Two Thoughts

04/23/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

I follow my own advice; I write several thousand words a week. I don’t expect people to clamor in appreciation or even agreement. If we would all take a moment to express and create, we might do so imperfectly – and we might alienate some folks. But in so doing, if you do so honestly and without a sharpened arrow, you are opening your door for them to know you and understand you. If they choose to dislike or distrust that person at the door, you have done both yourself and the other person a favor. So many people obsess over the opinion of the anonymous, sometimes forgetting that people are often to assume the absolute worst or wrong thing about you without any basis whatsoever. If you don’t like celery, don’t pretend you do; and if you hate that we can fund war, which is almost unsolvable, but rarely hunger, which is, then say so – comfort is for each person to find in his or her own way.

With practiced scorn they look upon the less fortunate, convinced their steps and choices were made and placed upon some invisible red carpet: this gigantic sphere, separated by imagined lines of supremacy.

Whimsical

Goals: This Post is Not About Those

04/22/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

If you know people from a variety of backgrounds and religions, all of whom are great people, it’s difficult to feel much superiority when you see how fulfilled their lives are, even when guided by a different unseen hand.

The above picture caused considerable consternation on social media. Many people wrote me and asked, “Do those who seem to be offended by this picture not understand they seem to be admitting that it applies to them?” The question lingers.

A visual after dinner mint if you plan on watching the news tonight.

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This one popped out of my mouth when someone was attempting to feebly admonish me for a sense of humor.

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Miley Cyrus’ new CD of re-imagined children’s songs is interesting. The first single: “Twerking On the Railroad.”

For aficionados of really, really bad jokes…

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…And if it’s not something at least approximating a right, I’d like to know for which ideal the eagle flies… PS: I’m not posting this to change your mind, which is unswayable, but to say how far left my vision extends.

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Whimsical

Jethro / Dexter Parking Lot Anecdote

04/21/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

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The following is based on real events:

A couple of days ago, as I exited work, I noticed that my co-worker Jethro was ahead of me. His real name isn’t Jethro, but his demeanor certainly evokes the Jethro we all seem to know from the classic tv show. We jokingly refer to him as “The Wind,” because as is the case with wind, we can’t get him to stop blowing from his piehole. Whatever energy propels the elusive perpetual motion machine, I’m sure that Jethro’s mouth is powered by the same unseen force. I also joke that being in a room with him is akin to being trapped inside a confined space, given the likely and sudden drop of oxygen once he starts talking. (Unlike an airplane, our workplace doesn’t have drop-down oxygen supplies for emergencies.)

Jethro and I both typically arrive at work before the chickens arise and the vampires retire to their coffins, so we tend to park in the premium spots in the same parking lot. As Jethro and I were parked closely together, I suddenly decided to engage in tomfoolery, for which I attended school several years. (They don’t give out Tomfoolery Certificates to just anyone.) To be honest, the first thing that popped into my head was how awesome it would be to sneak up on him as he swung his right leg into his car. I would then dart behind him and stick a syringe full of goofy juice into his neck, exactly as Dexter would do if he had been inclined to start murdering clowns or weirdos instead of killers.

I crouched and scampered along the middle row of parked vehicles. Jethro’s car was parked backward so I had to stop and press myself up against an SUV to hide. I knew I would have time because Jethro can’t help but to look at himself for a long, loving moment in any available mirror, presumably to check to see if any small animals had taken up residence in his hilarious face carpet. Obviously, though, even my silhouette is quite large. Based on that, I guess it’s more accurate to say I slumped lazily against the SUV. There was no “Mission Impossible” theme playing, although if such a tune were to exist, I think it would have been “Laughably Unlikely” to have been wafting through the air.

The idea of Dexter-ing Jethro made me laugh a little to myself. After a brief pause, I once again crouched and tried to half-jog like an injured bear across the open driveway where Jethro would be unable to see me as he drove out.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, an elderly gentleman was riding his massive scooter on the public sidewalk adjacent to the main road, uphill. He was rapidly approaching my location from the south.

Between me and the approaching (and invisible) elderly scooter rider, there was a small outbuilding, one which would provide me cover from the eyes of Jethro until such time as I was prepared to jump out with the intent to startle him.

“What Could Possibly Go Wrong?” should have been flashing in my head in bright colors at this point. Seeing as I live in Arkansas, though, it is my birthright to act without intelligence or thought when needed. It’s a right I exercise with great abandon and with zealous frequency. (It’s cheaper than taking vacations if you need to save a few dollars.)

(In case I didn’t mention it, Jethro drives exactly like Ray Charles would fly a plane, as several thousand angry bees attempted to sting him.)

As I darted past the corner of the outbuilding along the exit driveway, I looked up at the precise moment that the elderly gentleman on the scooter rocketed up to the point where the sidewalk and driveway intersect. He simultaneously hit the brakes, rocking to a full stop, with surprising force and threw up both arms, his face forming a large “O” of fear as I stopped dead in my tracks.

