It seems so foreign to me; this current state of hate that we, the collective, are stuck in. Is it the blank face of the Internet? Is it the Bozo in Chief who has given permission to just, quite frankly, be an a-hole? I mean, c’mon, lots of people have thought lots of things forever, but now, “all of a sudden” it is actually acceptable to say it. That’s just twisted. People making rude jokes then hiding behind “get a sense of humor again” instead of just admitting that they are an insensitive jerk who has embraced the collapse of sanctity. It’s always so easy to blame it on someone else. Whatever it is. Point the finger all day long but God forbid you ever look in the mirror. It’s like a plague. Let’s call it The Asshole Plague. All of a sudden, it’s everywhere. THEY are everywhere. Personally I feel like it’s the last stand of the white man. They know it, we know it. So out comes the fear and the hatred and the false threats and the misinformation that isn’t even information at all. Just another ruse to tighten the grip on power. Because once the power is gone, it is all over for your trip. Your power trip. Lights out guy. Because Time’s Up.
Back to the 80s. Hey, Ho, Let’s Go!
I’ve been thinking a lot about life in America these days, as it seems to become more arduous by the day. What with the ridiculousness in DC, the absence of empathy that has morphed into a celebration of nastiness online, and the general grey overhang of worry that is in the air, I find myself daydreaming back to the 80s. In the moment, I didn’t really like the 80s, especially the early years, as I was mired in my teenage angst. However, given what I now know, I long for the 80s like nobody’s business. Something I thought I would never do. Oh, to be back in 1984 again! Listening to Duran Duran and driving around aimlessly with my friends in my Mom’s red Chevy Malibu Classic. Inexplicably the windows only went down half way (remember that phase?!) but who cares! I was young and I was free, even if I didn’t feel free at the time. I’m not sure if I have a case of rose tinted sentimentality but it just seemed different then. Better. More possible. More allowable. More cordial. Less mean. I have the feeling that the varnish of civility is wearing thin, eroding every day and soon it will be dull, inconsequential and forgotten.
The ATL Effect
Wow, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve written. I’ve tried. I’ve logged in, I’ve logged out. I’ve started. I’ve stopped. I have a lot of drafts. lol Close-knit comes to mind with today’s prompt. Which immediately makes me think of my friends in Atlanta. Oh, the Atlanta Tribe. So magical. And I know it was for real. Not just some sentimental figment of my imagination. It happened. It was REAL. Now many years have passed and some of us have scattered about, some of us have stayed in the magical land of Atlanta. A lot has changed. Population. Traffic. More buildings, less trees. But the nascent days of my blossoming stand steady in my mind. The warmth. The flowers. The spectacular Springs. The wacky people I met along the way. It is a truly esoteric essence, being Southern. As a Yankee, I found it delightful. The dripping Magnolias melting away my Northeast edge. Every day in Atlanta felt like a vacation. Bursting out of the house, my face raised toward the sun, exclaiming “Oh, Atlanta!” Those memories will never fade, even when I do. They will be in there and for that I am grateful.
Unleash the Power of Your Mind
Ah yes, rhyme. One of my stickler words that I can never spell. That and its cousin rhythym. See, I couldn’t even spell it right then. It’s rhythm. I had to look it up. I always have to look it up. I find it kind of amazing that I can’t get a handle on that word. I seem to get a handle on most other things going on but for some reason, rhythm is not one of them. I remember in the sixth grade we had monthly spelling bees. I took great pride in my spelling prowess so by the time February rolled around and I still hadn’t won I was practically offended. At who or what I’m not sure as no one could spell these words for me. In any event, I marched downstairs and announced to my Dad that I was going to win the spelling bee that day. So in to school I went, ready. And…I won! Really only because all of us remaining kids spelled “license” wrong. I had a second chance and I pulled it off. It was the first time I realized the art of mindfully visualizing what you want. You put that image in your head, you focus your energies on it, you literally put your mind to it and there is a very good chance you will make it happen. It has served me well over the years. And I’ve been able to properly spell license ever since.
Break the Spell of Magnetism, I Try.
Oh man magnetic. You mean like when you are so attracted to someone when you don’t even know why? Or that feeling of wanting to go somewhere that doesn’t make sense to you? I do believe that magnetism is closely related to chemistry. It’s all this stuff that we just can’t control. And when you can’t control, it makes you want to control even more. And when that doesn’t happen, the resistance goes up and then that in and of itself becomes a lot of work. So much work in fact that this situation is now occupying your brain when in fact you don’t want it to occupy your brain. But because the chemical magnet works whether you want it to or not, you kind of don’t have a choice, until you become strong enough to make the choice and muster all of the strength you have to break the spell and even then sometimes it’s not enough. Yeah, that’s where I’m at. Perhaps today’s Daily Prompt should have been Ironic.
