Sunday Morning Coming Down

That's the title of an old Kris Kristofferson/Johnny Cash song about being alone and stoned on a Sunday morning. I'm neither alone nor stoned but the title kinda fit, perhaps it's more of a Sunday Morning Getting Me Down. Here's the crux of it, or rub if your feeling Shakespearean, I don't want to go to the church we've been going to for several years now anymore but I'm alone in my feelings. I'd like to go to the Episcopal church but my family doesn't want to go there. We've talked of going Methodist (we go to a very conservative southern baptist church now) but Araine is afraid we'll all start going there and then I'll be dissatisfied and want to move on again. Not an ungrounded fear. So a few weeks back I went to one church while Rainey and the boys went to the other, that was not a pleasant feeling. Neither one of us liked it, although I did enjoy the service at the Episcopal church. So each week I'm facing the same dilemma do I go where I want alone (my daughter may would go with me) or do I go where I don't like to be with my family. This week we all just stayed home, which is fine by me for the most part but I grew up going to church and it feels strange not to be going somewhere on at least a semi-regular schedule.

Whatever...

I wrote a pretty lengthy blog sharing my two cents on the whole fast food against gays fight going on and then deleted it with aplomb. Because I realized what really got on my nerves the last week or so wasn't the issues being discussed but that everyone seemed to be posting about it, over and over again. It was enough to make me regret having a facebook page. So I've discussed my views with my best friends and those of you who really know me can prob. guess them anyway.  This whole thing reminded me of one of the funny quotes I'd seen recently that read- I use to want to be able to read peoples minds, then I got a facebook page and I got over it.

Blowing things up (metaphorically of course).

I recently finished reading Still Life With Woodpecker by Tom Robbins an absurdest classic (or to-be-classic as the case may be). The description on the book jacket calls it- "A sort of a love story that takes place inside a pack of Camel cigarettes. It reveals the purpose of the moon, explains the difference between criminals and outlaws, examines the conflict between social activism and romantic individualism, and paints a portrait of contemporary society that includes powerful Arabs, exiled royalty, and pregnant cheerleaders. It also deals with the problem of redheads", and that about sums it up. It's like poetry, I mean it doesn't rhyme or anything but it has a fascinating flow to it, perhaps it's on a lunar cycle. The Woodpecker is the chosen name of a redheaded outlaw bomber who makes blowing things up seem not only reasonable but downright necessary. He and a deposed redheaded princess fall madly into something like love and are determined to find a way to make it stay. The part about the difference between activism and individualism I found particularly interesting, all great causes (and I would add religions and philosophies as well) are started by individuals, people with ideas and gumption but as they become causes and institutions they become choked with average, unimaginative people who are jumping on to someone else's band wagon. Well that's not exactly the way the Woodpecker put it but that's what I walked away with. Now the blowing shit up (metaphorically speaking) is the main thing I brought from my trip through Mr. Robbins mind, they're lots of things in my life I let build up or that I build up into 'important' things that need to be blown away like so much brick and mortar. Before you rush out and buy this fantastically bizarre book let me caution that there is a good deal of adult language, sexual situations, drug use and typewriter abuse. Otherwise happy reading.

Tom Jones or as I called it The Almost Never Ending Story

I could hear the Hallelujah chorus being sung in my subconscious as I finally, after months of reading, finished Henry Fielding's The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. Now to be fair part of the reason it took so long to finish was because I twice had to stop reading in order to memorize lines for plays. So I took the opportunity of having a two week break from theater to finish this very long and at times infuriatingly side tracking novel. The core story is pretty good and is somewhat of a morality tale (SparkNotes says it's about virtue in action rather than as thought) with twists and turns and a not perfect but noble minded protagonist. The end of the story is perhaps a bit too much tied up in a nice little bow but I suppose a somewhat comedic moral story should be. The very aggravating part of this book is the constant interruption of the main story. The novel is broken down into 18 books with each book consisting of about 8 to 10 chapters or so and the first chapter of each book is the author waxing philosophical about writing and critics and whatever else, it's like he used this space in each book as a sort of 18th century blog. The novel also contains quite a few 'rabbit trails' leading off in all different directions many of which do not play into or at least very little into the main story. The writing is good, it flows well, so while it was aggravating slogging through much of the book, it wasn't a chore. Several times I thought about quitting this book, my wife encouraged me to on several occasions as I complained so much about it, but I wanted to see what happened to Tom, Sophia and the gang. So, would I recommend this book? Not really, not unless you just feel the need to read books people say are classics. Which I guess I kinda do, this was the first novel in a collection called The Complete Harvard Classics Shelf of Fiction; 200 Greatest Novels, Short Stories and Poems Ever Written, edited by Charles Eliot and Christopher Hong that I bought for my kindle. I'm afraid Tom Jones has made me somewhat tepid about the merits of the rest of this collection.

