Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes……

Remember that time when I was somewhere else?

Yeah. Me too. Good Times.

I’m still there, but I’m about to find myself going somewhere else.

Something, something leaves and wind. Time to Face the inevitable. 

Seriously. I just frowned out. No, not really.

I am surprisingly melancholy. I’ve enjoyed my time here, and although I am far removed from all that I love, it has been a real education. I shall treasure it.

Next up, I will find myself in new scenic environs, with all new sights, sounds and coffee shops.

I’m not entirely sure how long this particular “regeneration” of my professional role will last, but it will, I am sure, be another fine mess I have gotten myself into.

I wonder what it will be like?

That’s not  the question I should be asking. 

What I should be asking is What will I be like after it’s all done?

Often, we find ourselves nose-pressed-to-the-silver-plate of unexpected challenge. That’s me when I’m not at home.

So I have elected to utilize my time to reach down, find some gravitas, and discover the person I really think I am. And the person I deserve to be. I “choose” the face I want to wear. 

So stepping to the edge of the diving board, I take a Deep Breath, and jump.

Before I do though:

A moment of Silence for Robin Williams, Lauren Bacall, and Sir Richard Attenborough.

It’s been a hell of a week.

 

Classic Half Empty or Classic Half Full?

I was given the option of writing this entry using the “easy” method, or I could choose the “classic” mode.

Can you tell the difference?

Yeah, neither can I, from here.

Still, I guess it’s nice to be asked.

There has been a lot of that going around. New and improved, with a nod to what was, if you want.

We just can’t seem to let go of how it used to be. 

We need to have that connection, that ongoing tether through the ether, to days of yore.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m all good with classic mode, but it is nice to change it up once in awhile.

Everything old is new again, and there is nothing new under the sun.

I wonder if maybe all our digitized what-iffing goes somewhere to be cataloged, alphabetized and stacked on neatly dusted shelves.

Like some great candy store store of wonder. Colorful jars filled with the soft chewy concepts of our purpose and our intentions…..

Overseen and tended to by a kindly old guy in a pristine white smock……

Woah….

Did I just invent God?

HA! 

That’s hilarious. Me inventing God.

That is Classic Me, all the way.

Eyes And Ears…..And All That Jazz…..

Let me lay it down for you, real easy like.

Children should be seen and not heard.

That’s an old adage that is probably older in practice than we realize.

And it is complete bull-shit.

Here’s why:

Children generally have no filter. They have no concept, in the beginning, of behaviors and attitudes that we as adults tend employ with each other on a minute by minute basis, depending on our audience.

They can only speak truths, and stop doing that when they learn the trick of deceit from us, you dig?

They are a mirror to our own twisted and misdirected pathway from innocence to guilt. And we don’t like it.

We REALLY don’t like it. We never have. Hence the saying.

How dare a child call us out, and hoist us up on our own petard?

Because they can, and they should. We need to be reminded every once in awhile that, as adults or as parents, we aren’t always right. We aren’t always correct. And we don’t always know what we are talking about.

It’s also ok to be wrong. And for our children to see us accepting the fact that we can be wrong.

If they never see it, they’ll never believe it.

Until it happens. In a big way. And their whole world changes in the blink of an eye.

All because, apparently, they should have been seen and not heard.

The correct version of that old adage is of course the obvious:

Children SHOULD be seen, AND heard.

But also:

Parents should watch, and listen.

Stop, Look and Listen, Baby. That’s MY philosophy.

Alright, so Elvis isn’t exactly synonymous with jazz, but you can pick up what I’m laying down, right?

Solid.

Resistance is Fruitful

Holy. Effing. Eff.

(I’m trying to curb my substantial swearing habit)

I did it!

I unhooked from the Big Blue Monster!

For seven long years, my main source of information regarding any and all goings on in my neck of the woods, beckoned to me like a Hollywood marquee.

Picture albums. Casual events. Random posts.

Likety Like like like.

Great epochs of time and energy spent as part of the little social engine that could.

But when reality spills over the sides of our little Ark of conformity, and soaks us where we live, it’s time to take stock of what is most important.

And Facebook just ain’t on that list.

For 50, 000 years our civilization survived without it. I think I can manage the next 40 or so.

And like any good addict can tell you, giving up the juice is easy.

Staying off is the hard part.

Here’s to Day One of being clean.