con men don't look for the dumb marks, just the vulnerable. A touch of greed and a fragile but prominent ego, and enough intelligence to follow convoluted logic make for easy pickings.

Cursed Deductibles and Mind Clutter

It makes long term financial sense, but when it comes time to pay the piper, one is often disturbed at having any deductible at all, insurancely speaking. I'll deal with it later and hope my windshield doesn't fall apart in the interim.

A year ago, my only concern was whether I could get myself together enough to pack up and hit the road. Given that my life was pretty much a worthless vacuum, it seemed the best option, and a possible path toward finding meaning and satisfaction. I had no idea where I'd be or what I'd be doing by now. One thing that I discovered is that I could probably be satisfied to travel indefinitely, even if it meant sleeping in tents.

I also discovered that, if tents are involved, I need an air mattress to help make the discomfort bearable. What a drag that is. I guess, if I had to, I could get over it. Enjoying sleep on rocks, concrete or dirt is a skill that puts one ahead of the game, if you ask me.

The big problem of the perpetually disjointed life, partly the fault of poor judgement, too much, or not enough, drugs and alcohol, and partly due to principles held at the cost of outward gain, as well as other blatant stupidity, is that there is nothing to show for it. At some point, you expect to have a bit of continuous passion for something, or some one.

On the other hand, we'd all be better off if some people, who lived consistent, relatively balanced lives, and multiplied like crazy, would have never made it to that point. So, my "what might have been" may have been a real nightmare by comparison to the present reality. It actually feels like a never ending nightmare, but not the dark scary kind. More colorful and surreal, even pleasant. It just doesn't go anywhere, and that is the nightmare portion of it.

The lesson is that it is tougher to start over now than it would have been long ago. Making something special happen has still got to be the goal. Demanding as little as possible is probably a good idea. Life gives and takes, so no use expecting anything one way or the other. It doesn't owe me.

Certain qualities are probably enhanced by time, experience and pain. Empathy in some respects may have been enhanced. I'm also more suspicious of food prepared by disgruntled groups who usually dislike my disgruntled group.

I write these things because they interest me. They are true enough, but often just follow a thought more than a fact. It doesn't matter.

The cracked windshield is just a metaphor. An expensive one due to the deductible, but a metaphor just the same.

(not so)Brief Theory

Since the country's treasury is being turned over to various elite interests and enterprises which have nothing to do with middle, or even poor, non ward of the state Americans, actual economic turn around is a highly suspect promise. Sacrifice is the only promise they've made which I am sure will be forthcoming, if not already in practice. Human sacrifice, to be sure, even if not as directly evident as the way the Aztecs practiced it. Same thing. And it could be argued, to the same gods. Appease the weather, feed the earth.

Just an aside, while eco friendliness is on my mind; products which claim to be eco friendly almost never seem to work. The solvents don't solve and the cleaners don't clean. I wish it were otherwise. Can't pet a tiger shark, or a tiger, in most cases. I don't know if that applies to anything.

OK. Since the money is being redistributed to favored people and companies for dubious projects, or non at all, and that will only impoverish the average producer even more, I think there will be some big excuse for a big war that makes Iraq look like a skirmish. Incentive to save, as if anyone has the excess to do so, and to launch private enterprise, is increasingly discouraged by current policies and regulations.

The only way everyone can work for the government is if the government owns everything and controls everything. Some of us will resist that. Not everyone would mind, even if it meant the standard of living and scope of choice were severely limited. The real issue of today is the rift between the individual and the collective.

Those in charge promote the idea that the individual exists for the benefit of the collective and that the collective has a right to dictate what compensation and contribution is appropriate for each. Those who relish the old fashioned concept of freedom disagree.

The other side would insist that the role of those in government is to protect the individual from the tyranny of them, and of the majority. It's a concept which gets relatively little attention, and almost none in a positive light.

It's the age old thing of serving the feudal lord or serving one's self. The pendulum has swung far into the realm of serfs serving the elite lords of the manor. Until people again figure out who's boss, they will willingly embrace this authority. What is amazing is how few people recognized the collectivist nature of GW Bush's policies and presidency. We're on the same road, even if they say the word "change" ten million times. The only change is that the robbery and coup are in broad daylight now. No more pretense.

Either much authority will be given over to various international tribunals, or a big war will be engineered, or both. That's my bet.

Whatever happens, that red salt is the best ever.