It turns out that from his point of view, a crazy bald man running as if he were wounded came around the corner of the building, laughing to himself, planning to attack him. I suppose I looked like a fat Charles Manson might have, if you electrified his underwear and offered him a two-second head start before you shot him.

I was sufficiently taken aback by the appearance of Scooter Man, so surprised that I began to do that nervous, overly-long babbling explanation common to situations in which you’re caught off guard, such as being Tom Cotton or surprised while drinking cow’s milk directly from the udder. I think my attempt to placate Scooter Man probably worsened his appraisal of the situation. I apologized as best as I could for scaring him. He had already started accelerating away, shaking his head in bewilderment, speculating if there were a mental ward nearby.

About that time, Jethro came around the corner, putting his window down, laughing at my attempt to startle him.

The next time, I am going to taser Jethro, so help me. Or myself -if I’m tempted to try to run or hide. And I need to borrow a syringe of goofy juice just in case.

PS: Photo is an artist’s rendering.

Whimsical

A Coffee’s Death

04/20/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

My wife Dawn sits in her chair so long that at times I begin to wonder if she has transcended space-time. I’ll hear the ebb and flow and the staccato crescendos of keyboard clatter, at times sounding like a battalion of boot-clad squirrels marching on tile floors. She could just as easily create a sound loop of her attacking the keyboard, play it, and then clamber out the adjacent window, with no one the wiser. I just assume otherwise that she sits in her chair, eternally, a Schrödinger’s cat of typing/not typing, depending on whether she’s being observed.

I’ll get her a cup of coffee, only to check later to see if she wants an additional cup. Many times, I’ll pick her cup up, only to find that it has turned into a solid slab of creamer, given that a century had elapsed between the times she got out of the chair.

I often wonder if we had to have official portraits done whether she would opt to have hers done while seated in her office chair; I might not recognize her otherwise.

Today, I jumped up to get fresh coffee and offered her another cup. She said, “Sure.”

As I headed into the kitchen, I laughed, and asked her, “Do you want me to save you some time and just dump it directly in the sink once I make it?”

It’s unfair, really, to condemn so many cups of coffee to certain death. But I must play my small role – that of dutiful husband, supplying incessant cups of ignored coffee.

This joke reminds me of Jim Gaffigan’s comedy bit, the one wherein he recites the directions for eating a Hot Pocket: “Take out of box, place directly in toilet.”

I suppose I could eliminate all the steps when I make coffee and just have it drip brew directly into the drain as I make it. Somehow, that seems wasteful, though.

Whimsical

Vrai

04/17/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

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Instead of hard hats, I think businesses should make workers dip their heads in Magic Shell ice cream topping. Then, we’d know who the cool-headed folk were.

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Whimsical

Not What’s Expected

04/16/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

I made the above to amuse myself, as always…

I’m on the rantbox again! Look, guys, if your friends or family say things like, “There is a car that runs on water or that gets 100 miles per gallon, they just can’t make money off of it,” they need to be swiftly conked on the face with any available skillet or hammer. Twice. “They” don’t have a hidden cure for cancer, there is no car that runs on water, and you should forego watching sports or “The Bachelor” to read a book. You’re supposed to be an adult. When you say things like this, we can’t kill you and hide the body – but we want to.

Trigger alert: do not read this post if you are susceptible to S.U.B. Syndrome, have imaginary friends, or take medication for blood clots. Several friends beseeched me to write a post that would serve as a guide to living a better, more robust life. After inspecting my journals of wisdom, quips, and information, I ran across the group of Norwegian philosophers known as Ylvis and found fresh renewal of what it means to be alive and to pursue a life of deeper meaning. I’ve noted many words of knowledge from these scholars in my personal journals.

Opening the book in order to place it flat on the table, I found my way to page 89, to read an excerpt from Ylvis’ essay “Stonehenge.” These following words provide all the meaning I need to get through this day:

“What’s the purpose of Stonehenge? A giant granite birthday cake, or a prison far too easy to escape?”

It’s not what you expected, is it? Well, that’s how wisdom works. If you are expecting to read something totally familiar and devoid of surprise, you aren’t learning. And if you expect normal commentary on my page, you’ve eaten too many mushrooms.

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The more insistent and unapologetic the voice, the greater your motive for doubt.

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Not for the agnostics, who look on in equal casual disregard, but for those who walk without feet touching the ground.

Jury Duty, Religion, Social Rules

An Imperfect Commentary on the Death Penalty

04/15/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

This is an imperfect commentary from the last time the death penalty was a hot topic. I didn’t share it because I seem to have a minority voice.

The fact that DNA evidence has exonerated so many innocent prisoners should give incredible pause to those so assured that justice is both possible and being served when we collectively execute someone. Almost 3/4 of those wrongfully convicted had eyewitness testimony used in their convictions. Imagine being accused of a crime you didn’t commit, your fellow citizens testifying that they saw you in the course of the crime and that the State decides to put you to death. “Yes, it is a small price to pay for the greater good,” you might say, but only because it is not you or someone you know being wrongly accused. It’s true that these cases are rare compared to the volume of our criminal justice system. If you can imagine yourself being accused and facing the death penalty, though, it might introduce the reality of swallowing that sentence.

