Guitar practice, day 3

Travis Picking?  I think I may be getting somewhere with this.

Also, my fingers are bleeding, but they hurt less.  Superglue is awesome.

MORE CHORDS!

-Jon.

11:42 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

The View...

Is essentially 4 women shouting at a 5th while she (the 5th) sits rigid as a pole and looks surprised.  When there is a break in the insane babble, 5th woman says something equally insane from the other side of the fence.  I don't mean to be demeaning in any way, but I can't even make out who these people are, let alone what they're trying to say.  I'm only certain that one of the women is Barbara Walters and the other is Whoopi Goldberg, who I loved in Ghost and hated in Hollywood Squares.

Regardless of political affiliation, regardless of gender...  does anyone really enjoy watching people shout unintelligibly?

Yes?

Oh.  Sorry.  Please, resume whatever you were doing.

-Jon.

7:09 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

I am full of (un)righteous anger.

This...

Is the political equivalent of this.

We are not a Theocracy.

We are not a Christian Nation.

We were founded by Deists.

Vote with your head.

Believe with your heart.

Gods don't need your Politics, and your Politics don't need Gods.

-Jon.

5:06 AM - 4 Comments - 5 Kudos - Add Comment

Imagine with me for a bit.

You're a young man from Ohio.  In the midst of World War 2, you sign up for the Navy, with the hopes of becoming a pilot, but due to your colorblindness, you are relegated to Tail Gunner.  One day, your crew goes on mission, and you are left behind, due to your pilot's ear infection.  That ear infection saves your life; the rest of the detail perishes.

Returning home, you finish your degree, and begin to pursue a dream you've had since childhood: Acting.  With hard work and more than a little luck, you make it onto Broadway, and from there, make the transition to film, where you perform with some of the greats of the 50's, Elizabeth Taylor, Frank Sinatra, and, narrowly missing the part from the film test, James Dean.

It is in the end of that decade, that, while on set, you meet a woman, and fall in love.  You are married a short time later.

Fast forward 50 years.

Your political activism has only slightly overshadowed your love for racing.  Your whole food company has donated over 220 Million dollars to charity, and your face is recognizable on supermarket shelves, even if people haven't seen your movies.

Which is unlikely.  Your acting career has spanned 40 years, and you have become an icon in the field.  You have one Oscar on the mantle, and two honorary Oscars on either side.  Despite your success, you have eschewed the Hollywood lifestyle, choosing instead to keep your private life just that.

At the age of 83, you close your eyes and breathe your last, a lifetime of monumental achievements behind you.  Your wife of 50 years is there beside you when you go.  Once, in an interview with Playboy magazine, you were asked if it was hard to maintain monogamy.  Your response:

"Why go out for hamburgers when there's steak at home?"

Imagine that you have lived this life.  Imagine that you have done these things, achieved these goals, lived this much, loved this hard, been this devoted, been this charitable, been this fantastic...

Then, go out, rent "The Color of Money," "The Sting," or "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," and celebrate the life of Paul Newman.

-Jon.

"A man without enemies is a man without character."

8:43 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

A brief political musing.

If I had to choose a lipstick wearing animal, I would, in fact, much rather be a pig than a pit bull.

Pigs have orgasms that last upwards of half an hour.

Pit bulls are not legally allowed in several parts of Canada and the U.S.

Seems pretty clear cut, honestly.

-Jon.

3:06 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Oh, now what do I do?!

That's it, folks...  that's it.

Clay Aiken announced that he is gay.


My world is upside down!  Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling! Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes, the dead rising from the grave,  human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!


-Jon.

12:17 AM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Check it.

2 PM yesterday, in front of the theatre where we met, I asked, and she said Yes.

Let the Engagement begin.

-Jon.

1:27 AM - 16 Comments - 26 Kudos - Add Comment

Finally Finished.

That's that, then.  Time to clean up the residual mess, take a deep breath, and start over.

You have my number.  I'll answer your calls.  My hermitage is done.

-Jon.

4:58 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

It’s the stuff inside of trees.

There are moments when my eyes get clouded, when I stare back and mourn for things that I have long considered dead.  I ask if the life I live would be different, better, had I made a different choice here, kissed different lips then, focused the light differently, auditioned with another song, said yes instead of no, or no instead of yes, or simply not answered at all.  Times when I ask if I would be happier than I am now, or just a different kind of happy, if the contentment that I feel might somehow be a hollow shadow of what I could have had with a single different turn of events.

And then she touches my face and smiles, and it doesn't matter that I've lowered the curtain on that stage.  She answers my doubts and fears with hope and absolution, and something with such a lack of dramatic tension is boring for onlookers to watch.

Even today, I forget the names of friends in stories, get bogged down in reliving the exploits of my High School days in an attempt to somehow encapsulate the essence of someone who I haven't been in years, someone who might be disgusted with the person he would become, before that future self became disgusted in turn.  I tend to gloss over college, for fear of reliving something that might still hurt if I pick at it too much.  It's hard to remember names when you've had so many people who are so damned important, and the point gets lost anyway in trying to explain who they are.

And she listens, and laughs, and she becomes the point.  She becomes the reason and rhyme of every story I can tell, even if the purpose is, "I thought you would find this interesting," or "I hope this makes you smile."

I'm writing this because my head is killing me, and as I break one addiction and pay the cost for it, I consider how addicted I've become to something so much more fulfilling.  A migraine seems a small price to pay, in that light, which is, incidentally, the only light that doesn't make me want to scream.  I'm writing this down in case my head does split, and all the words fall out jumbled.  I've got to get it right, and get it right now, in case I can't stand the light of this monitor tomorrow.

And I want to remember how worth it this feels.

-Jon.

1:16 AM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

New Lang Syne.

http://bigego.com/index.php?page=video&display=689


That is all.

-Jon.

11:04 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment