A Handful of Random Thoughts and Things

Of course yesterday's absurd post has a story behind it.

We've have been listening to the audio production of Patrick Stewart's one man stage show of A Christmas Carol, which, since careswen and I bought it in, I believe, 1997, has been a staple in our house during the holiday season. We put it on at bedtime and let Mr. Stewart lull us to sleep with his storytelling.

Now, I've not been sleeping well lately. When I don't sleep well my brain starts to do weird and odd things. This is good if you want to be a poet, but that's a post for another time.

So yesterday morning, I sat down at the desktop to work. I punched up Real Player and clicked on a random song. Alan Moore's March of the Sinister Ducks started playing.

You see what happened?

***

I'm trying desperately to hang on to what little holiday cheer I can, lest, like Scrooge, I start muttering "Bah, humbug" at everyone around me. We've purposely avoid playing Dr. Demento style Christmas novelty songs this year because we (careswen and I, not the Royal We) felt all the cynicism might well drive us mad. However, one thing I've discovered I dislike about this time of year are the commercials, especially commercials that take well established carols and other recognizable holiday tunes and change the lyrics to fit the product. I wonder what ring of Hell is reserved for the advertising geniuses who create these things.

On a secondary note about commercials, I also hold a special dislike for commercials that try to look like a news program, with some talking head behind a desk coming to you with breaking news about how wonderful product Y is.

Over on the flipside of this, I sincerely miss hearing the B.C. Clark Jewelry jingle at this time of year. Of course you have no idea what I'm talking about unless you've lived in Oklahoma, in which case you, like me, may well be able to sing it from memory.

***

I still haven't decided whether to keep the beard or not. Some days I like it, some days, not so much. I've got two large patches of grey in it at either cheek, which I haven't decided how I feel about. Yesterday while playing with Reverend Selena, she started to bat at something on my face, a rather odd behavior for her, so I reached to see if I had a piece of yarn or something on my face. I found one of careswen's long hairs tangled up in my beard, and let me tell you, it was not fun pulling it out of my facial hair. Just FYI.

***

Because all writers like to talk about their cats (at least, all writers that are owned by cats) I thought I'd share an interesting observation about Reverend Selena. I have discovered that every day around 4pm, if I am working at the computer, she will come up to me, place her little paws on my leg, meow, and then jump in my lap and purr. It's like tea time, only with no tea and more fur.

***
careswen has been trying to convince me to think way outside the box about how I want to earn money. Now, I'm already doing one thing she's suggested, which is of course writing fiction. But she's also trying to convince me to look at other things, things that I've done in the past, like playing Bass Guitar in a band. I've been resisting because that's the past (I was in a rock-a-billy band in Texas long ago) and I want to try something new (well, that and my confidence in myself as a musician is pretty low these days). But then a couple of days ago I was practicing with the Bass (something I do daily), and I've got the headphones on and my eyes closed and I'm noodling around in E major, when suddenly I just started really rocking. It was like I was the God of Thunder Rumbling across the Heavens. After I stopped playing I opened my eyes and thought to myself, You know, maybe she's on to something.

Well, that's all the news worth reporting for today.

In Deep Peace
Michael

A Handful of Random Thoughts and Things

Of course yesterday's absurd post has a story behind it.

We've have been listening to the audio production of Patrick Stewart's one man stage show of A Christmas Carol, which, since careswen and I bought it in, I believe, 1997, has been a staple in our house during the holiday season. We put it on at bedtime and let Mr. Stewart lull us to sleep with his storytelling.

Now, I've not been sleeping well lately. When I don't sleep well my brain starts to do weird and odd things. This is good if you want to be a poet, but that's a post for another time.

So yesterday morning, I sat down at the desktop to work. I punched up Real Player and clicked on a random song. Alan Moore's March of the Sinister Ducks started playing.

You see what happened?

***

I'm trying desperately to hang on to what little holiday cheer I can, lest, like Scrooge, I start muttering "Bah, humbug" at everyone around me. We've purposely avoid playing Dr. Demento style Christmas novelty songs this year because we (careswen and I, not the Royal We) felt all the cynicism might well drive us mad. However, one thing I've discovered I dislike about this time of year are the commercials, especially commercials that take well established carols and other recognizable holiday tunes and change the lyrics to fit the product. I wonder what ring of Hell is reserved for the advertising geniuses who create these things.

On a secondary note about commercials, I also hold a special dislike for commercials that try to look like a news program, with some talking head behind a desk coming to you with breaking news about how wonderful product Y is.

Over on the flipside of this, I sincerely miss hearing the B.C. Clark Jewelry jingle at this time of year. Of course you have no idea what I'm talking about unless you've lived in Oklahoma, in which case you, like me, may well be able to sing it from memory.

***

I still haven't decided whether to keep the beard or not. Some days I like it, some days, not so much. I've got two large patches of grey in it at either cheek, which I haven't decided how I feel about. Yesterday while playing with Reverend Selena, she started to bat at something on my face, a rather odd behavior for her, so I reached to see if I had a piece of yarn or something on my face. I found one of careswen's long hairs tangled up in my beard, and let me tell you, it was not fun pulling it out of my facial hair. Just FYI.

***

Because all writers like to talk about their cats (at least, all writers that are owned by cats) I thought I'd share an interesting observation about Reverend Selena. I have discovered that every day around 4pm, if I am working at the computer, she will come up to me, place her little paws on my leg, meow, and then jump in my lap and purr. It's like tea time, only with no tea and more fur.

***
careswen has been trying to convince me to think way outside the box about how I want to earn money. Now, I'm already doing one thing she's suggested, which is of course writing fiction. But she's also trying to convince me to look at other things, things that I've done in the past, like playing Bass Guitar in a band. I've been resisting because that's the past (I was in a rock-a-billy band in Texas long ago) and I want to try something new (well, that and my confidence in myself as a musician is pretty low these days). But then a couple of days ago I was practicing with the Bass (something I do daily), and I've got the headphones on and my eyes closed and I'm noodling around in E major, when suddenly I just started really rocking. It was like I was the God of Thunder Rumbling across the Heavens. After I stopped playing I opened my eyes and thought to myself, You know, maybe she's on to something.

Well, that's all the news worth reporting for today.

In Deep Peace
Michael