bloggidysnarf

No one gives anyone a chance anymore, we all just look at the outside and don't think about the inside
I'm as guilty as the next, hide behind a veiled pretext

try to make a note of this feeling
trust me her eyes said
her smile said it hurts sometimes
her shoulders strong and proud
and then there's love
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i wished i knew what to say or to do
so i smiled and looked at a bird
maybe it's different now maybe it's the same
last year it was somebody else
if i do or if I don't
it it doesn't matter
I probably will I probably won't
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i could give but i never believe
i got my own but i need something that's different
and what do we do with our mistakes
do we just throw them away?
or are they dreams of what i am or what i was?
well don't give up your dreams

bring an umbrella if it might rain
you must finsih now, just try to remember
you know who's in charge? you are

What is this, Crazy-talk ?

First things first, Doctor do no harm.
Take your time, walking in the sun
When it hurts, she'll sound the alarm
Soldier with a never fired gun

and what did you think when they pelted you with eggs and ink?

high flying leaves blowing in the breeze
nettles that sting and bumble bees

never look back

the flip side of happiness is the standard: a frolic on my own
what would you say if that was you?
look to your left now look to the right and look straight ahead
there's no one around it's all in your head
never look back
two bananas turn black
never look back

stand up tall you know you are proud
just don't you forget how you felt when you were down

perhaps the closest experience to hell is that of being abandoned by someone you thought loved you
everyone has to wrestle with why
just take your time
pressing magnolia petals in the telephone book
never look back
two bananas turn black
never look back


after you've taken a drink from the cup
you'll see everyone and everything is pointing up

Here's something kinda cool about economics and stuff.

Word for the Day from Dictionary dot com . . . it's Dot Com!
tmesis \TMEE-sis\, noun:
In grammar and rhetoric, the separation of the parts of a compound word, now generally done for humorous effect; for example, "what place soever" instead of "whatsoever place," or "abso-bloody-lutely."

Examples of tmesis:

If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
--Shakespeare, Richard II

His income-tax return, he remarked, was the "most rigged-up marole" he'd ever seen.
--Frederic Packard

In two words, im possible.
--Samuel Goldwyn

Tmesis is from Greek tmesis, "a cutting," from temnein, "to cut."

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I'm figuring something out, something that in order to find the answer, you must first ask the question. I'm figuring out how to ask that question.
Question asking is an important element, and I'm practicing that more and more. That question asking practice is important because once I find my answer, I think there's gonna be a lot more questions. Part of what is involved: think about what you are thinking, how you are thinking it, and why you are thinking it.

Today's theme: Something in the Air

Knife throwers: Good luck finding a replacement. It's a job I'd never want . . .

A seminal thought: It's occurred to me that the spunky smell on some streets in Oakland and South Side is not from some public pervert who just moments ago had a moment . . . but it's the dogwood trees. This past week they've been in bloom and releasing their pheromones. Some folks aside from me have noticed it. Tony's college chick neighbor was saying: "Yeah, it smells like cleaner or .... " All of the trees that his block is lined with are dogwoods it seems. Maybe you had to be there, but it was funny. I guess all life forms share a large amount of the same DNA so maybe it's not surprising that our reproductive scents may be similar. I was thinking, this dude, whoever he is, sure is wound up. I'm glad it's just mother nature.

Saddam Hussein still at large, missing, whereabouts unknown. We have no DNA sources to look for his trace remains in the rubble or ruins. But his statue is down, symbolically he's overthrown, and he's pretty well ousted in every other sense of the word. We may see hima gain, though. who knows?

Speaking of rubble and ruins, I saw the tear-down production of an old warehouse-type building last night. It served as the backdrop for the players at the Valhalla open mic in the Strip District. Ya know how some performers will have a movie playing behind them? Well, there was no movie, but the cranes and big diggers and falling bricks and building chunks filled the tall windows behind the players in the bar area of Valhalla. Pretty cool looking. My guess is the building is gonna be replaced by the new expansions of the Heinz History Center.

I played a coupla standby originals and a new one I just learned this weekend: When You're Loved Like You Are by a band called Of Montreal. They're not from Montreal, their from Athens, GA or something.

Oh soap box, how do you stand to bear it all?
Pardon me while I step on you. And soapbox?
I'll try to keep you in the scholarly realm of open air,
And not push you behind the pulpit over there.

