Whimsical

Colors? Normal? There Are No Real Rules

I’ve written several different ways about our tendency to choose the visually boring, usually due to a misguided belief that ‘normal’ is a real thing or that another person’s aesthetic should set our standard for us. Some of it is our growing expectation of perfection, which is laughable to me. Chaos and entropy always get the veto in our lives, yet we tread on this planet as if they don’t. Concepts of beauty, style and even art evolve. No matter how much you strive for ‘the look,’ your clothes, houses, cars and hair will all fall from fashion.

Sometimes, bland is easier, but sometimes it isn’t. We have to exert more effort to make things look ‘normal’ or ‘appealing,’ instead of allowing the different style to flourish. Just as I think that a broken voice is usually more interesting to hear, I think we lose much of our individuality through adherence to imagined rules about what looks good.

Whether it is the dark blue paint on our bathroom walls, a metal ceiling in the bathroom, wood trim made from abandoned tree limbs (and then painted yellow), shoes deliberately mismatched, or clothing of multiple colors, I think we do ourselves a disservice.

Occasionally, I’ll have an insight wherein I realize that I have once again drifted away from interesting for no other reason than to look ‘normal.’ This word almost universally translates into boring and without creativity.

Our tombstones should be distinct, without symmetry. The cars we drive should be as differentiated as wildflowers and the colors we choose should be infinite.   But somehow we persist in painting the world in that horrible shade of “Desert Tan.” Blah.

 

Whimsical

Irrelevant Blog Post Title Goes Here

“Propaganda masked as news, ignorance disguised as politics & greed dismissed as capitalism are the woes that plague us.” – Internet

“It is no accident that those who scream the loudest for you to speak only when you have something positive to say are usually the ones with the most interest in keeping you quiet.” -x

“Once you’ve stood on the shore of a vast ocean, you have no need to smell the pond.” -x

Politics, Social Rules

Pro-Choice

As an avowed liberal, it should come as no surprise that I am pro-choice.

Having said that, I don’t like the horrid labels of “pro-choice” or “pro-life.”

We are either for abortion (whether we are totally in agreement or not) or against it.

Stop clouding the subject with misleading political speech. Stop trying to control the negativity that comes with either opinion.

Abortion is a terrible choice. I find it hard to imagine that people take the choice lightly.

It’s easy to judge people, isn’t it?

I wish that the conservative crowd would also FUND an alternative whereby anyone who would forego an abortion would be provided for during their pregnancy, as well as having an adoption arranged. A true alternative, rather than rhetoric.

What I find most interesting is that absent a disaster, we will one day control every aspect of procreating. I’m convinced of it, based on an optimistic view of humanity’s ability to survive.

From the internet: “Abortion is another issue that gets conservatives all worked up. Look, no one likes abortion. I’m pro-choice but I’m not a fan of abortion. I am, however, a supporter of giving women the right to choose what it is they want to do with their own body. Would God agree with abortion? I sure as heck don’t know. But guess what? Neither do Republicans. There’s not a single person on this planet with a direct link to God, getting play-by-play analysis of what is and isn’t right.”

General

Resolved: Leaving Inappropriate Drinkers In the Closet

Unlike many people, I hold the belief that alcoholics don’t say things they don’t mean when drunk. Rather, they says things that they otherwise couldn’t say. Alcohol removes one’s inhibitions. If Mel Gibson decides to rant when questioned by police, it is likely that he holds a secret in a bigoted corner of his mind. Alcohol didn’t mix up the crazy batch of ideas in his head – it uncaged them and convinced him to let them fly.

I have no problem with light-hearted, good-natured drinking on a very infrequent basis. But to expect me to willingly tolerate much of it is an abuse on me. Most people who have drink excessively simply don’t see themselves as behaving like baboon asses. The alcohol convinces them of their wittiness, intelligence and social popularity.

Most of the time, I just can’t stand being around people drinking. It has caused me problems throughout my life to be increasingly unable to be around it. It had led to countless fights, gunshots and broken relationships.

For a rare few, alcohol allows them to be social and to be quite entertaining without crossing the line of baboonassery. They are the miraculous few drinkers. The issue is that most alcoholics think that they aren’t misbehaving or irritating people. 

I grew up surrounded and imprisoned by alcoholics. Don’t get me wrong, they were outnumbered by the boring rank and file normal people. But like an apple with a worm, I don’t focus on the good part of the apple I’ve eaten – I focus on the rotten, nasty taste and the partially-eaten worm in my mouth. It’s a more natural response, isn’t it? When you’re young, you aren’t allowed to hurl the apple into the yard with disgust. No, you are required to sit on couch and eat one after another, regardless of the consequences.

People who drink too much with frequency usually have a horrible hole in their lives that can’t be filled. Whether it is a disease is up to the “experts” on the matter. For whatever reason they drink, their “right” to do so ends when it affects other people negatively and avoidably. This means that I don’t have to be around you if you are going to excessively imbibe. I don’t have to listen to you ramble on incoherently about whatever subject gets lodged in your head.

