Sunday, June 27, 2010

18 & Sun Baked

The need to write isn't the same need as normal.  Normally I have words running all over each other in my head causing thought traffic delays.  This is more of a pile of post its and bar napkins and various shards of paper with one liners from either me or random others.  The pile was starting to get out of control so here's a post dedicated completely to them.  I will try to give credit where credit is due and disguise some players cleverly with dark rim glasses and black fuzzy mustaches if necessary.

"Isn't it funny how things that have tails don't have butt cracks?" - Me on the subject of trust and if people had tails how much easier it would be to spot the crack pots.  You can't fake a wag and if its tucked you'd know they were up to get my point.  I'm aware there is argument with the tail/crack statement but really horse-ish creatures are the only real exception that I can see...moving on.

"I'm a skitzoid and maybe I'm a man" - Said by Carter...not sure of the context...not even sure if context would matter.  Whaaatt?

"I can almost swear that I've never fucked anybody from West Virginia" - Said by Mr Man after apparently one two or seventy too many shots.  It wasn't until later that I brought a reasonable doubt to light.  He happened to live in Ohio for a questionable man whore stint.  Last time I checked it borders WV...the odds are there, that's all I'm saying.

"Heels mean  you paid for it...Tennis shoes mean you found it" - Credit to L square.  Comment on the upside down tennys I'd witnessed sticking out the passenger window of a big truck earlier that day...obvious head in traffic action.  We deduced from his cleverness that the guy had in fact just gotten lucky most likely for free.

On that note "I've never slept with a hooker" - break return from potty- amends statement "in this country" - Anonymously said.  For future argument sake if you only did it once or if said act takes place outside of the continental US you have a hall pass.

"Anybody that fights with their feet and fucks with their faces ain't for me" - Dukeism on the French.  Have to gather that he's not a fan...ya think?

"You are aware...Both of us have gone to a bar with a book in the same week."  Me to Nanner.  We are both reading some version of sex memoirs.  Chelsea Handler for me and Blanche the Golden Girl  for her who's real name escapes me at the moment.  Book exchange in the immediate future.

A very serious faced Roblet (this draws attention just in itself because let's admit never happens) says "Hey guys, I've got a question for you...(dramatic pause) WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?!"....deep sigh.

"Crabs don't poop...they don't even have butt holes" - An ongoing argument between me and my favorite vet.  Trust him with my furry son?  Absolutely.  But there's no way  in hell I'm gonna let him do a lobotomy on my pet crab if I ever decide to get one.

"The lack of awareness of the hotness is hotter than the hotness" - Me to Nanner(because let's not kid ourselves...who the hell else would possibly say this besides me) I was on subject of a hot Shemar Moore look-a-like that she went out with, who was a little too aware of the above mentioned hotness. (This is my general opinion of all hotness and hotness people know who you are)  As it turned out for ole Shemar, hot awareness is quite counter productive....another deep sigh.

Since Roger has no real voice he has to make notable quotes best way he knows how...through poo.  This was yesterdays rather substantial the perfect shape of an 18.  I was sans camera so I found it again today.  One day of 5000 degree heat and direct sun and this is what we have...

This one comes from someone I obviously don't know or associate can tell by the sheer depth of the quote that they probably don't hang out with people who photograph and share dog poo accomplishments.  "I asked for a miracle.  And I considered the possibility of another possibility." - Marianne Williamson

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Father's Day Minus the Integral Part

Last week on the beach I tried writing something for Daddy.  It started off as a letter of unanswered questions.  I got one written and for the life of me couldn't come up with another.  Then yesterday I got a magazine in the mail and immediately opened it up and ripped all those little sewn in postcard thingys out of it.  Its the first thing I do every single time, and I realized where I got it from.  Him.  So I started writing down everything that I got from him.  I have his thumbs, I think it was the first thing they checked  when I was born...I never noticed how strikingly the same our hands looked until he was sick and his hands were more the size of mine.  I have his dimples and even though our smiles are different we both smile and make fun and dork off most of the time.   I drag my right heel when I walk...same way he did.  I have the same nervous energy that refuses me the ability to sit still and not at least pick my nails constantly.  He had an eye for pictures and was always in the yard in spring trying to catch the humming birds on his zinnias.  I got his sense of money and his way of making what you have be all that you need and still save some.   I have the forehead crinkle, that before I figured out where it came from almost had it botoxed out.  Apparently our brains are wired similarly because only a fraction of what happens in here makes out to words and sometimes they come out as complete flying non-sequeters that no one around can figure exactly how the randomness relates to whatever is going on.  I always thought that he lived inside head.  He would talk for my stuffed animals when I was little...I think he gave Beaver his voice, I take full responsibility for it attitude and language.  Belief in the far apart as we were in what unbelievables we believed I think the blind trust in something more than what can be seen came from him.
I don't want to disillusion and make it seem that me and Daddy were super close or inseparable...that was more his relationship with my Mom. But an awful lot of who I am is a direct undeniable line to him. He was an emotional man and had no proudness when it came to expressing feelings and crying in front of anyone, as you well know I  did not get this trait...but I cry as I write this.
Probably the most important thing that he taught me came in his early exit of stage left.  He taught me not to wait to buy a bicycle, not to wait to move to where you want to be, not to wait, or chance, or regret not doing anything.  He taught me that we don't have tomorrow to live...all we have is Now.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Heavy...Now Hand Me My Camera

Bullshit digital photography has ruined my life.  An out loud proclamation after finding and pilfering through my old black and white film albums.  Somewhere over the last several years of everydays I've desensitized.  Whether it be out of necessity or self preservation or involuntary reaction to keep on even keel, I really don't have a clue, but I've lost my passion.  Passion for things that actually register feelings. People joke about me being a guy actuality I'm some where between that and an emotional concrete wall.  Pretty much nothing creates a ripple.  So as I was looking through the black and white past, I felt something.  Looking back at me where people being rawly who they were.  I could almost see their souls.  No cheesy posing camera smiles.  If it wasn't captured on paper you would never have known there had been a camera present. 
I've lost my way...but I'm close behind. Its a song lyric that's been stuck in my head. I feel like I'm missing something. That portion of me that's always the first to get gone.  The portion of me that makes me different.  That part that still feels like a rebellious kid even though its fully aware that it's some how gotten trapped inside a 37 year old body. The need for purpose is weighing heavy on me.  I need something of me back. I remember sitting on the beach more than 10 years ago thinking almost the exact same thoughts as today.  The What Now side of brain is still screaming at me. I think at this point I can honestly admit that I doubt I'll ever stop asking What Now?  Doesn't speak much to progress but at least I'm consistent in my own fucked up way.  I drug my real camera out of hiding, enough with the stupid point and shoots and fucking camera phones. I've started seeing things through a camera eye again and the moon on the waterway was amazing last night.
I'm off to find a ripple.