What Stopped Me?

There is an "introductory" announcement somewhere in this message. Please don't stop reading too soon.

Aside from girls, photography was my biggest passion during junior-high, high-school and early college. I was a photographer on the annual staff during my senior year in high school. I took many basketball pictures for myself, and I even worked for the college newspaper for one semester as a freshman.

So what stopped me from pursing a photography career? Probably my lack of drive had a little to do with it; but a particular person seems to have sealed the deal. When I was a freshman in college, I took two photography classes (the only two offered). One day we had a guest speaker whose father was the owner of a local photography studio. This speaker had gone into business with his father after getting out of college. This "kid" was not much older than I. Before continuing, I must admit that the two or three studios in this town, including the speaker's studio, produced some of the finest landscape and studio photographs I had seen up to that time. This speaker knew how good he was, too, and he emanated conceit every time he opened his mouth. He was also condescending when replying to our (or at least my) questions. I had met such people many times before in this area, so that was no big deal. The difficulty came when he warned us (or me in particular?) not to get into the business if we weren't prepared to invest a lot of money in a photography major and later in the business itself. The implications were (I cannot remember if he said it out loud or not) that we should be really, really good photographers, even at that early age, or it would be pointless to pursue such an expensive career any further. That was easy for him to say, I thought. His father had done all of the heavy investing in order to start the studio that he was now working in (his college education was probably paid for by his father also).

Naturally, as a freshmen, I was not wealthy. I couldn't afford an expensive college. Furthermore, I figured I was not half as good a photographer as our conceited guest speaker. So, without actually making a conscious decision, I just slowly lost the will to pursue a career as a photographer (although the desire was still there). By that time, I had many irons in the career fire, anyway, so it didn't bother me too much to toss one of them out. What was one less career goal?

I didn't stop taking pictures, though. In fact, I took vast amounts of them year after year. I took them at home, at college basketball games, out in nature, etc. I don't know why I never tried harder to work for a newspaper or magazine, even without a degree in photography. I guess life just kept leading me in meaningless directions (like a tumbleweed blowing in the wind).

Then Came Digital Photography
A year and half ago, I bought my first digital camera, a 4MP Nikon CoolPix 4300. If only such cameras had existed when I was a freshman in college. My career path would almost certainly have been decided. For that matter, if only iMovie had existed then too... Sigh...

When I bought my camera, I was living all alone on that isolated ranch in Wyoming; therefore, my picture-taking opportunities were somewhat limited. The situation has been no better here in western Nebraska. For that reason, I have taken hundreds of pictures of nature and quite a few of cats. Why cats? Because they make great subjects, and they never protest. Most importantly of all, they were handy.

You Are Invited...
So, without further ado, I hereby cordially invite you to visit MY NEW FLICKR ACCOUNT (the link will always be in my sidebar). I've been intending to set one up for months, but, until this week, I wasn't in the mood to select and resize so many images (the originals are five or six times as large as those that appear on Flickr; however I had storage limitations to consider, etc.).

Be sure to click on the sets named "Sunrise Fog" and "Sunset at Scotts Bluff Monument." Also be sure to click on the various "tag" links. I created a lot of alternate sets by using tags. After clicking on each thumbnail, be sure to scroll down to the "Additional Information" section and click on "See different sizes." Then click on the "largest" option.

You may even find an image (a single image) that contains several different shots of yours truly. :-P

Not counting my photo, I hope you enjoy the show.

Twenty-Eight and a Half Things

I apologize for not having written for such a long time; however, if I force myself to write when I am not in the mood to do so, then the final result is often a pitiful thing to read. Since I have not been in the mood to write lately, I decided not to write because I didn't want to write something pitiful. That's quite a truism, eh?

I did make several feeble attempts to write something prior this entry because I miss corresponding with all of you, but I quit every time almost as soon as I started. Even now, as I write this, I am still not really in the mood to put my thoughts on paper, but my desire to say "Hi," is much stronger than my desire not to write.

Therefore, as Dr. Nick Riviera (The Simpsons) always says in his famous accent, "Hi, everybody!" :-)

In order to avoid writing something that is a pitiful thing to read (or at least I can partially disguise it if it is pitiful), I am going to use the list format. In other words, I will simply make a list of random things (28 and a half things, to be exact) that have happened since you last heard from me. These things may or may not have anything to do with one another, and they may or may not be the sort of things that lists are even made of (probably not); nonetheless, it's an easy way out, so...

without further ado, and in totally non-chronological order (with the exception of No. 1):

1.) I went to southeastern South Dakota (450 miles east-northeast of here) on March 1, and returned to western Nebraska on March 13. I have been very restless since my return, because I don't like being here (understatement). That is the main reason that I have not been in the mood to write anything. Is there anyone else out there who has ever felt (or still feels) this way after returning from a long trip?

2.) It was extremely refreshing to get away from this place where I have lived in virtual isolation for almost two years. Maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration, but it has certainly felt like isolation. Making the trip even better still was the fact that I was among relatives who treated me as if I was a cross between royalty and some long-lost best friend (yeah, I know; go figure :-). It had been quite a long time since I last visited their neck of the woods (so to speak), and they just went out of their way to make me feel at home. All told, I stayed with three different families (two cousins and an aunt and uncle) and visited briefly with others.

3.) It was also great simply to be back in my home state of South Dakota. It was my first real visit inside those borders in over four years. There is an aura that surrounds that state, at least in my very biased opinion, and I always feel very content whenever I am there, no matter what part of the state I am in and no matter what I am doing (lazing about or sweating profusely at some construction job).

4.) Now I am back in this place of exile again (western Nebraska), with its over abundance of not-so-sociable residents, and it has been tough trying to get back in the rut of things.

5.) All of my relatives tried to talk me into staying with them indefinitely (believe it or not) in order to visit, but also so that I could search for employment in that area. If I didn't have certain responsibilities here in Nebraska, as well as an aversion to living as a long-term guest in other people's homes, I might have considered accepting their invitations to stay on.

6.) On two different days during my trip, I helped Aunt "Rory" (not her real name) move her possessions from her farm to a newly constructed house in a town 35 miles away. Now that she is a widow, she will be auctioning her farm off in a couple of weeks. Note: I never address my relatives as "Aunt Emma," "Uncle Ralph" or "Cousin Bob." I am only doing that in this entry so that you can keep their identities straight.

7.) Oh yeah, and there is also one feeble excuse for my not having stayed indefinitely: I have some spoiled-rotten, overly devoted cats here in Nebraska who are completely lost if they are not following my every move. I didn't realize how badly I was spoiling them as they grew up (that is a mistake I will never make again). Anyway, I knew they were probably thinking their world had come to an end without their fearless leader to follow constantly.

8.) Cousin "Jill" (not her real name either) encouraged me to apply for work at a couple of different companies in that area of South Dakota. I did not take her advice, though. It is highly doubtful that they had any vacancies anyway; and the line of applicants waiting to fill the next vacancy probably stretches around the same block two or three times (these are not the reasons that I didn't apply; in fact, they didn't even occur to me at the time; I'm just saying that is probably the case).

9.) I took my new Epson Perfection 4180 scanner and my PowerBook laptop with me and scanned about 200 old family photographs during my visit. That soon became monotonous work, but my Aunt "Jean" was simply fascinated with the whole process. She frequently pulled a chair up beside mine to watch, even though I told her the actual scanning process is like watching paint dry. I added that the fun part is seeing the photos on the computer -- at 20 times their normal size and vividly clear -- once the scanning is completed. She was so fascinated with it that she started giving me piles of her favorite photographs to scan also.

10.) In spite of my "responsibilities" here in Nebraska, I might actually have considered applying for work at the places my cousin suggested; however, they only pay average to-less-than average hourly wages. Such wages used to be perfectly acceptable to me in more carefree times, but it just isn't practical to indulge in that sort of "luxury" anymore. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to move that far away just to take a relatively low-paying job and perform a task that probably reeks of tedium and meaninglessness. Been there, done that (figuratively speaking), and I don't want to be there and do that anymore -- unless I have no other choice. If it eventually turns out that I have no other choice, and if my responsibilities here have finally been taken care of permanently, I might consider "being there and doing that" again (in spite of my preferences).

11.) Cousin Jill half seriously suggested (several times) that I buy her poorly run hometown newspaper. For some reason, it didn't seem to matter to her that it isn't for sale.