This story about some angry and misguided woman protesting Fred Rogers' life and work was brought to my attention from Joe's blog, and I feel compelled to comment as well.

The miasma that these folks purport to be the truth has some obvious flaws. How unfortunate that some people cannot see these flaws, their flawed logic.

1. Fred Rogers' television show was/is for children. Themes relating to sexuality are not for children. We should protect the innocence of children. Grave topics like divorce and death merit a child's attention, because they unfortunately are part of life that a child may experience. But the distinctions between hetero- and homo-sexual relations are not appropriate for a figure like Fred Rogers to address. I imagine this is why he never did a show about it.

2. Hate is not the same as love. They are different things. Both demand a lot of attention, but different kinds of attention. God loves all of his creatures, all of us sinners, including those who choose to hate. That's some powerful love. It is sin He chooses to hate. Gay or not, God still loves you. Simply put: Love the sinner, hate the sin... These folks are missing that point. One needn't look further than the web addy: ww.godhatesfags.com These folks have hate in their name. How unfortunate.

In a make-believe (had to use the term) dialog between Matt Shepherd and Fred Rogers in Hell (oh, they condemn Mr. Rogers to Hell), these folks, suggest that if Shepherd had read his Bible, he'd recognize "the lies that Mr. Rogers sold." Hmmmm . . . if these same people read thier Bible as well, wouldn't they know the familiar passage:
Do not pass judgement, that you may not be judged; for the way you judge you will be judged and with what yardstick you measure you will be measured. But why notice the splinter in your brother’s eye without taking notice of the beam in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, Let me extract that splinter from your eye, when there is a beam in your own eye? You hypocrite! First get rid of that beam in your eye; then you will see clearly to extract the splinter from your brother’s eye. (uh-oh, sounds like a carpenter...). (Matthew 7:1-5)

I'm not saying, "Hey everybody, go be gay!" I'm saying don't hate people. It's easy to point out flaws in other people, but tough to treat a person with love and respect despite their flaws . . . it's a two-way street man, and that's what it's really about.
As a good academic, I cite my sources. As a bad poet, please pardon me if I pushed my soap box a little far.

I had a kooky dream last night: Paul McCartney was doing a tour or something that brought him to Pittsburgh, and he kinda got all confused or something, because he came over to my house and brought like seven of these bizarre hollow frame looking guitars (I've never seen anything like them, kinda like funky suspension bridges, but guitars . . . ) then my mom shows up and offers to make him a pancake breakfast if he decides to stay the night. So he and I start talking about writing songs and stuff, and he shows me some stuff on his funky guitars. I tried playing one but it was a little awkward at first. Poor guy though, says when he's on the road and gets really tired and lonsesome he starts thinking about Linda and misses her. Then he bucks up and says let me show you this song I like to play, I'm sure you've never heard it before. And it was some old song that he played since he was a kid, and i had never heard before, but then he got sorta confused again ... I think we were up all night talking about stuff cuz my mom came down and started making pancakes, and then I woke up. :)

What a good day today has been, I'm pretty lucky to have 70 degree weather like this... for my birthday. :D
I had lunch outside under the trees by the library. I would've thought to publish something about birthday announcements and stuff, but I didn't think about it until the end of the day of course. So what exciting things do I have planned for my birthday? Tonite I'm working on a paper, my birthday present to my future-self one could say. . . although I could be doing worse things, I suppose. I hope the fates will distribute some birthday warmth over the next few days.... that'd be cool. Thanks to all you well wishers! :)

Ahhh the weekend. where does it go?

This was a pretty good weekend overall. No complaints to register. Friday, I went courtesy of Christina Indovina to see a WYEP member show at the Rosebud. It was my first one: Alexi Murdoch and Joseph Arthur headlining. Joseph Arthur? Kinda looks like Curt Connolly from a distance, especially in physical gestures and temperament. Difference is this guys is pretty tall, like 6'4 or something, and I doubt if he'd show you a good Slalom in your living room... Both cats, Murdoch and Arthur (yeah and Connolly too :D ... ) are pretty good, and I wouldn't have ever encountered them save for this exposure, so thanks Christina. Afters, we played out on Carson St. and of course all the men-folk beamed when they saw a girl playing guitar out on the street. One highlight was the one drunk guy walking over as we finish a song who says, "Play some Hendrix." So I needlessly oblige him with the opening of 'Hey Joe' to which he says, "No, play some Hendrix." "Ah yesss," says his buddy, "that's Hey Joe." "No, play some Hendrix." And that's the South Side late Friday night, you gotta expect that. On the positive tip, there were two chicks walking by who gave us a nod and says one to the other, "See that? That's why I love the South Side."
Saturday was some crazy karaoke at Eli's. Ain't nothing like Chris Rudolph singing Wooly Bully. Believe you me it was slick. :) Sunday I played the Tango Cafe coffee shop open mic, sans mic. Pretty informal but fun. I think I'll have to go back again soon.