Magnetic
Stop Long Enough to Notice
I attended a funeral the other day. I always find it an interesting homage to someone, the whole funeral ritual. What strikes me in particular is riding in the funeral procession. Everything stops. The traffic stops, people on the street stop, even sound seems to stop. As I look at the calm, I always think, what a tribute by total strangers. Everything stops to honor a life, hopefully well lived. Everyone stops to notice, yes, this person is no longer with us. It’s one of the few things left that society notices. Well, most of the time but it’s certainly not like it used to be. These days everyone is too busy marching around in their own little worlds, cell phone in tow, to give a damn about anything. I honestly don’t like where we are at these days and I find myself staying out of the fray more and more. That of course, is not the right thing to do, for the more you stay away, the harder it is to deal with. Without coping mechanisms, life is that much harder upon venturing out when you must. The man being honored was 91. I can’t help but think how different the world was for him than it is for me. Time moved slower, the right things were important and people cared. We should be paying homage to that era of humanity and let it resonate with us enough to get back to where we belong. Civility.
The South Wins Out
Substandard. Now there’s a word that I just recently used. To describe my performance. Or lack thereof. I have always held myself to a higher standard, because, hey, if you don’t, who will? I remember when I first moved to L.A. to work in Hollywood in 1990, I immediately noticed the difference between the West Coast kids and the East Coast kids like me. We simply outworked them. Our natural (nurtured?) East Coast hustle outpaced the laid back attitude of the California natives. Not that it had anything to do with substandard anything, it’s just a memory that popped in to my head. The details are as precise as a laser in my memory of the Hollywood years. I was fresh out of college and in retrospect, was so high strung about making my mark and being successful (there are those high standards again) that I remember just being stressed out all the time. In California. How ironic. I didn’t last long. I could go on and on as to why but at the end of the day, I just didn’t like it. Also ironic because as a kid all I did was dream of going to California like my cousins did. Then, I finally get there and…that. After the L.A. letdown, I had it in my head that Northern California was the place for me but the Bay Area was an impenetrable fortress of real estate hell, much like it is now. Instead I found my home in the American South, with its charm and its ease and its balminess. Now that was some magic. ATL in the Nineties. My words will never do it justice but my memories, they will serve me well. I will cherish them forever, until I can remember no more.
Substandard
Back When Lust Was Innocent
The word lust reminds me of Jimmy Carter. Yes, it’s true. Back when he was campaigning or maybe even President he admitted to lustful feelings in an interview. And Lord Almighty, the whole world just about fell apart. It was so scandalous. People were scandalized! Shocked, dismayed, the moral fabric of their being unraveling before their very eyes that a statesman, a leader, THE PRESIDENT would discuss such a sordid topic.
Flash forward to today. Most of us WISH that were the most lurid thing going on. We are so far afield of that 1970s Jimmy Carter moment it doesn’t even feel like the same lifetime to me. But it is. Somebody told me today that they felt like everything was upside down on the priority list. Respect, decorum and civility are racing to the bottom, while ignorant, abhorrent behavior is fighting for that championship belt. I often think of my grandmother when pondering this current state. I feel thankful that she did not live to see society’s downward spiral into shame or, more aptly, lack thereof. She was too gentle, too much of a lady to have to witness the unraveling of civilized behavior. Me, I’m used to it, having been down in it since the start. Not that I can pinpoint when that is. Although, I do maintain that Sept. 11th, 2001 ruined everything. We were coming off the swinging 90s with Slick Willie when all of a sudden came the darkest of moments. We have been at war since, and the world has gotten angrier and angrier. Something shifted that day. A chasm burst open and let loose humanity’s dark side. Hard to believe it’s been almost 16 years. Will we ever recover?
Lust
Hustlin’ for My Own Good
What a pest this pesky day job thing is. I use the term day job loosely because I am still my own boss, successfully having a summer full of hustle to further my goal of never working for The Man again. However, every once in a while you run into a gig so intense, so consuming that it upsets your cosy little apple cart and you end up not writing at ALL for well over a month! I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just happened. So the dust has settled, I’ve gotten some damn sleep and I am back in the driver’s (writing) seat again. I also use the term summer loosely because I am actually wearing a hoodie. In July. If this is any indication of the coming winter, I would rather not discuss it. Although the good, no great news is that I no longer have to get up, out and into it anymore. The Man will just have to get by without me. God knows I’m getting by without him.
Pest
Thanks Sunny!
Who doesn’t love sunny? Here in New England, we cherish it. We long for it. We pine for it. The window is small for sunny here. Most of the time we are battling. Battling the weather, battling the traffic, battling each other. I swear this place is taking years off of my life just by being so arduous a place to live. Then why am I here you ask? That is a good question. I guess it has to do with family ties that bind and all that and the pure fact that this is where la familia landed when they came over from Italy. If they had gone all the way to California, I would be there. (she says wistfully) But I’m not there I’m here and while I’m here I may as well make the most of it. I did leave. For a long time. But for whatever reason, we all come back to Massachusetts. It’s like there’s some strange pull. The ocean. The foliage. The Red Sox. I don’t know what it is but it pulled me back and here I am, typing and looking out my window, grateful for this sunny June day.
Cahlas Tawkin 