12.) I spent several days staying at the farm home of Aunt "Jean" and Uncle "Albert" (not their real names, of course). They are both retired now. Albert endured some serious medical problems a few years ago and almost died. Since then, he has had an insatiable desire to enjoy life to the fullest. Prior to that time, he was a workaholic who had almost never taken any time to go on vacations or do other enjoyable things with his wife and children (when the children were still at home, that is). Now he and Jean (Jean is my dad's sister) travel frequently and enjoy one another's company more than any man and woman I've known in many years. I enjoyed staying with them for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that Albert has a very dry sense of humor. In fact, it is so dry that I sometimes wonder if he realizes that he is being funny on some occasions. He also has a natural ability to make a person feel completely at ease around him. Not many people can do that.

13.) Temperatures hovered around 70 degrees on a couple of different days while I was there. Another day the wind gusted to almost 60 mph. Overall, though, it was dry (not a drop of snow) and luke cool.

14.) Cousin Jill owns a "spare" house in the country that she wants me to rent from her. She wouldn't quit trying to talk me into it. It is an unusual sight to behold. It is a 1950s-style house that was built in the 1980s by a man whose level of eccentricity was just one notch below the level at which they commit you to an asylum. At least that's how the story sounded to me, and I tend to believe it after seeing that house. It is as if he built each room separately and the two different stories separately, using completely different blueprints for each room and each floor. Then, whether they fit together or not, he bumped them up against one another, in a long, narrow trailer-house fashion, threw the second story on top, put siding on all of it and called it a house. It is built into the side of a hill, so that only the top level shows from the north side (the side facing the road). In spite of all of that, it is still a somewhat intriguing place. The view of the hilly yard and open fields through the three large picture windows is pretty impressive (believe it or not, all three of the windows are lined up on the same wall in the living room). Jill put a lot of money into remodeling it, so it looks much better than it did when the man sold it to her (or so I am told).

15.) Gas prices were as low as $1.89 per gallon during my trip and as high as $2.09, the latter price being in effect on the day I returned to Nebraska (naturally). I believe $2.09 is the most I have ever paid for a gallon of gas.

16.) Jill's "spare" house, the one that she wants to rent to me, is located A.) one-quarter of a mile from her mother, Rory's, farm (she is the one who is selling out and moving to town), B.) about three or four miles from the farm of Uncle Albert and Aunt Jean, C.) about fifteen miles from Jill's house, D.) about seven miles from another cousin's house (a daughter of Albert and Jean), and E.) and about fifty miles from Sioux Falls, SD (population 125,000 and growing out of control).

17.) After dreaming about it for years, I was also going to visit my own home town while I was in South Dakota (it is located about three hours west and slightly north of my relatives' residences), but I couldn't make myself do it. More on that at some other time, maybe.

18.) Cousin "Jill" bought an iMac G5 flat-panel computer. It was delivered to her door the same day that I arrived in South Dakota (March 1). Last December she asked for my advice in buying a new computer. Naturally, I told her to get an iMac. She insisted that she needed me to help her set it up when it arrived. I told her that she could do it herself in less than five minutes. She didn't believe me. I decided to use her request as the incentive I needed to make the long trip to her home. After my arrival, I made her set it up while I watched. She plugged in the mouse, keyboard, power and internet. That was it. She was done in less than five minutes and couldn't believe I had not been exaggerating (the entire computer is contained inside the flat screen). The high-speed internet worked without any setup required. She has been completely amazed that all was as great as I had promised.

19.) I ate in an iHop for the first time ever. I had the stuffed crepes, and they were very good.

20.) Albert and I drove around his farm one cold, windy day, so I could take pictures of his property from different angles with my digital camera. He said he had always wanted to do something like that, but had never taken the time until I volunteered to do it with him. We drove through fields of tall stubble using his new 2005 Doge Caravan. I cringed as I listened to the stubble scraping the vehicle. I kept telling him he shouldn't be scratching the paint just to drive me around, but he was convinced that there would be no scratches. I was relieved to discover that he was right.

21.) Cousin "Timothy" and his wife "Clarissa" live in Sioux Falls. He is a brother to Jill. There are three more sisters in the family, too, but I saw only one of them for a few minutes. Of the five, I have always been closest to Tim and Jill. At one time, Tim was the manager of one of the three top restaurant/lounges in Sioux Falls, and I was one of his bartenders. I stayed with Tim and Clarissa from Friday night to Monday morning, and returned for one more overnight visit a day or two later. Once again, I enjoyed myself immensely. On Sunday afternoon it was so nice that Tim and I sat on his back patio drinking beer. Not bad for eastern South Dakota in the winter.

22.). One evening, Cousin Jill, Aunt Rory, Aunt Jean and I were watching a slide show of old family photographs on Jill's new iMac (photographs that I had scanned in recent years and brought with me). At one point (we must have been looking at photographs of my dad while he was in the army -- stationed at Heidelberg, Germany), Aunt Rory said, and I am paraphrasing, "Isn't it just terrible that all of our boys are in Iraq dying for no good reason?" With that one comment, she proved to me that there are rural South Dakotans who are not blind followers of the Bush doctrine. It also goes to show that independent thinking runs in my family. :-)

23.) Amazingly, Cousin Tim, like his sister Jill, bought an iMac G5 while I was there (at a local Macintosh store). He did this so that I could help him choose the right one, as well as to get him started in the ways of the Mac once it was set up. I was totally amazed at this decision to buy one because he used to make fun of me for using Macs. I guess things are finally starting to look up, thanks in large part to the iPod (although that is not why Tim bought his new iMac).

24.) One evening, Uncle Albert and Aunt Jean were playing dominoes on one side of the dining-room table, while I was scanning photographs on the other side the same table. The evening news was on the TV in the background. President Gomer started to speak. I was suddenly in a dilemma. I refused to break my record of not listening to the sound of his voice; however, didn't have the remote control, and I couldn't very well plug my ears like a child in front of Albert and Jean. So I threw courtesy to the wind and bravely grabbed the remote control from its spot beside Albert. As I was reaching across the table, I smiled and said to both of them, "I hope you will forgive me for being so presumptuous [or something like that], but I simply have to mute your TV while Bush is speaking. I hope you won't be too offended." Jean replied, "We're not too fond of him either." That was the only political comment they made during my entire visit, and it was music to my ears.

25.) Uncle Albert is definitely not an elitist snob when it comes to wine. He buys cheap gallon jugs of the stuff, although he drinks only one or two half glasses a day, due to his health. As for me, his "honored" guest, he kept filling my glass with the stuff over and over, as if I was a wino. And I drank it as if I was a wino. :-)

26.) After I had helped to empty Uncle Albert's supply of wine over a period of days, we stopped at a liquor store in town (while helping Aunt Rory move). It was during our time in that store that he told me one of his "real" reasons for buying that particularly cheap brand of wine: "It has 20 percent alcohol." I laughed my head off. Finally, I had found someone who uses the same criteria when buying wine that I use. :-) 

27.) After buying the wine, Albert, Jean and I stopped at the local Wal-Mart to buy a couple of items (yes, I despise Wal-Mart). As we entered the store, I spied two young Mennonite or Hutterite women sitting in the restaurant section, complete with the old-fashioned clothing and white cloth caps on their heads (they were probably Hutterites). There are quite a few of them in eastern South Dakota. For those of you who do not know, Mennonites and Hutterites are somewhat like the Amish (in fact, they are all part of the same sect). Like the Amish, some of them still wear the old-fashioned clothing, but, unlike the Amish, they all have electricity in their homes, drive modern vehicles and use motorized tractors and other farming equipment. Some, like the two young women I saw, still live in separate old-fashioned communities, but most others live in regular communities among the population at large.

One of these young women was particularly pretty, and I was reluctant to walk on past without at least admiring her for a few seconds (discreetly, of course). Luckily, Albert helped me by going to the restroom, which is located in the restaurant. After I had walked on with Jean for a short distance, I returned to wait for Albert. Once again, I inspected the pretty one. Both of them were sitting with their backs to the main part of the store, but they had their heads turned and were watching the people passing by. The pretty one, who was in the best position to see me, started looking at me, seemingly as much as I was looking at her. I knew nothing could EVER happen between us though, even if she was, by the greatest stretch of the imagination, interested in me. I was just happy to be noticed by a woman who was different (more innocent?) from the women who inhabit the world I live in (boy what a pair we would have made, anyway! the modern radical spiritualist and the fanatically devout 19th-century woman :-).

I came up with two theories for what she and her friend might be thinking as they watched all the activity. 1.) They were simply aghast at the evil, decadent, worldly people passing so close to them, and they were praying that none of it would rub off on them. 2.) They were sitting there desperately hoping that some brave man would come along and rescue them from their bland, empty, overly strict lives. Was that pretty one watching me with either of those thoughts in mind? I preferred to imagine the second one. Most likely, though, they were just wishing they could be like everyone else for a while, instead of being like two kids sitting in a candy store and forbidden from ever eating any of it. When I pointed the pretty one out to my uncle, he was just as intrigued with her as I was.

