This thing is an exciting engineering feat.
Fun and Games Dept
49.
A quick thought before bed. I turned 49 today and my life couldn’t be better. Onward and upward.
Socially Awkward.
From the TCM website
One of my favorite “classic” movies is “Dear Heart”, a romantic comedy from 1964. Filmed in black and white, “Dear Heart” stars Geraldine Page and Glenn Ford as a couple that flirts with each other and ends up together by the time the credits roll. When I was younger I enjoyed this movie because it was the one time that you would see both Mrs. Kravitzes (from “Bewitched”), Alice Pearce and Sandra Gould, share a couple of scenes together, along with a couple of staples from the “Bewitched” series, as well as that old staple Mary Wickes.
As I watched the movie on many occasions over the years, I couldn’t help but notice that the lead character, Miss Evie Jackson played by Geraldine Page, had a charming social awkwardness about herself. She had hotel bellman announce her name of the PA system, she got to know her waiters and waitresses on a first name basis, she complimented strangers on their beards (a rarity in the 1960s), she was friendly with everyone. She was outgoing in a sort of awkward way. I totally identify with that and while I don’t see myself in a female role in anyway (I love my junk and the hormones that come with it), I can awkward like that in social situations. In the past I’ve worried about this sort of thing to the point that I’ve sent messages in my swinging days that said things like, “we’re we suppose to have sex?” but just shy of age 49 I don’t really care if I’m awkward or not anymore.
Earl and I just had dinner at a local Chicago restaurant near O’Hare Airport (let’s say it rhymes with Jiobarno’s) and I chatted up the waitress a little bit. Her name was JoAnn. She was missing a tooth. She seemed flustered, hurried and over it all, but after a few moments of idle chatter she calmed down and we ended up having a pleasant time that was originally off to a rocky start (it took a long while for any of the service staff to discover us). I believe that once I worked up the gumption to engage in some idle chatter (fueled by 48 ounces of 312 Green Line IPA) and JoAnn relaxed a bit, everything worked out in the end.
There’s nothing wrong with complimenting a man on his beard or asking a woman how her evening is or exchanging chit chat with a stranger as you climb to your floor together. Sure, as a middle-aged “Dad” type I might creep into the realm of creepy for some, but pay attention to me and you’ll discover that I’m not some creep. Listen to my words and you’ll discover that we can all relax.
I think we need a little more social awkwardness in the world today so that we can break the ice and find common ground together In Real Life. Get off the phone, chat up a stranger and share a smile.
You could brighten someone’s day.
Excitement.
Earl and I are in Chicago for a few days before heading off for vacation mid-week. We didn’t know where we would be right now so we booked our flights out of O’Hare. This is my last trip to the Windy City before our house closing at the beginning of August.
As we were sitting on the Kennedy Expressway waiting for traffic to sort itself out I couldn’t help but reflect on the excitement I feel when we come into Chicago. A long buried dream of living in a big city is coming true at age 49. I still find it hard to believe.
I’m excited about the new challenges that come with the life semi-reboot. I’ll be learning new terrain for my home turf as a pilot. I’ll sit in traffic if I’m not riding the train. We will be living in a different time zone. There’s much more available to us 24 hours a day.
So much to explore. So much to enjoy. So much excitement.
Respect.
Image courtesy of TMZ through some random Google search.
As a card-carrying, rainbow flag waving gay man I’m going to make an admission to the world right now. I’ve had a few beers, I’ve pulled up on my balls, I’m feeling courageous, so here it is.
I can’t stand Aretha Franklin.
When I hear Aretha Franklin start making some raspy, wailing noises that result in people throwing awards at her I suddenly feel the impulse to slam my balls in a car door so I can wail louder than her and possibly earn a Grammy.
Look it, I will be the first to admit that I might enjoy singing the background vocals to “Who’s Zoomin’ Who” once in a great while after I’ve had a few beers. I learned how to spell respect because she spelled it for us, repeatedly, throughout the 60s and 70s ad nauseum. (I’d rather someone just “sock it to me”.) But the truth of the matter is, I don’t really enjoy her vocal stylings, I don’t care for her diva style and honestly I don’t know what all the hype is about. I think she’s the one that started that whole urban yodeling thing where someone tries to shriek up and down the medley like a stripper working the pole, but I didn’t blame her for that until Christina Aguilera started singing about stars reaming before a football game.