Short sweet and in the realm of reality today.

Tell the truth. I'm a bit unnerved, like everybody else I suppose, by the political state of things. It's coming down to some necessary upgrades for all of us. ie, we need to buck up and keep moving. It's the way life works right . . . ?

Ok, 'nuff of the stuff we all know. Friday night I played with marty on the street. it was cool, eye opening for us both. You get a different / bigger crowd with two of you out there, and Weekend nights are different from weeknights. For anybody thinking about doing it prepare yourself for some fun, some hecklers (notmany hough, most folks are really supportive). but be ready for someone who wants to show you a song on your guitar, but can't . . . remember, shit how'd that go, oh wait there's this other song, oh I forget. . . . Long and short, be bold with your guitar, hold on to your guitar. We met a cool chick from a radio station, she really liked hearing us play. she came back to hear more.

Saturday was wierd/cool. I saw city of God, a Brazilian movie about slum life in Rio de Jainero . . . I need to go see Bossa Nova. Too many violent depressing movies aobut Brazil. It can't be all bad, right? i mean how about that joao Gilberto ? then we went to the Tango Cafe down the road in Squirrel Hill. cool little coffe shop. Defintiely authentic Argentinians there, too.
OK, Jay Keenans' last show as director of Red masquers: the Dresser. Good Show! Good Job Jay. thanks for all of your work and service and encouragement for those of us who wanted to know what is to be an actor.

I dreamt of a wedding last night, they say that means something's gonna die
And what with a war waging now, I guess I needn't wonder why
Can I get a witness?

The story for today: Pulmonary Function Test or How to Do A Lot of Nothing and Get ALL Jazzed Up . . .

This morning I awoke around 8:30 to Michael Stipe piping about something we should all be doing or not doing, I dunno which one it was. I had a PFT (Pulmonary Function Test) for 9AM at the hospital. I brush my teeth pull some clothes on and go over to the hospital half awake. My script (doctor-talk for prescription) said I had to go to the 3rd floor, so I do. I find the place, ring the buzzer, sit and then wait. no reading material on the table, save a coupla brochures for Sleep Studies and some religious tracts, one in Portuguese. Kooky. A lady comes out and greets me, then a dude and both invite me to wait another minute. The lady comes back out, tells me she's wrestling with the printer and she's waiting for a maintenance guy to fix it.
"Know anything about printers?" she half-jokingly asks. "The printer's not jammed, it's just acting up." I suggest she unplug it and try again. And that works.
"We'll have to comp your test," she jokes. There are some other things she's got to fix as well, so I'd best go get some coffee downstairs cuz it'll be 15-20 minutes before she's ready. So I go back home, make a cup of coffee, field a call from the mechanic who says my car inspection IS going to be expensive, it's just a matter of how much money now. Heading back over, I have my coffee mug with me and return to the 3rd floor. They redirect me to the lobby area to register. Aren't I pre-registered? Yes, but you have to register and check in. Ok . . . this means waiting another half hour. While waiting, a hottie pharm rep walks in the front door and disappears. I finally get my registry interview form signing stuff, and then back upstairs. The hottie pharm rep rides the elevator up too. Where'd she come from? AMAZINGingly beautiful . . . I nod and smile, just a polite acknowledgement as I'm sure she must get hit on ALL the time.