28.) Aunt Jean let me use an ergonomic pillow while I stayed at her place (I cannot think of the actual name right now). I awoke with a very well rested head and neck. She gave me the pillow when I returned home.

28 1/2.) As I was brokering a deal for world peace, I...

P.S. - Eclectic music lovers, I highly recommend a great oldie that I heard for the first time three days ago. Its title: "Topsy II" by Cozy Cole (1958). I'm not too fond of most jazz music, although there are some notable exceptions, and "Topsy II" is definitely one of them. It does not fit the usual jazz stereotype. There is a lot of good old-fashioned music in it. Just wait until that long, outstanding drum solo begins about one-third of the way into the song (I absolutely love drums!).

Sincerely yours, You Name It

My Habits and Indulgences

Fallmode has requested that her readers follow in her footsteps and list their habits/addictions (this topic that was originally begun by Clarity25, at least in "this neck of the DiaryLand woods"). I found Fallmode's list to be quite entertaining.

Before continuing, I must confess that I have a big dislike for habits and addictions, especially those that are unhealthy and/or stereotypical in nature. To those of you who have unhealthy and/or stereotypical habits/addictions... No offense.

No, I'm not trying to be a squeaky-clean saint. No way. Not me. It's just that I grew up watching adults (seemingly every other one) selfishly indulging in bad habits as if there would be no tomorrow without them, and it was a major turn off. I just didn't want to be like them when I grew up.

Not all of the items in my list can actually be called habits, and none are blatantly unhealthy. Some are just regular routines or are favorite indulgences that I cannot avoid when they are placed in front of me. If they aren't in front of me, then I don't think of them (most of the time). Several of them may seem somewhat silly. I have decided to ignore the part of me that doesn't like looking silly... and publish them anyway.

As you are reading these and possibly thinking, "Nerd!" please keep in mind that I scored a 19 on the nerd test, meaning that I have very little nerd in me. :-)

Habits that came and went:

1. Eating ice - This was definitely a habit (but certainly not unhealthy or stereotypical). I first started eating ice in the very hot summer at the end of my 4th-grade year. I didn't just eat it out of a glass. I would actually get an ice tray out of the freezer every hour or two and eat a few of the ice chips. The colder the ice, the better. I loved it when it cracked in my mouth. This was an irregular habit, though. I would go a year or two without eating ice, then I would begin again for a few months or a year, then stop again for a year or two. I am no longer "addicted" to ice and have not been for quite some time.

2. When I was in grade school and early junior high, I started going to sleep with the sound of a fan running. This habit began during the same hot summer that I began eating ice. Besides the cooling effect of the blowing air, I was lulled to sleep by the white noise. It also drowned out the sound of the TV and of my parents talking in the living room. I outgrew it by the time I reached high school.

3. In about the seventh grade, I started listening to the radio all night long. I would keep at a barely audible level (above the sound of the fan, though), so that I felt as if I was imagining the music rather than really hearing it. If I had set the volume any louder than that, it would have kept me awake instead of lulling me to sleep. That being said, there were many times when a favorite song of mine would come on in the middle of the night. The familiar sound would wake me up, and I would lie there in total comfort and peace, listening until it ended. Amazingly, I was always able to fall asleep again fairly quickly afterward.

Continuing habits and indulgences:

4. Working on my Macintosh computer (writing, scanning photos, surfing the internet, etc.). - Using a Macintosh is like driving a Mercedes instead of a Windows cement mixer. They are simply so much fun to use that most Mac users find themselves making up reasons to "drive" somewhere just for the sheer pleasure of it.

5. Peanut butter cookies. - The only earthly cookie endorsed by the gods.

6. Eating breakfast - I cannot even conceive of starting my day without eating a bowl of cereal (or, every once in a while, a heavily sugared bowl of oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon). As for my favorite cereal, absolutely nothing beats Golden Grahams. I cannot get enough of them when they are in the house. Regrettably, they're too expensive to eat on a regular basis.

7. Showering in the morning - "A habit or an indulgence?" you ask. Yes! Definitely both a habit and an indulgence. That hot water performs amazing magic on my sleep-dulled senses. It dramatically increases my energy level. I can almost feel it washing away the negative "vibes" that have built up over the previous 24 hours. Oh yeah... My friends probably appreciate the "unintended" side effect of my lack of body odor, too.

8. Reading in bed every night before going to sleep - Since I was a very young boy (when comic books were my favorite reading material), I have read in bed before going to sleep. In fact, the only way I could fall asleep was to keep reading until the book dropped out of my hands. Now, for the first time in my life, this habit has suffered a major setback. For the past several months, I have been almost completely unable to read in bed (or anywhere else either). Instead, I lie there and stare at the several hundred books on my bookshelves (they line the walls of my bedroom) and try to figure out which one looks even slightly intriguing. Thus far, none of them have. Because of this, I end up just lying there, staring at them (and the ceiling and the walls) until I cannot hold my eyes open anymore (this quasi-meditative state is almost comforting in its own way). On the rare occasions that I have tried to read, I usually had to give up after only a few pages, and I wouldn't bother with that book anymore. I sincerely hope this is just a passing phase.

9. Cursing the majority of other drivers - This is completely justifiable behavior in this region because most drivers here are long past the age of retirement, and they all drive with an attitude that clearly says, "I am your elder. I have earned the right to be self-centered, selfish and oblivious, and you have to respect me for it -- as you tag along behind me at 25 mph in a 45-mph zone." When these elderly drivers pull out in front of you, they are completely unconcerned with the fact that they are going to be holding up a long line of traffic (and around here it is their evil goal ALWAYS to pull out in front of you, even if you are the only other driver for a mile in either direction).

10. Muting Bush - Very strictly kept GOOD habit - For several years now, I have muted the TV news whenever there is even a hint that President Bush is going to speak -- even if it is only for a few seconds. His twangy voice, his obvious lies (including sins of omission), his smugness, his juvenile obnoxiousness, his incoherent speaking style and his self-righteousness drive me insane (notwithstanding his secretly taped admission that he used drugs in his youth). Believe it or not, I just now muted him while writing this paragraph because CNN is running a clip of him speaking in Brussels, Belgium. He will soon be within earshot of Clarity and Eric in Germany, relatively speaking.

11. Sometimes I talk too much when in the presence of others, especially if I am in a hurry or nervous.

12. Not being serious when visiting with others. This only happens in person, not when I am writing to them.

13. Sneaking out of a bar or house party whenever I am with a group of friends. My friends frequently try to talk me out of going home if I announce my intentions to them; so I have learned to keep my intentions a secret. I eventually just sneak out the back door after going to the restroom. It is also possible that I occasionally sneak out in order to avoid the possibility that they won't care if I am leaving. :-)

That's it. It was a struggle to come up with that many. I guess people's habits are more noticeable to those who live and work with them every day. However, I'm sure very few of us would allow someone else to list our habits for the whole world to read. N'est pas?

Those Runamok Dreams

On Valentine's night, I had a very strange "erotic" dream that started out promisingly enough, but then fell completely apart, as usual. Why do my dreams always have to fall apart? Theoretically, it is my own imagination that is fueling my dreams, so why do I do that to myself? I have always had a vivid waking imagination that has never taken ridiculous or unpleasant detours. Why is it, then, always doing so when I am asleep?

Or is it possible that my subconscious, sleeping self is really separate from my conscious, waking self? And, even worse, my subconscious, sleeping self despises my conscious, waking self (for any number of valid reasons)? Is my subconscious self, therefore, determined to stick it to my conscious self by teasing it with the promise of good dreams every night and then ruining them just when they are starting to get good? The evidence overwhelmingly supports that theory.

As I was saying, I had a very strange "erotic" dream on Valentine's night. It was also, literally, the most "clinical" erotic dream I had ever had. For some unknown reason, I found myself in an actual sex seminar, something like one might see on a low-budget HBO or Showtime "documentary." I'm sure there were other men there, but I only remember about five or six women and myself (which was fine by me). As the dream began, the female instructor was pointing to and describing the more exciting and popular parts of the female anatomy, using several different seminar attendees as her subjects. These female attendees also happily allowed a hands-on inspection by those of us who were not willing to take the instructor's word for it. ;-)

For the short period of time that this part of the dream lasted, it seemed to hold great promise; nonetheless, it was a bit too clinical for me. Unlike the stereotypical men of the world, I'm a big fan of intimacy. While sex without intimacy is all kinds of fun while it is happening, the aftermath is surprisingly depressing. Don't get me wrong, though. I would gladly have suffered the depression by registering for several more such seminars if my dream had lasted longer -- and had not gone in the wrong direction. It's just that I would prefer to have a dream encounter with a woman I love, even if I am not exactly sure who she was once I wake up.