A Great Conversation

Until tonight I really had only met one person I considered to be a master at the art of carrying on a conversation (you can find her blog here )she could talk to anyone and make them feel engaged and smarter for having had the conversation. Tonight I met another conversationalist, albeit with a completely different style. I had the honor of talking to a father of a friend of mine tonight (I'm not naming names simply because I don't know how they would feel about me doing so), this was the first time we'd ever met and after 15 or 20 minutes I knew more about this man than about people I've known 15 or 20 years. Why? Because he didn't bullshit or beat around the bush, he said what he thought and you didn't wonder if that was how he really felt or not. You knew everything he said was said with a heart felt conviction of it's veracity. We talked about the play and ended up discussing our families and opening up about things we're going through/had been through and he gave me some really good advice, advice I hope I can take to heart. Someone with that strong a sense of self amazes me, I've always been more of a people pleaser, wishy-washy, afraid to say what's really on my mind. The older I get though the more I feel as though I'm shaking some of that off and becoming more secure in myself. My friend came over with a look on her face that said, "I'm sorry my dad's bothering you, let me rescue you." But there was no need for a rescue, I truly enjoyed the conversation. As a caveat for another friend, who happens to be the son-in-law of the gentleman, I imagine it's no picnic being on the bad side of such an intense personality.

A litte randomness from the rambling one. (What? I thought it sounded alright.)

Hang on, let me go move the cookies to the cooling rack right quick. Okay, I'm back. Did you miss me? No, of course not your not reading this in real time. Well in your real time but not as I'm... you get the idea. First off I realize I've been a bit remiss in sharing the wonderful and funny anecdotes and quotes of my band of bandar-logs (my children, for the uninitiated). So here's one to get us back on track. The other day Rainey and I were watching Top Shot, it's a reality competition for marksmen, and Sam comes walking into the living room quickly followed by an unpleasant odoriferousness and I ask him, "Did you poop?" Now he isn't looking at me but at the t.v. and he says, "I pu blue team." So, not quite understanding and a little perplexed I ask, "You pooped the blue team?" Well Rainey and I got quite a laugh out of it before realizing he was pulling for the blue team on Top Shot.
That still makes me smile. Well on to other things we're right smack in the middle of rehearsals for Rabbit Hole, which I believe is going to be one hell of a performance. Excuse me, one heck of a performance. Okay that's a little nod to our very talented director making the difficult call to cut some of the adult language from the play. It's easy to cut cursing that's just there for cursing sake but harder when it helps to identify a character. But some of the most offensive language was very early into the very first scene and he didn't want people to walk out before getting to know the characters. I know it was a hard call for him but considering who our core audience is I think it's probably the right call.
And finally (I think) I've been both a plumber and a mechanic in the past week and I am neither a plumber nor a mechanic. But when your broke you got to figure out how to do things for yourself. It's great to have people to ask and to have yahoo or goggle to look things up on but it can also be a bit confusing as you can get lots of different answers.
Alright I suppose that's it for now and seeing as how I'm a fan of non-sequiturs I'll leave you with a favorite quote from a once favorite movie of mine. "Lay of the boots Harley."

Aggravation!

I have always had a deep seated hate for the board game Aggravation because it's just so dang... well, aggravating. Yesterday evening I felt as though I had been playing the game all week. By nine last night I was pretty worn out and tired, it had been a long day filled with getting up before the sun and working my butt off and fighting kids and cat hair, lot's of f-ing cat hair and I'm afraid I was wearing my feelings a bit on my sleeve. It wasn't all bad yesterday, but I think it was a week worth of 'stuff' built up on a tired, caffeine hyped old man. I started out listing some of the 'woes', and I use the term very lightly, hence the quotations, that plagued us this week but it felt too much like whining, so I deleted them. Let's just say it's been a somewhat trying week both at work and home.
I usually try to keep this blog reader friendly and not go into religious/political issues too much, just glossing over them on occasion but one of the things that bugged me this week were two billboards a group has put up in Shebly, one leaving town and one coming in to town. The billboards read 'Vote for Marriage on May 8th' and it really just pissed me off when I saw them. I'm afraid I'm going to have to fly my liberal flag for a minute and say that this marriage amendment change seems to me to be just slight of a hate crime. You've got two well intentioned sides arguing over who can and can't claim the idea of marriage and one side says, 'You know what? We're going to change the state amendment so some judge can't just change the law.' I understand that homosexuality is something strange for most of us, perhaps hard to understand but I don't understand why so many people hate homosexuals. The idea that gay marriage undermines hetro-marriage seems incomprehensible to me. It's like when the military said gays can't serve openly because they could be black mailed for being gay. Do what? You can paint this issue with all the colors of the rainbow (pun intended) but I think it boils down to a deep seated bigotry toward homosexuals. I wish someone would put a billboard right next to these that says, 'Don't vote for hate on May 8th'. All right I'm climbing off the soap box and putting my liberal flag back on the shelf.
I hate to end a blog without a silver lining so let me say that despite the aggravation of the last week I've also had some really good times too. I've got my lines for Rabbit Hole learned (for the most part), I got to see a play at the newly renovated and gorgeous Joy theater in KM, I watched the new Footloose (it was s'alright) with my wife and speaking of said wife I got to spend a lot more time with her this week than I would have had I had my car and I feel like we got a little closer, which is always a wonderful silver lining.