This all being said, the woman (Aretha, not Christina) has earned like 18 Grammys and other awards over the years. She has the balls to take hours to sing the National Anthem and no one bats an eye. She earned her props from the people that enjoy that sort of thing and hey, it might not be my cup of tea but other people groove on it and there’s nothing wrong with that.
The truth of the matter is, it’s Aretha’s wailing and my distaste for it that made me realise that not everyone in the world is going to like what I do, what I write or what I say. I might not win awards and I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever driven anyone to slam their balls in a car door but there’s been plenty of people that have laughed at my jokes, enjoyed the applications I’ve written at work or have enjoyed my DJ skills at clubs over the years. And there’s been plenty of people that couldn’t stand me along the way.
I’m no worse the wear for it. And neither is Aretha. So even though you’re never going to find me at an Aretha Franklin concert screaming “You go ‘Re ‘Re!”, someone somewhere is going to take a hit off a bong and scream it with all their might.
And somewhere else, though I doubt a bong will be involved, someone, somewhere, is going to yell, “you go J.P.!”
30 Days.
When it time for me to move onto whatever lies beyond this life, this photo represents how I want people to remember me: standing happily in an open field, transfixed by something geek worthy, looking off into the distance. People that know me should know that I’m very happy in this photo. I’m by myself but happily in love. Earl is right behind me in this photo, supporting my endeavors and ideas. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Earl took this photo of me back in spring 2016. It was my version of a marketing photo for the local power company back in the 1950s. I posted this photo on Facebook this morning without a caption. And then I decided that my 30 day self-challenge for the month would be to stay away from the platform for the month of July.
I’ve tried to step away from Facebook on a number of occasions in the past. Invariably something happens where I feel compelled to go back and take a peek: I want to share photos from a flight or some family event has taken place or I want to know what’s going on with friends. This month I’m doing my best to contact people through more traditional means, even if that means exchanging emails back and forth. I don’t want to be part of an algorithm. I don’t want some nebulous service deciding what I should see and who’s information is more important to me. I don’t need reminders telling me to contact so and so because they haven’t contributed to Facebook in a while. The service has become too big, too intrusive and too siloed. The cons outweigh the pros on my tally sheet.
This “no Facebook” month goes hand in hand with not placing my iPhone on a restaurant table (even upside-down). I want to be present in the moment. I want to live in the here and now, with my head and heart facing forward, looking for the positive in the future that lies ahead.
I’m hoping that I’ll start some sort of trend, whether it’s shunning Facebook or encouraging people to put their phones down when they’re with friends in a social settings. Yesterday, while out for a ride, Earl and I stopped at a diner for lunch. The two of us talked about a myriad of subjects. The family of five at the next table all picked at their plates while they each looked at their own phones. No words were exchanged. No glances were shared. Mom, dad and the three teenage kids all had their heads buried in their phones. I could see Dad was looking at Facebook. Mom was looking at pinterest. One child had snapchat up.
I just found that whole scenario so sad.
There’s too much in the here and now that warrants our attention. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy the company.
This Is A Test.
So this is a test. I’ve downloaded a hideous blogging tool called BlogPad Pro for my iPad. The buttons are outrageously huge. The user interface is atrocious. The fonts are awful and the colors are mindblogging.
Yet, it’s the only blogging app for iOS that can reliably connect to my self-hosted blog. Even the native WordPress app can’t handle that job. It chokes at random times on any given day.
Screenshot of this entry in progress
After this bit of griping I’ve decided to give this app a whirl. As hideous as it looks it still does what it does well and the user friction seems to be low.
Wish me luck.
Ear Bug.
During my Jeep adventures this weekend I had this song cranked up as I was bumping around on a nearly non-existent road.
Here’s Agnetha Fältskog with “I Won’t Let You Go”. You probably recognize Agnetha from ABBA.