Brief, Seemingly Irrelevant Departure from the Dream Story

This past Friday evening I watched "Dateline NBC" (normally, I cannot stand watching that sort of program). The story revolved around five or six people who were determined to lose weight before they went to their high-school reunion. When they finally attended the reunion, many months later and many pounds lighter, they all sat at a table together and were admired by all of their old classmates. I'm definitely not overweight, but I enjoyed the show, nonetheless.

Back to the Dream Story

While I was "inspecting" yet another naked female seminar attendee :-), a third naked woman began styling my hair. I remember the instructor explaining in the background that this was part of what we were supposed to experience. I certainly wasn't fond of the idea, and, if I had not been distracted by all those wonderful naked women, I would have had the presence of mind to make her stop. [Question: What the hell kind of a meaningless twist is this to have in a sex dream, anyway?]

Just as my naked "beautician" was half finished with my hair (so that I resembled a cross between Cosmo Kramer and Brittany Spears), and just as I was beginning to analyze more thoroughly the intricacies of the female specimen in front of me, the dream switched locations. Suddenly, all of us sex-seminar attendees were sitting together at MY high-school reunion! We were on display for everyone to see (although, thankfully -- and oddly enough, considering it was a dream -- we had our clothes on)! But I still had that ridiculous, half-finished hair style!

Why?!!

It was bad enough that all those wonderfully naked women were now clothed and back to normal, but this new situation only added insult to injury.

At first, I walked around the back of the room, embarrassed beyond words that my old classmates would be thinking all sorts of untrue things about me, so I avoided eye contact with them. I kept wanting to run out of the building and head for the hills, but I couldn't make myself do it (typical dream behavior, eh?). The other seminar attendees seemed not to be bothered by these new circumstances at all. Of course, this wasn't their reunion, so what did they care?

I felt completely trapped in this dream, which is unusual for me, because I am usually conscious enough to realize when I am dreaming. This awareness frequently allows me to wake myself up from bad dreams that are clearly unrealistic. This dream wasn't unrealistic enough, though (in other words, no monsters or other scary beings to make me skeptical of the reality of the situation), so it took a short while longer for me to break free and wake up. When I did, I was incredibly relieved that the reunion had not been real.

A Slightly Tangential Conclusion

While writing this entry, I had a wild idea for the future: When is Apple going to invent the "iDreamPod"? In using such a device, we would be able to select a different series of dreams every night from a large dream library, clamp the "electrode buds" onto our temples and drift off... We could even create customized "dreamlists." Apple would be so confident of their device's abilities that they would offer a 100% money-back guarantee to any dreamer whose dream is hijacked by his own obnoxious subconscious, or who wakes up before his or her dream session is finished (with exceptions for real-world interruptions, such as spouses elbowing you in the eye, phone calls, natural disasters, alarm clocks, etc.). In fact, people could even get on the internet and share homemade personal dream files with one another (but NOT anonymously!). Naturally, the new professional dream-making industry would also get in on the act by selling a wide variety of professionally produced dreams via Apple's online iDreams Store. A weekly "Top-40 Dreams" list would be prominently advertised. In the tradition of yoga and meditation, certain "new age" dreamlists could even be used to instill a sense of peace, well being and/or purpose in people who need that sort of nightly boost.

Wouldn't that be fun?

Furthermore, with Apple in charge, there would also be no fear (at least among Macintosh users) that malicious hackers would ever succeed in hijacking our dreams with something like "Bride of Chucky" or "Freddy Kruger" dream viruses.

Remember, you heard it here first, folks. Those of you who know my real identity will vouch for me if some thief tries to steal my idea. Right? :-)

Sincerely, MJW (YouNameIt)

I've Been Tagged!

Would you believe me if I said that Clarity tagged me? Well, she did! She must have 267 people in her favorites, yet she tagged the likes of me! I'm hon... Oh, no! Wait! This is bad. Now I have to reveal my excessively eclectic musical tastes to the world. I guess that means I've been honored and "exposed" at the same time. Soon, you'll all know why I tried to keep my tastes a secret. Thanks a lot, Clarity. :-)

Believe it or not, I've been debating on whether or not to do another music survey for the past week, but I couldn't make up my mind. Now, since being tagged, I have decided to include both surveys in the same entry, so you can get a more complete picture of my musical tastes (which still amounts to only 10 percent of my overall tastes).

Clarity's forwarded survey comes first. I encourage her and everyone else to do the second one, if you are of a mind to do so. Based on a Google search, the second survey appears to have been making the rounds of DiaryLand and other journal sites. I simply cannot remember who I got it from, though (I found it while eavesdropping on strange DiaryLanders that I don't know).

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Survey Number One

1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?

My iTunes counter says "575," but I have a few more songs that are not listed in iTunes; therefore, I don't know the exact number (less than 600, though).

2. The last CD you bought is?

I believe it was Leo Kottke's Dreams and All That Stuff (1974).

3. What is the last song you listened to?

An oldies instrumental that I can only categorize as a combination of rock, folk, jazz, bluegrass, New Orleans funeral blues and lighthearted pop. It's title is Washington Square by The Village Stompers (a No. 2 hit in November 1963). I had heard this song a few times over the years on oldies stations, and I absolutely loved it (I'm a nut for certain types of instrumental music). I just found a copy of it the other day, so the "newness" has not yet worn off (and it never will). It's one of those "dance-around-the-house-when-no-one-is-looking" songs, or at least it is for me. I do this in a subdued, mature manner, of course. :-)

After writing the previous paragraph, I looked in the book, Billboard's Top Pop Singles, 1955-1993, by Joel Whitburn. He says of The Village Stompers: "Greenwich, New York Dixieland-styled band." That partially explains the eclectic nature of their "sound." If you click on the links, you can read what others have said about The Village Stompers. I only went there after writing this section, so it was a pleasure to see that I am not alone in my opinion. The group was much more than just a pop-fluff band.

4. Five songs you listen to a lot or mean a lot to you?

I don't like listening to the same songs over and over. My brother used to do that when we were growing up, and it drove me crazy; although lately, with the convenience of iTunes, I'm starting to listen to certain songs on a more regular basis than would previously have been the case. As for songs that mean a lot to me, there are so many, and they all fit into different categories, so I cannot designate any five above any other five -- at least not without picking arbitrarily; but I'm going to do so anyway, "for the sake of this survey."

The following songs mean a lot to me both philosophically and emotionally. Four of them are oldies because the musical world seems to have abandoned me in recent years; or maybe I've abandoned it...? Nah, it abandoned me. :-) These songs are extremely random (and in no order) and could easily be replaced by any combination of other songs.

1.) "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas (1978) - One of the ultimate philosophical songs. I don't listen to it a lot though (even by my strict standards), because I have to be in the perfect mood to appreciate it fully. Those of you with degrees in English might be interested to know that one or more of the members of Kansas received their degrees in English before forming the band, hence the excellent lyrics.

2.) Louise by Leo Kottke (1972) - No Kottke song has ever been released as a single. You have to listen to his albums to hear his music. Kottke's deep voice may or may not be an acquired taste (he's chiefly an instrumentalist), but it doesn't take very long if you are willing to try, and it is definitely worth the effort (but not in every case). "Louise" and "Tiny Island," both of which are found on the excellent Greenhouse album, are just indescribably addictive (at least to me). It took me a while to become addicted to them, but I'm very glad I did. Click on his linked name to read the very long list of cities on his present concert tour. He still has millions of dedicated fans.

3.) Midnight in Moscow by Kenny Ball and His Jazzmen (1962) - If I had listed these songs in order with my favorite of the five in the No. 1 spot, this would probably be it. "Midnight In Moscow" is very much like "Washington Square" (see question 3 above). For me, this is one of the greatest feel-good songs of all time. [After clicking on the link, Read Steve Rumley's customer review. It's the third one in the list. He describes the song and the group perfectly.]

4.) Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer (1998) - filled with uncharacteristically poetic lyrics, as well as a "happy" sound, that has been almost nonexistent in the music world in recent years.

5.) Same Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg (1981) - This song was playing on the radio once as I neared the town where my Iranian girlfriend and I had found one another -- and where she was unexpectedly living again. Our relationship had ended a few months earlier, and the final lines of this song almost got the better of me as I approached the city limits. No song has ever done that to me before or since.

