Ain’t No Movie Gonna Tell Me How To Watch It…

Independent film genre means  lifted of any and every obligation to follow the prescribed and done-to-death-in-ten-easy-steps Hollywood movie formula for Hollywood movie results.  Myself as a viewer, I sort of enjoy the thrill of figuring out how I am to feel during a movie according to what’s happening on the screen and not according to an applaud now sign.

I’ll notice the shiny movie poster which has been Hollywoodized and then I go watch the other movie…the one no one has heard of.  The unlit one because theatre staff forgot to change the overhead light to its poster.  Follow a recipe only if you want to succeed in the achievement of ‘boring’.  Yes, yes… I know you’d have to adhere to a recipe for guaranteed results,   However guaranteed equates to mind-numbing  and nobody wants that on their plate or on the screen.





Alpha Bits and Pieces

Mr. Kelloggs why d’ya lie?  All those carbs swimming in our milk for years, threatening to drown themselves  if we didn’t eat them fast or suffer a soggy sentencing.   Oh! Powdered sugared flakes and suspiciously plump raisins, why did you show up years later as high cholesterol and diabetes?

I should have taken a cue from the sugary threats in my bowl when they spelled out c.a.v.a.t.i.e.s and e.m.p.t.y…c.a.l.o.r.i.e.s. swimming around in our bowls having a good time.

At least the  sugar crisp bear came with  his own warning nestled in its title.  The sugar would be crisping our collective arteries.

Its never too late er…o.k. sometimes its a tiny bit late to wash your bowls and not have treats in the morning.  What are we cats???? Lets be grown up about our food intake.  And lets show Kelloggs and Post who the real breakfast boss is in this joint.



Listen to your gut…when its talkin’ to you …

Roxette would debate in song that its the heart we should listen to.   As it turns out….nope!   The heart gives mixed signals and can’t be trusted in making  executive decisions.  Its really that other organ, the gut, we should be attentive to.   Follow the gut when deciding upon anything from if you should marry him to if you should have that greenish hued chicken for lunch. The gut never lies, it knows best and is directly linked to mom. The gut language is easy to interpret as well.

You know at times, shortly after you’ve committed to something or someone and you begin to get  that ‘just ain’t right’ feeling, that would be your gut downloading for you the truth, the whole truth.  It knows you don’t have all day or ten years to decide, you may not be within proximity of a restroom either.    It’ll render your answer faster than you can phrase the question;  built that way because this is where all the real feelings go.  The gut is the storage house for those nagging and unwanted true feelings, the hushed-up ones.

Forever the heart has had the glory of stealing the show at Valentines and got leading roles in Hollywood; plus built its reputation for being pure and innocent.  The gut instead, got to sift through the fluff and tell like it is really– the unromantic, dirty  little truths.  A Hallmark Card reject, the poor gut was the unsung hero.  Getting us out of binds, pointing to the bad guy in the line up, telling your kids to bring that extra sweater to school because though the weather station predicted sun–your gut told you there’d be snow; getting us out of bigger binds.

Gut is the new heart and very close relative of our intuition.  Don’t let the heart fool you with its scripted suggestions which would have  you peddling out second chances to those who don’t deserve them.  Pretty soon you’ll be forgiving everybody and then you’ll get desensitized as to who actually deserves it.  Its the heart’s mission to be confounding, that and to pump blood.   Your gut will have you look past ‘the right thing to do’ and do the right thing as opposed to the nearly right thing or the misguided yet nice thing…

So don’t ignore your gut, it may not just be the acid bothering you, it could be the truth.  Listen to your gut…when its talkin’ to you.


Hey…Why So Mad?

Mad is the self-imposed and unrelenting state that has a grip on your balls if you’re a man and the other thing if you’re a woman.  Mad makes you want to perpetuate mad, like good mad after bad mad.  This is because in all that madness you’re not even in control…you sold it.  Your control is presently sitting at the pawn shop– you lost all rights to it.. ooops.  Now you can’t forgive yourself for this either and it compounds into more mad.  See how that works?  Then if that wasn’t bad enough, you get to watch as your ‘control’ gets  sold for peanuts to some stranger who bought your ‘dignity’ just last week and intends on playing unabashedly with both.  Are you feeling your blood boil already, do you know how many days off your life that equates to?

So what does one do, because as long as you’re not imprisoned by the law but just by yourself — you still have a choice.  Answer, turn mad into sad– God’s got you here in the state of sad.  Here the only thing boiling is homemade stew.  Wake up it is Kansas.  It’s not lame to be sad, it’s a little lamer to actually become lame from a bar fight as you were sinking into mad-ness. Sad instead has you reflecting …”what the hell was I doing piss drunk in a bar anyway’, when I should have been home reading a bedtime story ‘Little Mad Bear Gets Schooled’ to my kids” realizing hey wait a minute that bear in the bar fight with his jaw on the ground next to him  could have been me, but happily– isn’t!

Although there is one catch to turning mad into sad…you’d have to forgive yourself. Have To!  Here’s how: Rule one- by loosening that grip from your privates which kept you steaming mad, the blood flows back to the heart where you live most of the time.  Step two, sad says take stock forgive the sinner, that’s us and them– not the sin …don’t do it again.  Number three, have good cry and give it over to the Lord, the highest of managements you’re next drinks will keep coming orange juice.  While you’re crying– gladden in the refreshing truth that no cancer cells accrued as you were sad but the opposite is true you’ve released toxins and restored hope.   Sad but true.

