There are times I think that I might be slightly bi-polar. Today is one of them, as I have a rare indeed experience of being energetic and wanting to get things done. This is nearly enough to send me to bed, fearful that I’m coming down with some disease, but then here we are.
It is just a bit after 11 am and thus far I have, gotten up, dressed, made coffee, downed a significant portion of it, fixed breakfast, washed dishes three times, done a load of wash, dried, folded and put it away, put new bedding on said bed, made a Mexican casserole for dinner, all ready for warming, and have a apple crisp in the oven cooking as we speak. Oh, and I fed Brandy, let out numerous cats, let in some of them, and a dog or two. Whew!
Feeling really lazy are you and racked with guilt? I surely hope so. I don’t do this just for the fun of it you know.
Anyway, I realized that certain statements just refuse to leave my cluttered mind, and I got to wondering why. You know what I mean. Certain events, certain words of wisdom, whatever, stick to the synaptic byways of various memory locations within said brain, and seem to travel through time, coming forth here and there over the years. Some, I heard just a couple of days ago. Go figure.
So here they are, in no particular order. If you expect some logical progression, sorry, but we aren’t into that today. My brain is in its untamed, “JUST WRITE IT DOWN!” mode.
I can’t give you a link, so you will just have to trust me, but I read the other day, about the Sarah thingie–you recall her statement about getting health care in Canada? Well, along with that she announced that they had to do that because health care premiums were beyond their ability until “we got us some good UNION JOBS.” Presumably with good health care. SARAH DEAR–check with the GOP powers that be, but ummm, I’m thinking that the GOP is not fond of that statement. Unions are ummm, how do I put this– A DEMOCRATIC THING! you ignorant woman.
Last night we watched last Sunday’s installment of Amazing Race. We do have our standards of course, but we generally like this show. This season, there are a couple of young guys, who are both authentic cowboys. Not sure what state they are from, but they look, act the part–proven by actual roping skills demonstrated in Argentina at one point.
Anyway, last night, they were in Germany, having just consumed their first beer ever (and it was a HUGE amount) to complete a task in the game. They were then off to a small club in the red light district of Hamburg to the “pit stop.” As they walked down the byways of said district, admiring all the lights, ladies of the evening, and various strip joints, one cowboy exclaimed to the other:
Cord, I don’t think we are in the bible belt any more!”
Indeed not. They are a delightful pair, smart as whips (why whips are smart I have no clue), affable, and so far one of the best teams. We hope they win.
Henry David Thoreau is a dear favorite of mine. Two remarks have stuck in my cranium for years. I have no idea why, but certain truths seem to emanate forth.
I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.
I am not sure what Thoreau meant by this, but I found it on a paper weight, and bought it for the Contrarian many years ago. I like the sound of it, but as I said, I’m not sure what is more deliberate about living in the woods than otherwise. Authentic perhaps? I’m not at all sure how that translates to the 21st century. It’s a ponderful thing.
I’m a big fan of Tennessee Williams. Loved a ton of his plays. Streetcar Named Desire, Sweet Bird of Youth, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (wherein I first learned of the word mendacity!). Night of the Iguana. Oh the list is long. All dark, deep thoughtful things. I think the “method” actors like Newman and Brando loved his stuff.
Williams was gay, and his sister was mentally ill. She was lobotomized at an early age, and never recovered. Williams feared insanity all his life, as well as no doubt how to be a gay man in a very ungay world. His plays reflect the dark underside of the human mind. Some say Blanche DuBois was a reflection of his sister. Some say Brick was Williams.
I heard the other day, that he said this:
From our birth we are condemned to a life sentence of solitary confinement within our flesh.
True enough. Sad, frightening, depressing, but oh so true. Most of us, at some point in life, reach this conclusion though we may not state it so eloquently. We realize that there are no words, no actions, no way to touch, sing, or otherwise convey the depth, breadth, and color of our emotional life. No matter how close we are, you can’t “get me” as I truly am, and I cannot get you. Fact. Move on. Or angst about it forever as Williams appeared to have.
Thoreau said it succinctly and matter-of-factly:
Most men live lives of quiet desperation.
Also true, depressing, sad and all that rot. Fact, move on. We do because there is nothing much else to do. Even if we have faith, we pretty much are still stuck in that.
I’m in a good mood, so these are not dark musings. Just ideas that never leave. They are the boundaries of life. Factual true. Can’t change them, accept them, shrug and move on. Still one sometimes longs to dwell in the mind of a less thinking mind. Easier, yes. But not nearly as enriched.