5. Who are you going to pass this stick to? and why?

"Stick"? Why is it called a stick?

Since my list of favorites is too short to pick and choose, I will simply "tag" everyone therein who has not already done it.

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Survey Number Two

1. A song whose lyrics you thought you knew in the past, but about which you later learned you were incorrect.

There are several such songs, and I cannot think of any of them at this time. However, just to throw something out there, how about 99 Luft Balloons by Nena (1983) (the German version)? Hahahahahaha

2. Your least favorite song on one of your favorite albums of all time.

This question is too strange. I don't have any idea.

3. A song you like by someone you find physically unattractive or otherwise repellent.

I'll pass on this one, because, with my luck, the person I named would probably some day accidentally click on this entry. If you've read my One in a Billion entry, you would agree that the prudent thing for a person with my luck to do is to say nothing. Ha? Ha?

4. Your favorite song with the name of a city in the title or text.

Another oldie: The City of New Orleans by Arlo Guthrie (1972).

5. A song you've listened to repeatedly when you were depressed at some point in your life.

It is amazing how this answer took on a life of its own, and I even deleted a bunch of it.

As I say in the first survey, I cannot stand listening to any song repeatedly, unless I am bound and determined to make myself hate it (and why would I ever want to do that?). A couple of years ago, during a particularly bad period of time, I listened to a relatively small selection of songs (by a variety of artists) over and over (this was when I first started grasping the significance of iTunes and mp3s); however, Leo Kottke's "Greenhouse" album (1972) is particularly well suited to repeated listening, although no more than a few times in a given month. If you are into acoustic-guitar solos by one of the greatest guitarists on earth, then this is the album for you.

That bad period of time was also when I developed a taste for some of the more obscure oldies that are referred to in some parts of this entry. By about 2001-2002, I had grown sick to death of listening to the same "Top 40" and "alternative" music every day. I could go on and on about why this is so, but I don't want to do that (at least not in this entry). I also can no longer stand listening to the same 200 or 500 stereotypical oldies songs that are played in an endless loop on most automated "oldies" stations. Those songs have long since lost any meaning or feeling that they may have had; so there is no escape there either.

YET I LOVE MUSIC PASSIONATELY. In fact, I need music. So what was I to do? I had no idea. Then, one day after having heard an obscure and beautiful oldie on an internet radio station (I think that was the case), I decided I would search for as many songs as I could find that fit that category. They would have to be songs that I had heard very few times in my life. That way, they would be both "new" and different, and I could then be excited about music again. At the same time, and seemingly contradictorily, these songs also had to have a certain feeling of nostalgia about them, and a certain "clarity of sound" (for lack of a better term). It has been a lot of fun researching and finding these old songs, which is no easy task since I don't always know the names of the songs or the artists that I am searching for. I love doing investigative work, though.

Has it worked to focus my attention on obscure oldies? Definitely. Can't you tell?

Finally, now that I have rambled on for four paragraphs, I have suddenly remembered one song that I used to listen to almost on a nightly basis: The Great Wheel by James Asher (1989). I always listened to it when I went to bed, especially if I my mind was racing, and I couldn't get to sleep. This is one of the few songs that I can listen to it over and over because it is not a typical song. Instead, it is a 30-minute-long, soft instrumental that is intentionally designed for relaxation (no, it's not one of those ridiculous "crickets-and-birds-chirping-above-the-peaceful-ocean-surf productions -- gag!). It may not suit everyone's tastes, though.

6. Ever buy an entire album just for one song and wind up disliking everything but that song? Gimme that song.

Oh, yes. Many times. Luckily, though, I bought most of my music collection in second-hand stores, so I never lost too much money when I made such mistakes. One example: Several years ago, I bought Duane Eddy's Greatest Hits for a dollar or two. Eddy became famous for his excellent 1958 hit, "Rebel Rouser" (a rock-guitar instrumental). How could I possibly go wrong buying an album full of his best songs? Well, I definitely went wrong. I didn't like any of the other songs, not even one and not even a little bit.

7. Your favorite song that has expletives in it that's not by Liz Phair. 

Cinderella by Firefall (1977). - An absolutely beautiful song, though. But it is merely a favorite song, not my only favorite.

8. A song that sounds as if it's by someone British but isn't.

No idea. What kind of silly question is this?

9. A song you like (possibly from your past) that took you forever to finally locate a copy of.

Twisting By the Pool - Dire Straits (1983) - I couldn't find it anywhere. Finally, about a year ago my oddball neighbor (a member of a local rock band) threw out a whole bunch of albums because he was moving. I found them shortly thereafter in our shared dumpster when I was emptying my own garbage. In order not to look like an indigent, I waited until dark and then went out to the dumpster and "rescued" them. :-) The album containing "Twisting by the Pool" was in the collection.

10. A song that reminds you of spring but doesn't mention spring at all.

Hands down, without a doubt: Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra (1978), the unedited version. - This is one of the greatest "feel-good" songs of all time. Some of the lyrics go as follows: "Mornin'! Today's forecast calls for blue skies. -- Sun is shinin' in the sky. There ain't a cloud in sight. It's stopped rainin'. Everybody's in the play, and don't you know, it's a beautiful new day..."

I highly, highly recommend it to anyone who wants to celebrate life for a few minutes. Even if you hate life, you will be unable to resist celebrating it while this song is playing.

11. A song that sounds to you like being happy feels.

Once again, "Mr. Blue Sky." However, if you need another one: Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer (1998). That song is almost in a tie with "Mr. Blue Sky" in this category. Actually, I could name quite a few songs.

12. Your favorite song from a non-soundtrack compilation album.

This is the kind of question that I can imagine was written by a college student with an overly analytical mind, who foolishly stayed home one Saturday night to write this survey instead of going to the bar. :-)

13. A song from your past that would be considered politically incorrect now (and possibly was then).

Once again: "Cinderella" by Firefall (1977).

14. A song sung by an overweight person. White Sandy Beach by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, a Hawaiian singer (now deceased) - A friend of mine from Oklahoma loaned me one of his CDs just last night, thinking that I would like it as much as she does. I told her not to hold her breath. I like "White Sandy Beach" a lot, but the rest of it is as bad as I had imagined.

15. A song you actually like by an artist you otherwise hate.

This is just random: Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Poison (1988). I don't really hate Poison, though; I'm just not into their music.

16. A song by a band (whose members actually play instruments) that features three or more female members.

Walk Like an Egyptian by the Bangles (1986) - I assume they actually played their own instruments.

17. One of the earliest songs that you can remember listening to.

This would be one of those obscure oldies: "Love Is Blue" by Paul Mauriat (1968). According to Billboard Magazine, it was number one for five weeks that year. When I was about seven years old (a rough guess), I remember hearing it on the radio as we were driving from South Dakota to Missouri to visit relatives. I immediately loved it and lay down in the back seat and just disappeared into it. I had no idea what its name was at the time, but I never forgot that sound. I heard it very few times after that. Many years later, in college, I bought a nine-volume compilation album. Imagine my delight when I discovered that song in the collection. That might have been the first time I learned its name, too.

18. A song you've been mocked by friends for liking.

Not fully mocked; they were just surprised that I liked it: Bathwater by No Doubt (2000). - I cannot listen to that song anymore, though, because it gets stuck in my head for days afterwards. The same thing (being mocked) would probably have been true of Ugly Girl by Fleming and John (1999), but no one I know has ever heard it. I cannot listen to it anymore either, because it also gets stuck in my head.

19. A really good cover version you think no one else has heard.

Wonderland By Night" by Leo Kottke (1994). It is a cover of Bert Kaempfert's 1960 hit of the same name. Kaempfert's original was number one on the charts for three weeks in 1961 (according to Billboard). I love both versions.

20. A song that has helped cheer you up (or empowered you somehow) after a breakup or otherwise difficult situation.

There are quite a few such songs, actually, many of which are listed in this survey.

21. What was the last song you downloaded?

Live version of Seven Bridges Road by The Eagles (1980). - The most perfectly synchronized harmonies I have ever heard.

22.(a) An album you love that is flawless from start to finish (in other words no song skipping necessary)?

"Greenhouse" by Leo Kottke (1972).

22.(b) The song that made you get the album in that first place? No particular song. I got it because I had heard another Kottke album playing in a local music store. I asked the manager for the name of the artist and the album. I never bought that album though. A couple of years later, when I found "Greenhouse" in a store in another town, I debated for a month or two before buying it. I seldom ever throw caution to the wind and buy an album "sound unheard," but I kept remembering how much I had liked Kottke's other album. So I bought it and have been a huge fan ever since.