A Taxi-Fair Trade

A taxi driver today told me a story about a Valentines he remembers every year on this particular day.  He recounts that on this day, which was actually evening, the radio gives him an address to go pick up a client.  As he drives up, he notices a smallish woman of about fifty with two overstuffed suitcases in either hand packed as though her journey would would have lasted a year.  The driver, Ted, gets out from the car and rushes to help her with the heavy bags.  He’s excited because a trip to the airport, a two hour drive, would certainly have meant a nice big tip.  Enough so that he could stop at one of the fancy airport shops to get a box of dark chocolate for his beloved.  They had been arguing, something terrible and the threat of them breaking up loomed low and heavy.  He was hoping that it would all be solved soon.  He had spent the last three pick-ups in a silent stupor and not his usual  to and fro  chit chat with his clients self. Ted worried that his beloved of twenty-six years would be gone by the time he’d get home after his shift but supposed it would have been just as well.

Back to the story, so Ted climbs in and begins to set the meter suddenly anxious to get it over with this last call for the night.  whilst turning to ask her ”where to ma’am” as though he hadn’t already happily suspected.   She responds dryly, “around the block please”.  Ted looked at her from his mirror believing that it was a joke and waited for her to state she had been kidding, next announcing her real destination.  But the woman said nothing for a long while, a stopped-taxi-long-while.  Ted grew impatient glancing at both the meter and the clock.  The woman starts to speak…”just around the block please, I haven’t quite decided where I want to go yet “.   About just then her cell phone goes off– the ringtone set to that song by The Beatles…Yesterday.

<Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away, now it looks as though they’re here to stay>… the woman answers her  phone and matter-of- factly states, ” I’m leaving you Bobby and you can’t stop me this time’ ..then hangs up.  She looks up at Ted and tells him to start driving around the block like she had asked.   After about a minute, her phone goes off again this time, they hear… <suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be. there’s a shadow hanging over me, oh yesterday….> she picks up again and declares “what?” then doesn’t say anything for another long while and just listens. She half looks up at the driver and motions him to carry on driving, into the phone she says, ” its too late for apologies.. I’m leaving you for good this time, good bye”.  Teary eyed, she looks up at the driver and says “please keep driving, I haven’t made up my mind where I want to go”.  The phone rings again,…” <Why she had to go> pleads the phone …  < I don’t know she wouldn’t say, I said something wrong, now I long for … she picks up “stop interrupting me and my driver,  we’re half way to the airport already.

Ted sees where this is going, so he opens his  car door literally parked around the corner of their home address, and lights his cigarette.  He starts to think of his own sweetheart and how he’d miss her so much, he’d feel lost in the world though he’d have the wheels to take him anywhere he’d want to go.  Only that the place he wanted to travel was the short distance between the outstretched arms of his wife.

Ted peers in the car window at the woman.  She had since stopped talking and now was blowing her nose.  One of those loud and full nose blows that seem like they accompany the flu …the cell phone sitting quietly beside her.  Her phone starts up again…<Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play, now I need a place to hide away, oh I believe in yesterday… this time she picks up her phone and though Ted can’t hear her, he can make out by her expression that she’s made up her mind as to where she wants to go.   He puts out his cigarette and climbs back in,”where to ma’am he utters, “home” she says and looks up at him embarrassed.

“I’m sorry”, she says and starts to go for her purse …I’ll pay you for your trouble… Ted smiles … “home it is, keep your money… you’ve already paid me” … and he drives her home.   After dropping her and her two luggages off at the door, Ted returns to his car and drives  home to his wife. He would be early, early enough to try one more time.  The corner store would still be opened for a Valentine’s box of dark chocolate.  Dang, it seemed only  yesterday chocolate didn’t cost an arm…. just kidding.    The End.

Saturn’s Baaaaaaaaaaa-ackkkkkk

I’m a Capricorn — been so most of my life.  Giving up the partying for the putting-in of hard work…was I.  Apparently, Saturn, my planetary dad had been missing from my sign for the past thirty years.  Thirty years– where on earth did he go?  Or, where the solar system was he all this time? That is one long time to be left sans supervision from the old man.  He must have known we caps would be up to the job. Babysitting the other signs like a good big brother or big sister, not burning down the house and finally, leading by example.  Sober sucks the lot of us!

But thirty years is a lot of time  for even we Capris not to have made mistakes.  Errors in character judgement springs to mind first and painfully. Having wasted a great deal of time infantilizing losers of some of the other signs and giving way too much benefit of the doubt bullshit.  From dating pyromaniacs not noticing the lingering smell of smoke attached to them to dating plain maniacs and not noticing their loony bin ID bracelet.

Maybe this is why Capricorns don’t age, what’s a mere three decades give or take a decade.  With lessons gotten, I set sail for my next thirty year adventure under the stars.  Pop’s at the helm now– this ought to be good!





Bring Merry Along To Your Happy New Year!

Merry is a heart thing; where as happy is a heady one.  Ever notice how merry is to Christmas like happy is to the New Year?  Ever wonder why it isn’t the reverse?  Maybe it has to do with how the first part of the holiday is whimsical, filled with legal wonderment and when adults can let their hair or beards down and be like the little child in spirit and in p.j.’s on Christmas morn’.

Fast forward a few days later, — the new year; where the greeting changes somewhat to the sober and psychological and on every other self help book on how to become happy,–How To Be Merry, make fwends, and Influence People’?    Drop the merry act fast and have a Happy New Year.   Merry must stay back, there will be no room for merry at the board meetings, nor the traffic jams to the board meetings.  Did you ever hear someone bid you a merry tax season, or what about merry mother’s day or merry Halloween.  ‘I had a merry time at happy hour last night with the gang’. Robin Hood and his happy-men showed up!  Sounds inappropriately festive to me.

So really, while there are no hard and fast rules as to where to apply merry and happy… I bid you both a Happy and a Merry New Year– living in  a world world where you can use both terms interchangeably and not be looked down upon but rather hailed for being daringly merry. More, in a world where both are felt rather than just said.

Happily and Merrily ever after…