Back on 3, they take me in to the little office and get set up. For a PFT, you breathe air into a machine: regular breathing first, then a big forceful breath push, and then they have you hyperventilate into the machine. You get so light headed . . . The guy running the test was pretty cool. More like a coach than a clinical guy, so it made for a more pleasant visit. After the initial battery of tests, he administered albuterol ( a broncho dialator) through an inhaler. I don't use my inhaler at home very often, just on an as needed basis. Albuterol is chemically similar to caffienne and he gave me a lot. more than I use even if I need it in a bad way. I know i sound like a junkie. He says, wait five minutes for that to take effect, I'll be back. I looked out the window, completely tweaked. He came back and we did the second battery of tests. Then of course the printer fails, and the power cord trick fails too. No lung function printout to put on the fridge. Dang! so they say no sweat, the insurance still gets billed. As I'm leaving, this guy from my old neighborhood walks in. Growing up there were three blonde girls, one in my grade, who lived up the street from me. Their dad is a doctor and I guess he works in South Side hospital. We said hey how are you and stuff, and then it was off to work. Yeah and then crossing the parkign lot, too, was the hottie pharm rep. :D
Yes, I'm all jazzed up on caffienne and caffienne-like stuff . . . but I think I' m starting to settle a little now. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh . . . :)

Here's a story from a month ago or so ... I was reluctant to share it, but then changed my mind.

My Puerile / Senile Rant: This isnt' pretty . . . Ever have one of those days where there isn't anything too too bad that happens but you feel shitty all the same? That would be yesterday. Work was OK, nothing exceptional. So it was neutral. Then I go to tutor. The 500 is a human sardine can, sans mustard sauce. Although this lady was telling me that some guy almost huked before he made it off the bus so . . . anyways, it was crowded. On the upside of that ride, halfway there, there were three college coeds who the driver let squeeze on (I was at the very front of the bus), and it was kinda like coed Neopolitan Ice cream: a blonde a brunette and a redhead, all cutie-pies. So being squished between them made the ride a bit more tolerable.So I get to tutoring. I made some good progress with my tutee, and he says out of the blue: "You look really old." Mind you, this is coming from a 12 yr old, so I imagine ! 23 is pushing the limits of something, let alone 28. But then afterwards his mom says, "You're like the Granpa who says: Come hear and sit down, you're gonna learn something." Which is I guess why I'm there, and it's a compliment sorta, cuz my guy is learning stuff apparently, but I'm not even 30 and I'm a grandpa? HUH?!??!?! what am I senile? anyways . . . so then I go to play racquetball, and that was super frustrating, but at least it worked out in the end. So ... I get home ... all bent, and I wanna go for a beer. Yeah, i'll go for like one beer. it's 11:30, so I'll be flying solo, kind of a given. Everyone is already home, ready for bed or soon to be. I think, i'll go to Dee's cuz maybe I'll see someone i know there. and I step outside and think, no it's a bit far, there'll be nobody I know there. Everyone is already home, ready for bed or soon to be. So I wander over to another local bar. It's a bit busy, but there's an open stool at the far end of the bar, and I sit. "Iron City" says, I. Then I start watching Letterman. On one side is a lat thirties couple, all googly with each other, which is cool. And next to me on the other side are two women and a guy: all 3 are in their mid to late forties (Who was just moaning about age?). They look local. I assume two of the three are a married couple or something. And they're talking about whatever. I'm watching Letterman. This guy on the show is doing bird calls, and it's funny funny funny. The dude with the two women rolls around to see what's funny. He;s standing behind me... like right behind me... wierd, but whatever, the TV;s at angle so ... I lean forward. Then I'm about done with my one beer, about to shake out when the bartender and these three are like "you got a beer coming." "No, I'm good thanks." These three are quite insistent that I stay for another beer. I have hardly spoken to them . . . wierd ! . . . so I shrug, say 'OK, thanks." An they go on talking about whatever. I sip my new beer and keep watching TV. Some hottie blonde actress comes on, and she's funny. starts talking about leather outfits . . . the dude says, "LEatHEer OUtfiTS? well Well WELL ... " and looks at me and then his friends and smiles. Awkward feeling of "you've-been-bought-a-different-beer-than-you-thought" washes over me, feeling increased as dude, stands behind me, and is now sorta leaning against me ... I lean forward and away from him. And it becomes apparent what is going on. "Friendly-local-guy-out-with-wife-and-wife's-friend beer" is revealed to be "I-think-you're-cute beer." How naieve am I? how unawares like clueless little boy (hence the puerile) am I? I dunno. So I finish my beer, nod and say an expressionless thanks ... " and I leave. I mean, it coulda been worse right? So on the way home i see my neighbor friends, Mike and Tammy. ! I say hi, I tell 'em aobut my naieve beer, and they giggle, and they tell me they were at Dee;s. "Oh I'm surprised you weren't there, all of you're friends were there. It was fun! :P . . . yeah i guess it coulda been worse, but i jsut had to rant.