This argument isn’t even about the rights of the victims or whether most of those convicted of murder have indeed ‘earned’ their sentence; it’s about the undeniable hatefulness of using a system known to have sentenced people to die for crimes they didn’t commit. It is a specious argument to tell those who are against the death penalty that they should be thinking only of the victim, as any system which kills people without being completely sure of its methodology is suspect. I find it difficult to reconcile the clamor for death absent certainty; until we as fallible and negligent humans figure this out, we must proceed with caution.

As a human, I do understand fully the urge to repay monstrous acts with repayment in kind. It’s just difficult for me to translate that to granting the State the same right. The indifference with which the State addresses its business makes it incapable of those qualities which make us all better human beings. I admit my contradictions in this regard.

I can more easily imagine looking the other way while an outraged father kills the monster who has killed his child than I can watch as the State pretends that it hasn’t repeatedly acted wrongly in the past. It’s too high of a price to pay. If, on the other hand, you are certain that all those charged are truly guilty, then proceed with a clear conscience. I won’t judge, but I do look askance at our collective disregard for how disjointed and untenable much of our justice system really can be. This is doubly true especially after personally hearing the shenanigans of a jury in an actual murder trial. I have no expectation or delusion of fairness. There is no jury of our peers, no prosecutorial objectiveness, nor unilateral access to fairness for anyone caught up in the judicial system.

Yes, I do think of the victims and I often wonder how it is that there isn’t more violence in the world. I think to my own childhood and am perplexed that someone in my immediately family wasn’t killed. (Except for my father; his offense was driving while wildly intoxicated and killing my cousin.) I don’t look to religion to guide my beliefs in this regard, because forgiveness toward anyone who has harmed a loved one is a case-by-case scenario, with only those affected capable of offering it. It’s intensely private and personal. I would never sit in judgment for how they choose to react or for their support of a specific punishment.

An eye-for-an-eye conveys a certain satisfaction, of that there is little doubt. But we must be sure that the eye we are poking is the one which first gave offense. Even so, we must be compelled toward reluctance lest we give away a small sliver of our progress as humans.

I’m conflicted about the death penalty in ways I can’t accurately express, for reasons anyone who has ever suffered loss will understand. It is precisely because of that loss I would hope that those on the other side of the coin are guided by a higher cause.

Whimsical

I Didn’t Write the Rules

04/11/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

In terms of creativity…

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I forgot to complain about the anti-vaxxers while I was up on the rantbox. I’m hoping you guys remember that they are always on the periphery of my general scorn.

“The price of living a long life is indeed a tortured mind.” -x

Make sure you’re getting all the qualifications right, or you’ll be married to the high school quarterback instead of the prom queen. Cheap is good but quite often is the worst choice.

Snarky observation perhaps, but society voted on this.

Springdale, Travel

Hogeye Marathon and Water Balloon Extravaganza

04/08/2017 X Teri Leave a comment

The Hogeye Marathon is today in Springdale. Last year’s male winner ran the 26-mile course in 2 hours and 59 minutes – which is great, considering that I hit him with 4 water balloons along the route. (He can run fast but a car always wins.) I almost got into real trouble until I pointed out that they shouldn’t issue ID numbers for the runners, who conveniently place them on their chests for us to pick them out of the crowd. Since the marathon is passing extremely near my house this year as it runs along Friendship Road, I thought it might be amusing to move the route one block the wrong direction. (My idea to place winner’s tape across the route at each mile marker also failed to earn any accolades.)

One tradition I’m definitely doing again this year is dressing like a runner and going out to do the post-interviews that local TV stations insist on doing. It usually takes them a couple of minutes to realize that I didn’t actually compete in the race – most often about the same time they look at my stomach fighting to stay confined in spandex shorts. One of these days I’m going to make it onto the news, because you can only show the same clichés a few hundred times until they become stale. “A marathon is a race against oneself,” and “Running is a lifestyle” sound great, just like “Ice, Ice Baby” until your ears start bleeding from repetition.

“Running is a mental sport and you’d have to be mental to run a marathon.” This was the motto I submitted to the Hogeye team this year. Instead of using it, I got a cease-and-desist letter, wrapped around a brick, tossed through the living room window. They didn’t even consider the new logo I proposed: a chalk outline of a body on the sidewalk.

The Hogeye Marathon is supposedly a boon for local tourism and since it moved from Fayetteville to Springdale this year, I hope this is true. Most of the folks on the east side of town only see people running when a large animal is chasing them; I’m afraid they’ll wrongly assume that some sort of apocalyptic event is underway if they see a mass of white people running through the streets.

I used to run when I was younger and I appreciate the stamina needed to run 26 miles. Please keep that in mind if the water balloons start flying this morning. The flyer says to ‘stay hydrated,’ and it should have been more specific as to the methodology.

Springdale did well in snagging this event and I hope everyone has as much fun as possible while they are out there demonstrating a strong masochistic tendency.

Runner’s Video