Expecting me to ‘grin and bear it’ is unacceptable. I think that hitting you on the head with a skillet is a more productive response. And it solves future recurrences, too.

Since I’m going off on a tangent… Every once and a while, I experience someone suffering from living with an alcoholic or excessive social drinker. The drinker acts stupidly and immaturely. The person stuck with the drinker is forced to smile and pretend that everything is okay and the he or she isn’t embarrassed by the drinker’s antics. If you try to point this out to either the drinker or the person suffering from the presence of the drinker, it is as if you have accused someone of murder. The retaliation is immediate and fierce. Part of the code of silence of drinking is that you are made to look like an ass for alleging that there’s a problem. 

Adding the element of love to the equation of excessive drinking sets my proverbial goat on fire, too. Just because you are family to someone doesn’t permit you to excuse abuse under the guise of “drinking too much.” You choose to drink too much. You choose to get angry and violent when drinking. You choose to get into a motor vehicle and hurt and kill people. You should be held 100% accountable for what happens when you are drinking. Just trying to use the alcoholic excuse should earn you a severe beating – just for bringing it up.

That I am a member of your family earns exactly ZERO free points to be drunk around me. You have the right to drink like an idiot, but not to do it in my presence if I don’t want. Please don’t turn the issue around on me when I leave the room or house without explanation. I don’t owe you one.

As I age and look back on my life, I’m disappointed in myself for tolerating it when I clearly shouldn’t have. I can’t alter those previous decisions. But I can overcome the fear or hesitation NOW, can’t I? If someone is drinking too much in my presence it will be responsibility to either leave the area where the stupidity is occurring or break the social barrier and confront the drinker. Confrontations with drinkers work out more elegantly if you wait until the drinker is sober. He or she will do anything to get away from the accusatory conversation. No one wants to eat a gallon of ice cream and then be forced to have the empty reminder in your lap for the next two hours.

Resolved: zero tolerance to be in the presence of inappropriate drinkers.
Minimalism

05292012 I Didn’t Know I Was Already a Minimalist

I might be a minimalist, but at times I can get a little crazy. One of my favorite cousins wanted a hard-to-find cookie. Instead of a sleeve, I got him an entire case to celebrate.

All my life I have used the “6 month or a year rule” to throw things out. Even when I didn’t actually throw it out, it  didn’t control my emotions. I could throw things out without much consideration.

Granted, one of my weaknesses used to be electronics and related supplies. At one point, I had 1/2 a decently-sized closet full. They didn’t get in the way of anything but it was an unnecessary amount of “just in case” philosophy in action.

Having lost my stuff several times in fires probably deserves some of the credit, too, though. After watching Hoarders, it occurred to me that most of the crazy hoarders on the show use loss as an excuse to be a packrat. In my case, the opposite happened.

Another thing about me is that I NEVER sell things that I no longer want. There were a couple of exceptions when I was younger and I hated it, especially in one case when the TV I had sold went out almost immediately on a friend from work. If I have things that I no longer use, I give them away. I’ve given away treadmills, recliners, computers, DVD players, all while in good condition. I’m not saying that for a pat on the back. I’m saying it because I think it’s the best way. Unless you are starving or desperately need the money, giving your stuff to people who will use it is the best possible option for everyone.

Most minimalist sites seem to encourage you to sell your stuff – and that’s fine for most people. At least you are getting rid of it. But what better way to get a boost by surprising someone with “free” ?

Lately, without any fanfare, I have been throwing at least 1 thing a day away, usually more than 1. I’ve done it for three months now.

My wife knows that I am cleaning out or organizing but I don’t think she knows how far it has went. There have been many items that I have simply tossed when I should have given them to someone. An example would be the Gem Saloon whiskey glasses. But my desire to rid myself of them couldn’t be ignored, so I tossed them when the urge struck.

Likewise, I discarded almost 1,000 pictures this week. I scanned anything I wasn’t absolutely sure about, just in case. I backed them up on another computer and in the cloud before actually tossing them. But it’s yet another box in the closet that will no longer be there.

Personal

Performing Marriages in Arkansas

Even though many people don’t understand it, I had long wanted to be able to perform marriages. After months of procrastinating, I recently finished all the paperwork, went to the courthouse, and became “legitimate,” so to speak. The State of Arkansas decided to allow me to pay the fees and register to perform marriages.

It still seems surreal to me. Literally speaking, I now have minister credentials. It will be interesting to see how a few people respond.   On the other hand, there were a couple of people who never offer anything other than criticism – their derision was to be expected. Those who would be malicious in their criticism are the same people who make weddings sometimes hideous spectacles instead of a simple joining of two people

Part of my reluctance was due to my cousin Jimmy who has been ill for well over a year. He had been putting off getting married. I had told him to let me know when he was going to tie the knot. Although I might be wrong, I think my sudden ability to do weddings might have pushed him along somewhat.

Whether I ever perform a marriage or not, it is no longer a question of getting the details accomplished. I would hope that I might help people see that there’s no need for expensive, complicated weddings. When the hoopla of the event fades, all that is left is the daily routine and, hopefully, lasting love and patience to temper it. Daily life exacts an angry toll on most people.