Huh . . . sounds like I got some stuff to work out, but that there's hope and promise ahead. Now if we could only say the same for the rest of the world, US foreign policy and international relations. Seems like there's a lot of stuff there to be worked out. As many folks are saying, looking outside the US for your news seems to be the best approach . . . even the Canadians who back us on so many things aren't with GW . . . they'll help us fight terror in the Gulf and elsewhere, but no help kickin' out Saddam. We've got a sticky wicket folks . . .

I tried posting this earlier, but of course it disappeared right after I tried to post it. Quite fitting somehow ....
I woke this morning from a dream. As the weather was warm enough to leave the windows open and sunlight lit my room this morning, it was late May or early June in my dream. Definitely later in Spring. I was portaging a canoe thru the shallow bits of a stream and then pushed it on out into deeper waters. Fitting enough as I look back, it was possibly a snooze bar dream, so pushing back into the water of the subconscious seems quite appropriate. In real waking life, this lake is formed from a stream and I know it well from canoeing there often. When I would go, it was often shallower in some parts, shallow enough that you could see the tops or dorsal fins of the carp in the water. It was usually muddy too. As I wend my way along in my canoe, a stranger, also in a canoe and wearing a red cloak that hides his face accosts me. I politley acknowledge hima dn then try ignore him, but he persists, almost as if he wants to fight. I push myself away from his canoe with my paddle and head from the stream area out to where it's deeper lake water. The carp clear out, and there is an alligator making his way towards me. So I turn to head back into the stream where I figure I am safer. The gator nudges my boat and goes on his way. As I head into the stream where red cloak is waiting to meet me again. As he sidles up next to me he persists and I push him away with my paddle, he persits more and I poke him in the belly with my paddle. His legs and pelvis remain fixed to the seat, but his torso falls off and over into his canoe, revealing machinery and wires. My vanquished nemesis is a red cloaked robot, and paddling past him, I awoke. Kooky, methinks ... and this is what I found in the online dream dictionary stuff:
Spring To dream about spring is a sign of fortunate undertakings and cheerful companions.
May To dream of this month denotes prosperous times and pleasure for the young. Do not be discourage.
June Will have good earnings but must rely on own good judgement. Avoid rivals.

Canoe To see a canoe in your dream, represents serenity, simplicity, and independence. It is also a reflection of your emotional balance. You are moving ahead via your own power and determination.
Lake To see a lake in your dream, signifies your emotional state of mind. If the lake is clear and calm, then it symbolize your inner peace. If the lake is disturbed, then you may be going through some emotional turmoil.
Stream To see a stream in your dream, signifies that you will come upon a flow of fresh and profound ideas.
To see a frozen stream in your dream, indicates that your emotions have grown cold and hardened. This may reflect your hurt feelings which you need to confront and deal with.

Carp To see a carp in your dream, indicates that you need to put aside your pride and ego and not let it get in the way of friendships and relationships.
Alligator To see an alligator in your dream, signifies treachery, deceit, and hidden instincts. It may be a signal for you to take a new perspective on a situation. Alternatively, the alligator represents healing powers and qualities.
According to biblical interpretations, an alligator suggests that leviathan is king over the children of pride. (Psa 74:14, Job 41:1, Isa 27:1)
Chase To dream that you are being chased, signifies that you are avoiding a situation that you do not think is conquerable. It is often a metaphor for some form of insecurity. In particular, to dream that you are chased by an animal, represents your own unexpressed and unacknowledged anger which is being projected onto that animal. Alternatively, you may be running away from a primal urge or fear.
Cloak If see a torn or ragged cloak in your dream, signifies a separation between you and a friend or lover.
Adversary To dream that you are confronted by an adversary, signifies that you will defend any attacks against your interest.
To dream that you overcome an adversary, denotes that you will escape the effects of some serious disaster.
Red This is an indication of great passion and sensitivity in your emotional relationships.
Robot To see a robot in your dream, indicates that you are going about life in a mechanical and rigid way. You have lost the ability to express your feelings. Alternatively, a robot may symbolize the way you view your working life.

Happy St. Patrick's Day . . . !