Premonition or Dimensional Anomaly?

All day I felt a sense of unease. I wondered if it wasn't actually disease, the kind that manifests itself in the addled mind. Maybe a case of bonkerism.

The portion of the Great Teak Project which I intended to complete today went well enough. It is hard to be sure in this particular place because no one is really sure what the man behind the curtain wants. Apparently those in relatively direct contact are never advised when a job is particularly pleasing and well done. They only hear about what is wrong or displeasing to Him.

I'm one who likes to know what is right, and I generally like encouragement. This is a test, and I can only guess that few people would go to the same extremes I do, trying to make a thing right. The problem is whether I've gone down the right path; is this the correct choice of solution? To me it may make sense but to the owner of the mess it might not be. It's like being told a room needs painting, and since it is covered with graffiti and bizarre wall paper, you probably agree, but what color and texture, if any, should be applied? Only way to find out is to do it and see if anyone complains.

Other than that ambience of "WTF, and will I be banned from the premises", conditions are extraordinarily pleasant. The people, when any cross my path, are nice and friendly. I'm not quite familiar enough with it to overcome that state of cringe that leads one to feel the grounds are paved with eggshells. I think that can be overcome in time, provided time is offered.

I'm freaking about a few spots of teak oil on concrete. They don't easily come up, and circumstances did not allow much time to deal with it. Had I never said anything or noticed, chances are neither would anyone else. Of course, I opened my mouth to other hired help because A) I'm a nincompoop, B) I thought there was an off chance someone would have a good remedy, and C) I wanted it known that I take responsibility for my work, or some such idiotic thing. Tomorrow I guess I'll hear.

So, as I was on the way home--a long interesting drive, I stopped for tomatoes and ice cream from the local high priced grocery store. All grocery stores are high priced. Tomatoes were for the Mexican surprise dinner, and ice cream was for its own sake. I've skimped on things so I opted to go for a treat. Part of my new weight loss plan. Eat now while you can.

As I was puttering out of Alpine at maybe 35 MPH, an orb consisting of nothing but water hit my windshield. All I saw of it was the water as it hit. Thump! Then I realized it had cracked my window big time. The only thing I could figure is that it was a water balloon. I saw no pieces of container go flying when it hit and I never saw it coming. It was dark and it hit the right side of the window so I guess it came from the side.

When I turned around to return to the scene of the water bombing, there was a teen aged kid walking up a side street, just off the main road where the incident occurred. Under interrogation he offered the following statement, "uh,. wha, wa, wa I dunno". Having not a shred of evidence, I felt pursuing the matter would only get me arrested, and probably sued by his mom. I just assume dad is off to parts unknown.

Then again, maybe he is just a goofy kid, innocent, and a ball of water suddenly manifested from another dimension, colliding with my windshield, resulting in irreparable cracks. Maybe it will be covered by insurance. Still, I am not too thrilled, except that I'd had that weird feeling all day, and this inconvenience was more minor than the doom that felt impending.

Another guess about that uncomfortable thing was that maybe the revolution is or should be closer than it seems. If the US gets completely sold out, as is happening on a number of fronts, and Mexico has a melt down, maybe I'll find myself in a war zone.

I like to think the water orb just appeared out of another reality, at an inconvenient time. It may have been a ufo.

Musical Chairs

Originally I was going to raise hell about things that still seem to haunt and anger me, But I decided that it is useless. Discretion and comprehension of boundaries are not endemic to all cultures, or subcultures in the US.

This teak furniture project has become a wonderland of chemical aromas. If I were into huffing, I'd be in big trouble after a day like today. I've always enjoyed working with things that smell like lacquer thinner. It could be there is a reason--something to do with my addictive nature. Some varnish stripper has a similar aromatic quality.

There is a 2 step process once you get the varnish off. First is a cleaner then there is a brightener. The latter smells like battery acid, and I found I enjoy that smell. Spooky. Those two steps are done with the teak soaking wet. I'm treating this stuff like a boat deck. I figure it is outdoor furniture so if it is dealt with like something that goes to sea, it ought to handle hanging out at the pool and on the patio. Whatever the people who built it coated it with certainly did not last. Reportedly that finish started deteriorating after a month. The trouble is that some was still intact, and some not. Lots of stripper, and eventually lots of sandpaper. Muscles I may have never used in my life are beginning to make their presence known, and not in the form of bulk or attractive ripples. That would be in the pain, Bob.