23. Give me the song title which you think best describes who you actually are. Explain

"Reality, What a Concept" by Robin Williams (1979) - Actually, that's a comedy album title, not a song title, but it sure fits my way of thinking. Haha. No, really, it does!

24. Now give me the song title which you think best describes your personality. Explain.

No. 24 is a distinction without a difference from No. 23, but: "My Feet Are Smiling" by Leo Kottke (1973) - Why? Just cuz... :-)

25. Quick – your favorite clever song lyric!

Lyrics from The Girl from Ipanema by Stan Getz and Astrud Gilberto (1963):

Tall and tan and young and lovely,
The girl from Ipanema goes walking,
And when she passes, each one she passes goes, 'Ahhhhhhhh.'
When she walks, she's like a samba
That swings so cool and sways so gently
That when she passes, each one she passes goes, 'Ahhhhhhhh.'"

26. A romantic song that is NOT cheesy & your favorite lyric from that song.

"Cheesy" is a very subjective term. I will, therefore, pick a song with beautiful lyrics and hope they aren't "cheesy." I acquired "Stardust" by accident a about two or three years ago (if I remember correctly). I didn't know what it was, but I immediately fell in love with it. The lyrics are far more beautiful when accompanied by the music.

Lyrics from Stardust by Nat King Cole (1957):

And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb

Always reminding me that we're apart

You wandered down the lane and far away

Leaving me a song that will not die

Love is now the stardust of yesterday

The music of the years gone by

Sometimes I wonder why I spend

The lonely night dreaming of a song

The melody haunts my reverie

And I am once again with you

When our love was new

And each kiss an inspiration

But that was long ago

Now my consolation

Is in the stardust of a song

Beside a garden wall

When stars are bright

You are in my arms

The nightingale tells his fairy tale

A paradise where roses bloom

Though I dream in vain

In my heart it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love's refrain

UPDATE: Greg Dragon (YouTube commenter, ca. 2014): "I'm thinking that heaven has Nat King continuously singing Stardust over the intercom."

Your Life Colors

A few weeks ago I found one of those online "personality" tests that many DiaryLanders like. This one is called Your Life Colors. It is somewhat similar to one that Clarity25 mentions in a recent entry. I think those of you who read my diary would enjoy taking it (it is free).

My results are as follows. I make comments in brackets regarding the accuracy of each section of the test:

"You scored mainly in the Water-Sky quadrant. This 'Blue' quadrant highlights the water sign of your personality and your tendency to be cool and free-flowing in most circumstances." [MW comments: This is very true, but I am often too "free-flowing." Why? Because I hate the stereotypical serious adult personality. Life is too short to treat every moment like it is serious business (as for "depressing" business? Well, that's another matter :-). And yet, I even try to laugh when it is depressing).]

"Water from the sky provides the necessary resources for growth, and this is a feature of your approach to life. You will enjoy the freshness of new ideas and actively seek these out, either by talking to others or by reading." [MW comments: One hundred fifty-seven percent true, although it has suffered somewhat lately, due to the toppling of so many of life's dominoes, all in the wrong direction, and all at the same time.]

"People who map into this quadrant will enjoy examining problems or making discoveries. Consequently, you may sometimes tend to take your time in coming to decisions which affect your day-to-day life." [MW comments: This characteristic has shaped my destiny more than most.] "If there are any uncertainties, your natural reaction will be to postpone things until you are sure." [MW comments: I have been doing this for quite some time lately, as I take a detour around those fallen dominoes and try to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. What sort of job/career might I enter that will not make life feel like a meaningless chore forevermore?]

"You are unlikely to enjoy conflict situations which, more than likely, will create stress for you." [MW comments: Absolutely true again, unless the conflict involves politics, which I love to argue about. Aside from that, though, I cannot stand being anywhere near conflict, even if it doesn't involve me. I even hate watching it on TV (in those embarrassingly stupid "reality" shows) because it reveals the really low-rent, ugly side of life.] "In these circumstances you may well be a 'worrier' and this could affect your health." [MW comments: I'm not so sure about this. I definitely feel excessive amounts of stress during and after conflicts, but I seldom worry about the cause of the conflict; although I may occasionally worry about the results of the conflict.] "As a result, you will usually move to defuse any potential conflicts well before they occur." [MW comments: Absolutely true, which sometimes backfires. I'm sure most of you have seen shows like Tru Calling and Early Edition, where the main characters know what is going to happen before it happens. When said characters try to change the course of history so that certain events don't happen, they instead cause new conflicts to arise. That's me, at least when it comes to sensing approaching conflict. :-)]

"You will be a considerate person and choose your words carefully so that you don't upset others." [MW comments: This is another rule that I follow religiously, although, when I screw up, it is usually on a scale that cannot be measured by even the most sophisticated human technology. Read this entry to see what I mean.]

"Sometimes however, you may be so subtle that people don't realize what you are feeling about a particular issue. You may need to check that people fully understand your views and incorporate these into their decision making." [MW comments: This is true too, but it is the result of having been made fun of so much back in grade school (and again in high school) when I was "the new kid in town" (why do kids like to do that to "new kids," anyway?) I was a bit innocent (or naive) as a fourth grader, when my family moved to a small town (less that 400 people), where the kids swore (I couldn't believe my ears the first time I heard a kid my age use a swear word), were very obnoxious, "knew everything" about sex, and had great senses of humor. I was made fun of constantly for being so innocent, and for having a less-than-funny sense of humor. I eventually learned that it was wisest not to say anything without first determining if it was or was not something that would cause kids to make fun of me. By the time I had reached high school (and was definitely no longer naive), then college (where I worked very hard on improving my sense of humor), I had become a very subtle person in more than a few ways, but usually only when participating in conversations with large groups of people. I am sometimes so subtle, in fact, that I am not even heard. On more than a few occasions, I remember that I would say the same "funny" thing in several different gatherings, but no one would laugh or even react, even though I personally thought I had said something that was worth laughing at :-). Finally, in the fifth or sixth gathering (for example), I would repeat it again, if the conversation was relevant to my statement, and someone would finally hear me and begin laughing hysterically. Just the validation and ego boost I was looking for.]

"Being a sky person, you may well have a strong imagination which causes you to fantasize about the future." [MW comments: One of these days, I may publish portions of my unfinished novels and short stories here (but don't hold your breath). Then you can read my "fantasies" for yourselves. Where did my fantasizing come from? I used to theorize that my body was able to synthesize its own hallucinogenic drugs, which would then flow, in timed-release fashion, through my blood stream and into my brain. :-) It was at those times, thankfully, that my desire to write was the strongest. Regrettably, due to those recently toppled dominoes, I am very rarely able to fantasize about the future anymore. Needless to say, I am a bit annoyed by that.]

"Future possibilities interest you greatly whereas the past is something you can readily put behind you." [MW comments: Nope, just the opposite is true now. Even in the past (no pun intended), I was not able to put the past behind me (that may be one of the reasons that I have a degree in history, and it is also why I love well written time-travel stories). However, there once was a time when I had a completely equal passion for both the future and the past.]

"However, be careful that you don't live too much in the future. There are the realities of day-to-day living to think about." [MW comments: OK, when the survey says it this way, it may have a point. I certainly am "taking my time in coming to decisions which affect my day-to-day life," as it says above. I am well aware of the fine line between being patient and waiting too long. That is what has been bothering me the most lately, especially while waiting for a reply from the South Dakota State Historical Society, where I recently applied for an archivist's position. At the end of a forty-minute phone interview, the State Archivist said the person selected would hear the announcement within a week. It has now been three weeks, and I haven't heard a word. I'm pretty sure that means I didn't get the job. Oh well. At least I tried.]

A Billion to One

I read this entry several times (and rewrote it several times) before uploading it, and yet I got an incredibly queasy feeling every single time.

The odds must have been about a billion to one that I would experience the most embarrassing episode in my life on a desolate highway thirty miles from the nearest town in "remote" western Nebraska (or anywhere else, for that matter).

But I did.

How do I come up with such astronomical odds, which I am convinced are not an exaggeration? Read on:

A few years ago, a man here in western Nebraska tried to recruit me to sell Amway products. There was no way on earth that he was going to get me into that line of work. No way. No way. No way.

Holding true to the Amway stereotype, the guy wouldn't quit trying to recruit me, and I kept refusing with as much bluntness as possible, without being rude. After some further back and forth, he finally said something that caught my attention. He told me that he and some others would be going to an Amway seminar in Rapid City, SD, in a few days and that I was welcome to ride along. As I say, I was not interested in becoming an Amway "disciple," but I was definitely interested in getting a free ride to Rapid City (yes, my life was that boring). I agreed to go along, but I warned him that I still had no intention of joining Amway. He was convinced that he had a new brainwashee, and I was convinced I was going to get a free ride to my home state.

A few days later, we departed on the four-hour drive to Rapid City. Besides me, there were four others in the car. They consisted of the driver (age 55), who was the owner of a local jewelry store. Next came the man who was trying to recruit me (about age 35). He just happened to be the general manager of one of the local TV stations. With him was his wife (also about age 35). Finally, there was a man (age between 35 and 45) who was a low-level employee at the same TV station. This employee, like me, was also a potential Amway recruit. I'll call him Joe since I don't remember his real name. The others don't need names. By the way, I was 30 years old at the time.

I rode in the front passenger seat, while the general manager, his wife and Joe rode in the back (they must have been trying to butter me up by giving me the best seat). All four of these people were total strangers to me, and I felt very out of place, especially since I was going to participate in something that was a total turnoff for me. I was starting to regret my decision to go along.

The five of us visited about various nothings as we drove out of town. I soon learned that Joe (the other "recruit") was a native of New York City. I was amazed that he had ended up at one of our two little TV stations in western Nebraska. I believe I asked him how he managed to end up here, but I no longer remember his answer.

About thirty miles out of town, in the middle of nowhere, the jewelry-store owner started talking about the barbershop quartet to which he belonged. I'm definitely not a singer and definitely not a fan of barbershop quartets, so I stayed out of that boring conversation -- for a while. As they were discussing possible songs to sing at future events, a totally random thought entered my mind -- random, that is, according to the laws of everyday mundane reality, but fated according to the laws of the universe. It was a song that I thought might sound good as sung in the four-part harmony of a barbershop quartet. During a brief pause in the conversation, I told them that the song High 'n' Dry, by Black Oak Arkansas (1973), might be perfect for them.

Why I thought of that particular song, out of the thousands of songs I could have thought of, I don't know. It was a certainty, though, that no barbershop quartet had ever sung it before. I knew it was a silly notion even as I said it, and I knew that he would never listen to me; however, I was just trying to make conversation with these strangers and maybe even introduce something unique into the annals of barbershop-quartet history.

The reader should know that High 'n' Dry is the only soft song on an album filled with exceptionally hard and loud rock songs, most of which have a grating edge to them. I have never been a big fan of exceptionally hard rock, and I figured a 60-year-old jewelry-store owner would be even less of a fan. Therefore, just in case he had heard of Black Oak Arkansas and was ready to dismiss me as a kook, I added an editorial comment to my suggestion. Basically, my entire statement went as follows:

"I know the perfect song for your quartet. It's called High 'n' Dry by Black Oak Arkansas."

Then, after only the briefest of pauses, and with way too much emphasis, I added, "Everything else they sing STINKS, but that song is absolutely great."

This seems to be a good place to let the reader know that Black Oak Arkansas was formed in Arkansas (as one might guess) in the late 1960s.

As my utterance of the word, "stinks," was still ringing in the air, I noted an immediate and uncomfortable silence. No one looked at me or spoke a single word as we raced along that remote highway on the wide-open prairies of western Nebraska. I could tell immediately that this wasn't a normal silence, and instinct -- or, rather, ESP -- caused me to start feeling embarrassed, even though I had no idea why. Was my suggestion of a song by a hard-rock group that bad? Or had I been too crude in my use of the word "stinks"? The silence continued, and it was beginning to generate a distinctly uncomfortable quality throughout the vehicle, or so it seemed to my overactive mind. I was growing confused and embarrassed, fearing that I had, indeed, said something terribly wrong; however, I still had no idea what exactly it may have been. I could feel my face starting to turn red. I turned around and looked at the man from New York City, as well as at the general manager and his wife.

After some more silence, I finally said something to the general manager. I can no longer remember what I said, though, because his reply has blotted it from my memory forever. I may have commented to him, in an extremely roundabout way, about their odd lack of a response to my suggestion. That is the only thing that makes sense now, considering his reply.

He pointed at Joe and said very uncomfortably to me, "Joe was a member of Black Oak Arkansas."

I should just stop right there and let you imagine how I felt, but that wouldn't be right. I wish I could find the right words, but I cannot.

Suffice it to say that the interior of the car started to spin as the blood drained from my head. I think I went into shock because I couldn't feel my body anymore. I couldn't see straight, as I tried to look at Joe (who was originally from NEW YORK CITY!!!!!!!!!!! NOT [Blank]ING ARKANSAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and tried to converse with him normally, as if I had said nothing at all; but my voice wasn't working, and my neck refused to hold my head steady. I kept thinking that everyone must surely see it wobbling. I thought about trying to hold it still, but I feared I would overcompensate, like a drunk trying to walk straight, and it would then tip in the other direction.

I may have said to "Joe," with as much fan-like awe as I could muster, and in spite of the absence of all oxygen in my body and most muscle control in my lips, "Really? You were? Wow!"

I knew it was too late to explain that I hadn't really meant it like that, because, no matter how well I explained it, it would sound like a lie. I had said it with way too much emphasis.

We drove along in terrible silence for a while, during which I stared across the back seat, past Joe and out the side window. I couldn't look him (or anyone) in the face, but I wanted to "emit" feelings of "sincerest apologies" by looking in Joe's general direction as often as possible. After a sufficient amount of time had passed, I said, in general, to everyone (this is a very, very rough paraphrase), "You know, I really put my foot in my mouth. There's a reason I said that the way I did, but I don't think anyone is ever going to believe me now. I honestly didn't mean it the way it sounded."

Much to Joe's credit, he tried to ease my guilt. He said, "I only joined the band in their later years. I'm not an original member of the group."

That didn't make me feel better at all because he had obviously chosen to join that particular band because he liked their music (music which I had just said "STINKS"). All the rest of that long, long night, while in the car, then in the seminar and later at a Perkin's Restaurant in Rapid City, I visited with Joe like there was no tomorrow. I tried to apologize for my comment several times without overdoing it, because I was driven by a guilt such as I had never experienced before. He continued to tell me not to worry about it, and he really seemed to mean it. He was a sincerely nice person, and once I dropped the subject, we had a good time discussing other topics (in fact, during the seminar, we had both had fun whispering obnoxious comments and jokes to one another about the various Amway speakers). I still felt like the lowest form of life on earth.

In conclusion, picture the scene: The vast plains of western Nebraska, 30 miles from the nearest town, 1,000 miles from Arkansas, 1,500 miles from New York City, in a car heading to an Amway seminar in South Dakota with four total strangers, talking about barbershop quartets, and I had managed to pick, and then insult, the one band, out of the tens of thousands of bands on earth, that had a former member right there in the car with me.

Final Note 1.) In spite of this horrible incident, High 'n' Dry remains one of my very favorite "feel-good" songs of all time.

Final Note 2.) Oh, yeah..., and I never joined Amway either.

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[Just Because - SF - 2016]

"Less Wordy" Instructions

OK, these revised instructions are for two of my favorite diarists, as well as for anyone else who may have had trouble with my somewhat convoluted instructions in the last entry (I admit, after rereading them, that I could have done a better job of writing them). I guess many local bar flies should be thankful that I'm not employed as a professional "Twister" announcer in their favorite bar. "Oh, what a tangled mass of people we weave, when first we practice..." :-) Speaking of which, my female partner and I got third place in one of those contests once. For someone who is not an exhibitionist (me, in other words), it was a very "exhibitionist-like" experience to be in those risqué positions in front of a huge cheering audience (at least I think they were cheering).

On the off chance that I didn't take DangerSpouse's * note * with a large enough grain of salt, and he really did do this experiment right, I apologize in advance for explaining it to him again. But since I was unable to determine what results he really got, I must assume the worst. Ha.

I must assure all readers, though, that this really does work. The results will definitely cause speculation and conversation, even if it is for only five minutes.

For those of you who have not read my January 2, entry, please read it before reading the rest of this one, even though I cannot tell you what possible good that will do. Well..., maybe you might enjoy reading everything in it except the actual instructions.

Since I really am not too good at writing certain types of instructions, I will make this revision simpler than it really needs to be. Please do not take these simplified instructions as a reflection of my opinion of your comprehension skills (I wouldn't be reading your diaries if I thought you were clueless people :-). Besides, Clarity25, you're ill! If a single blanket thread can cause your mind to do a minor somersault, then I can imagine what my convoluted instructions must have been like to read, especially if your room was spinning at the time!

Now, on with the...