Writing

Language Bully- Article on Slate

Language Bully Article on Slate

As I’ve aged, I have started to learn that arguing over language or words can be fun, especially if I learn something. One thing I hate about myself if I catch myself doing it, though, is being one of the asshats mentioned in the Slate article linked above.

As Matthew J.X. Malady writes: “Those who use their advanced knowledge to embarrass or humiliate others are the absolute worst. Yet, for whatever reason, language bullies don’t seem to get this, or they don’t care. Either way, they are out there at this very moment, lurking, lying in wait, ready to pounce. (They know you used the word nonplussed improperly the other day, and you will be hearing from them shortly. So prepare to feel dumb.)”

To avoid most encounters with language bullies, all you need to do is to avoid internet forums, comment sections, and similarly anonymous writing. I’ve learned that most language bullies don’t really practice their art directly to one’s face. Some of it is due to the realization that they know they are being asshats and the other part is that being clever in person is devilishly hard to do in real time. 

The goal for all of us should be to wait until a language bully emerges and lashes out. At this point, our efforts should be focused toward pointing out the stupidity of their attempt and making them feel as if they are on the defensive. Not because they are right or wrong, but whether they are behaving right or wrong.

It will make language more fun for us all.

Minimalism, Whimsical

03052012 Wall Murals For Your Home + “CrazyWall”

Linnaea Mallette     http://goo.gl/uxzm5M  I know this is an outdoor mural, but imagine something such as this inside your house.

The older I get, the more I am intrigued and even convinced how much more interesting our lives could be if we would have wall murals in our houses. Murals are great along public walls, in restaurants or in art galleries.

As an addition to one’s home, I think they could not only be interesting, but a cheaper alternative to traditional walls, paintings or decorations. Granted, I would prefer ones painted by members of the family, friends, co-workers, etc. Otherwise, support an art student or local artists by giving them permission to do the best they can, or even to surprise you.  Murals can be “fixed” with a coat of paint. That’s not true of most decoration or style ideas in a house.

I know that we are supposed to be trapped and confined by our irrational obsession with “home value” and treat our lifeboxes as if they are nothing more than an investment to be devoid of interesting quirks and adornment. (By the way, I think “Lifebox” would be an ideal alternate name for the word “house.” It almost mocks the nature of what a residence is versus what it could be…)

(Another sidenote: we could convince HGTV to start another word’s creation: Crazywall. It would be used to indicate that an area or space has been deliberately done in a creative, crazy way.)

Wall Murals to Spark Your Imagination! (Click)

Death

People You Despise Are Going to Outlive You

The title of this post seems rather obvious. But it’s not. Being around so much personal death in the last year has beaten this into my head.

You know that person that just drives you nuts to think about? She could be the one who seems holier-than-thou at church. Or he could be the guy who does no work, gossips, and then acts like everyone is out to get him.

These people will probably outlive you. They might publicly claim that it is a shame to hear of your death. But, secretly, there are those people who will internally rejoice in your passing or have feelings of relief that you are no longer sharing oxygen with them on this planet.

And that’s okay in the scheme of things.

I think this is absolutely true for almost everyone. I really do – and it’s probably unavoidable.

You should take a moment and think of the person you most dislike and visualize this person sneering at you after you are gone. It won’t make you feel better, but it will give you a glimpse of the utter futility in wasting your life or worrying about people and things beyond your control.

Biographical, Personal

06252014 James Arthur Terry aka Uncle Buck aka Buster aka Arthur (Another Story About Names…)

Al Johnson and James Buck Terry

40th Reunion Picture (Note he used “Arthur” again the picture)

My paternal uncle James Arthur Terry was one of those people who experienced the weirdness of name issues. I always called my dad’s brother “Uncle Buck.” Even though his dad (my grandfather) was also named James Arthur Terry, no one ever put a “Junior” on my uncle’s name. At risk of offending the family revisionists, he did not understand why my birth name had been botched so badly or why my mom and dad added the “Jr.”

Throughout my Uncle Buck’s school years, he used “Arthur” as his first name, even though James was his actual first name. Below is a picture from his high school graduating class. He’s the third from the right on the very bottom.

Brinkley, Arkansas 1951 Senior Class

It wasn’t until he moved away that he started using “James” or “Jim” in any real sense, not when he had a choice.

My Uncle Buck also named my cousin Jimmy, his son with his second wife “James,” but used “Lawrence” as his middle name to avoid any issue with the “Junior” nonsense. My cousin Jimmy didn’t like the name “James” very much and preferred Jimmy. Adding even more oddness to the story, my first cousin Jimmy names his only son Noah James Terry, reversing the first and last names of his aunt’s husband James Noah.

While many people called him “Buck,” much of the Brinkley family called him “Buster” instead of “Buck” or “James.” I can’t remember why those chose yet another name over either of the most common alternatives.

James Arthur Terry and his first wife and 3 kids
James Arthur Terry and one of his favorite trucks, in Memphis, TN