I'm bored. Really, really bored. Ennui bored. I'm bored enough that I'm ready and willing to do something to get out of the rut in which I've been stuck. Many of you know that my main hobby is theater. I've just finished three back to back shows and I'm a little tired for now. I still have a few weeks before classes begin, and I want to try something new; something out of the ordinary. And it definitely has to be affordable. I've been tinkering with photography, but that can get expensive very quickly and is downright complicated. I don't want a hobby I need to go to school for. I mean a few classes wouldn't hurt. Something that comes along now again like those adult education classes. I've also thought about teaching myself how to play the piano. Well, not teaching myself exactly; I bought some software that guides one through and plugs into your computer to let you know just how badly you suck. I've had it for a while now and for some reason I'm afraid my computer will rap my knuckles with a ruler when I make a mistake. I've also recently joined a gym. Now that would be an excellent place to start a hobby. However a few weeks ago I hurt my foot badly and I'm having to wait for it to heal before I can really hit the gym (EXCUSE ALERT). I've also considered painting, drawing, knitting, and crocheting. These are things I know absolutely nothing about, so I'd need to learn how to do them.
Any suggestions, Dear Readers?
May 20, 2012
March 17, 2010
My Friend Truman Capote and Me
I had the strangest dream a few nights ago and this one was particularly vivid. It came out of nowhere. I dreamed that I was friends with Truman Capote. In my dream he was still alive and about the age he would be minus maybe ten years or so. In the first part of the dream someone was hosting either a speaking engagement or book tour. That part wasn't very clear. I do know that I was assigned to assist him while he was there. Apparently we hit it off so well he invited me to visit him at a home he owned somewhere in south Alabama. I went to visit and upon arriving he gave me a tour of his beautiful home. The last thing I remember before awakening was getting into his car. He was taking me to meet Harper Lee, author of "To Kill a Mockingbird."
There are some curious aspects about this. I've never actually read a single book written by him. I have seen a couple of movies based on short stories he wrote. I am actually most familiar with biographical works based on him. Fifteen or sixteen years ago I saw Robert Morse in the one man show "Tru" on tour. Morse had won the best actor Tony award for his performance on Broadway. More recently I saw Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Capote." He won the best actor Oscar for his performance. My main exposure to Truman Capote has been award winning interpretations of him. I'm not even sure I've ever seen any video of him personally.
Dreams can take you on pretty strange journeys, but this one was memorable enough for me to write about it.
There are some curious aspects about this. I've never actually read a single book written by him. I have seen a couple of movies based on short stories he wrote. I am actually most familiar with biographical works based on him. Fifteen or sixteen years ago I saw Robert Morse in the one man show "Tru" on tour. Morse had won the best actor Tony award for his performance on Broadway. More recently I saw Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Capote." He won the best actor Oscar for his performance. My main exposure to Truman Capote has been award winning interpretations of him. I'm not even sure I've ever seen any video of him personally.
Dreams can take you on pretty strange journeys, but this one was memorable enough for me to write about it.
January 13, 2010
Tacky Is As Tacky Does
*Disclaimer -- The first paragraph of this blog was originally published on 08/12/2007 on another blog of mine and I've simply decided to resurrect it for this one...
Have you ever seen anything so abundantly tacky that you wanted to gouge out your eyes in the hopes of erasing the vision from your brain completely? If you haven't, then look no further than your nearest graveyard after dark. I'm talking about creepy glow-in-the-dark crosses. The first time I happened to notice these things I very nearly ran my car off the road out of fright. Yeah, I thought they were ghosts. I can honestly say that one sure-fire way to see my ghost once I'm dead is to adorn my grave with one of these tack fests. Actually, I'd like to be buried in a "glow-in-the-dark free" environment. I'd hate for somebody to be driving past the graveyard I'm buried in and glance out and think bad thoughts about me just because I'm laying next to some dead dude whose family has no taste. You know what? Forget all this and just cremate me!
My second item of loathing dealing with the deceased is yet another mystery to me. It is the act of people adorning the rear windows of their vehicles with decals of so-called "memorials" to the dead. The Random House Dictionary defines memorial four ways. My favorite is the fourth: of or pertaining to the memory. There are obviously a variety of ways to memorialize a person once they're gone. You could erect a statue, donate money to a charity or educational institution, engrave a brick, or the most common of all -- put a headstone on their grave. Let me be perfectly clear. When you put a decal on your rear window announcing to the world the loss of your loved one, you are most certainly not doing it out of love, respect or deference to the dead. You are doing it for an insidious form of attention. "Hey everybody, look at me! I've lost someone and I'm sad and grief-stricken! I would appreciate it if you drivers behind me joined me in my sorrow!" I refuse. I didn't know your loved one. Looking at your decal is most certainly not making me remember somebody I never knew. Looking at your decal does, however, make me concern your sanity and whether you're properly going through the five stages of grief. For the sake of everyone on the road, please keep your grief to yourself. It is not something to be shared with total strangers who are unfortunate enough to get behind you in traffic.
Have you ever seen anything so abundantly tacky that you wanted to gouge out your eyes in the hopes of erasing the vision from your brain completely? If you haven't, then look no further than your nearest graveyard after dark. I'm talking about creepy glow-in-the-dark crosses. The first time I happened to notice these things I very nearly ran my car off the road out of fright. Yeah, I thought they were ghosts. I can honestly say that one sure-fire way to see my ghost once I'm dead is to adorn my grave with one of these tack fests. Actually, I'd like to be buried in a "glow-in-the-dark free" environment. I'd hate for somebody to be driving past the graveyard I'm buried in and glance out and think bad thoughts about me just because I'm laying next to some dead dude whose family has no taste. You know what? Forget all this and just cremate me!
My second item of loathing dealing with the deceased is yet another mystery to me. It is the act of people adorning the rear windows of their vehicles with decals of so-called "memorials" to the dead. The Random House Dictionary defines memorial four ways. My favorite is the fourth: of or pertaining to the memory. There are obviously a variety of ways to memorialize a person once they're gone. You could erect a statue, donate money to a charity or educational institution, engrave a brick, or the most common of all -- put a headstone on their grave. Let me be perfectly clear. When you put a decal on your rear window announcing to the world the loss of your loved one, you are most certainly not doing it out of love, respect or deference to the dead. You are doing it for an insidious form of attention. "Hey everybody, look at me! I've lost someone and I'm sad and grief-stricken! I would appreciate it if you drivers behind me joined me in my sorrow!" I refuse. I didn't know your loved one. Looking at your decal is most certainly not making me remember somebody I never knew. Looking at your decal does, however, make me concern your sanity and whether you're properly going through the five stages of grief. For the sake of everyone on the road, please keep your grief to yourself. It is not something to be shared with total strangers who are unfortunate enough to get behind you in traffic.
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