"Less Wordy" Instructions

(By "Less wordy" I mean in quality, not in quantity.)

Step One

Have at the ready a single fruit or vegetable item (apple, orange, banana, watermelon, tomato, potato, etc. -- OK, not the watermelon :-).

Step Two

Have the person who is playing the part of the Guinea pig, stand with BOTH ARMS out to his (or her) side at shoulder level (yes, BOTH ARMS), so that he is forming a perfect letter "T" (or a small "t" if you wish to count the person's head in this graphic representation).

Step Three

The person who is experimenting on the Guinea pig will then put a single fruit or vegetable item in the Guinea pig's LEFT hand.

Step Four

The Guinea pig will take his LEFT hand, which is now holding that fruit or vegetable, and place it at the center of his chest, so that the fruit or vegetable is touching the hollow at the center of his chest. The Guinea pig's right arm must remain out to his side at shoulder level the whole time.

Step Five

The person conducting the experiment will then try to force the Guinea pig's EXTENDED RIGHT ARM downward, while the Guinea pig tries to resist. Continue applying pressure for two or three seconds. If the experimenter "wins," then more power to her. On the other hand, if the Guinea pig successfully resists your attempts to lower his arm, then more power to him. Remember, this isn't really a contest.

Step Six

The Guinea pig will hand the fruit or vegetable item back to the experimenter. The experimenter will then grab the alcoholic beverage and put it in the Guinea pig's LEFT hand. During this transfer, the Guinea pig is welcome to lower his extended right arm momentarily, if he wishes to do so.

Step Seven

The Guinea pig will then place his LEFT hand, which now contains the alcoholic beverage, at the center of his chest, exactly as he did with the fruit, so that it is touching the hollow at the center of his chest. He must once again extend his right arm out to his side at shoulder level.

Step Eight

The experimenter will once again try to force the Guinea pig's right arm down, using the same amount of pressure as he did the first time. The Guinea pig will, once again, try to resist. This is no joke. It really works. You can do your best to alter the results -- without cheating -- but you will not be able to do so.

Alcohol vs. Fruit; Your Body Is Psychic

When I was in college, I learned this "new-age" sort of trick (actually, it's not a trick, but I cannot think of a better word at the moment) from a good friend who worked in a liquor store next door to my apartment (if his boss had only known how much free booze -- Beefeater's gin, etc. -- that he gave me to help me ward off the effects of that painful love affair..., well). In fact, he taught me this "trick" right there in the store one Friday or Saturday evening when I stopped in to visit. Try it on an unsuspecting friend (or spouse).

Note: I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter if the friend/spouse has been drinking or not.
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Step 1: Get: A.) a bottle or can of alcohol (either beer or hard liquor will do) and B.) some sort of fruit or vegetable (apple, orange, potato, tomato).

Step 2: Have your friend hold the fruit directly against the hollow at the center of her (or his) chest with one hand. At the same time, have her stretch the other arm out sideways, exactly at shoulder level (so that her body is forming half of the letter T).

Step 3: You then put your arm (doesn't matter which arm) on top of your friend's outstretched arm, directly over the wrist area. Tell your friend to try to hold her arm in place while you try to force it down. Don't go crazy trying to force it down. Just apply a steady and relatively strong force (no sudden lunges, or anything like that). The goal isn't really for you to beat your friend at this game. You are simply gauging her strength. Apply this pressure for only two or three seconds.

Step 4: Now have your friend switch the fruit with the bottle of beer or liquor (holding it in the very same spot), and then try to force her arm down again. Be sure to use EXACTLY the same amount of pressure that you used the first time.

Please let me know the results.

P.S. Be sure to use the fruit first, or the results will be less apparent. If you don't trust the results, try it in different ways.

The New Year: Changing a 4 to a 5... Wow...

Before reading this entry, please be sure to read the previous entry.

Date: Friday, December 31, 2004 11:53:15 PM

Topic: The New Year: Changing a 4 to a 5... Wow...

What a let down. The alcohol did nothing for me, except to prove to me, once and for all, that it is a waste of time and money (at least for me). It caused me to utter funny comments for about twenty minutes (I can be pretty entertaining when under the influence). After the funniness wore off, I just talked A LOT (which is code for TOO MUCH).

It didn't make me feel better, except that I know I can relax and enjoy living without it from now on.

The effects have already worn off.

It is now fifteen seconds away from the new year here in western Nebraska. ....... Now 10.... now... 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gosh. :-)

I feel different already.

Now what am I gonna do...?

I hate New Year's Eve.

:-/ :-\ :-| :-)

Breaking an Alcohol "Fast"

Well, it's New Year's Eve in the western hemisphere. I have been invited to a party up the street, which is set to start in 18 minutes. It will be my first New Year's Eve party in years. I have been invited to New Year's Eve parties almost every year in the past several years, but I was never in the mood to go, probably because I wasn't excited about sitting around with the same group of married people, and also because I just wasn't interested in celebrating the passage of time (whoever thought that would be a fun thing to celebrate, anyway?). Tonight, the party is in a different town and with a different group of people. Most of them are married, too, but I really like the people hosting the party, so I'm going to go.

One of the requirements, according to the woman of the house (who has been a close friend of mine for years) is that I must drink alcoholic beverages. Having been a bartender for several years in earlier times, I would normally have no problem with that; however, it has been fourteen months since I last drank any alcohol, and I am starting to enjoy life without it (not enough to actually quit forever, though).

Don't misunderstand me: I didn't stop drinking last year because I have a problem. I've never had a problem. I just quit because it was becoming too easy to rely on it while I was living the life of a single hermit on a desolate ranch in desolate Wyoming last year. There was absolutely nothing to do there but write on my computer (no internet), watch two pitiful (sickeningly pitiful) TV channels, and drink. To make matters worse, the alcohol was no longer having much of an effect on me because I had built up an immunity to it (but the headaches still arrived on time). That meant I was wasting my money.

So I stopped.

I promised myself that I would start drinking again after the passage of one year, or after a certain situation had been concluded, whichever came first. Well, I moved off of the ranch two months after I quit drinking, but the "situation" didn't conclude itself until this month -- eight f*****g months late! Being a somewhat stubborn person when it comes to keeping promises to myself, I continued to avoid alcohol after the original deadline had passed. I continued to wait for a year to go by. When the one-year anniversary finally arrived in early November, I was ready to open a bottle of cheap champagne that I had been saving for a year.

But I couldn't do it! Regrettably (no pun intended), I had started to enjoy life without alcohol. Drinking for me used to be like arriving home during a raging blizzard: It was a wonderfully warm and cozy escape from a miserable world. But one day I came home during another raging blizzard and found the place abandoned, with the electricity and heat turned off, with the windows busted out, and no one living there anymore.

That is what drinking had finally become for me. It no longer gave me sufficient shelter from the raging blizzard of life, no matter how many ounces I might drink (which is usually a lot less than the average social drinker's intake, but not always). It was very sad to think that I must endure this miserable blizzard for the rest of my life without being able to escape from it occasionally.

Some of you might be thinking that an abandoned house is still better than the blizzard itself. That may be true, but the rent still costs the same. Then, I rediscovered again what I had known before: The blizzard becomes tolerable when you don't have anything better to compare it to. 

But not every day...

On some especially bad days I still wanted to run into that abandoned house, even though I knew it wouldn't afford me very much protection. I just had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't worth the effort anymore.

Well, now I am going to celebrate the end of that "situation." I now know that I can stop for any length of time that I set for myself. If I drink tonight, it's not a disaster. In fact, I am starting to look forward to it. I used to do some of my very best writing when I was inebriated. In fact, I will write a "drunken" entry when I come home this evening just to see if the "magic" is still there. :-)

As I end this entry (fifteen minutes after the start of the party), I will leave you with something I wrote on a solitary New Year's Eve ten years ago:

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"December 31, 1994, 11:55 PM: I am sitting here, doing my utmost not to give a crap that another meaningless click of the human clock has ticked in the universe of infinite time and space. I remember that midnight October 10, felt no different, nor, for that matter, did noon time, July 18. Why do people get carried away over a totally arbitrary invention that has no connection to reality whatsoever? If each of my years had been better than the previous year, then I might still play along with the game, as I used to (hoping to make it all better by wishing). But nothing has ever changed. Each year that I pretended to look forward to better things, nothing changed;even when I made an effort (I think the New Year came while I was in the middle of that last sentence, as my computer clock now says 12:01 a.m., January 1).

"P.S. When all seems as bad as stated above, then it is a good thing to have Beavis and Butt-Head to fall back on, thank garsh." :-) Sincerely yours, YouNameIt