This blog may contain graphic nature and reader discretion is advised:
I am certain I am aging myself right about now,(or maybe my parents just bought the aftermarket complete season set, well after my birth) but do you remember the TV Show “Mel’s Diner”?
With Flo, the sassy red beehived hair gawky woman with the attitude? Then you had Alice, the single mom that did everything right and held everyone together and of course the one chick I cant think of her name, but was afraid of everything? Remember that one? Oh and of COURSE there was Mel - the Dadish figure that tried to be a hard ass but was nothing less than a sweaty greasy super nice fella that was very protective and always did the right thing in the end. OK, so THAT’S Mel’s Diner in a nut shell.(like today’s diners minus the sex, scandal and decieit)
So IF………
So IF life was like a Diner this is how it would roll.(or rather rolls)
She pulls her pencil from her ear, shifts her hips and cocks her head to one side while looking at the ceiling, “ARE YOU READY TO ORDER?”. Gum snapping and the shine on her forhead tells you she means business.
This is LIFE’S DINER? You kiddin me?!?!?!
I been ready to order from here my WHOLE life.(I rub my hands together and patter my feet under the table in anticipation)
For the children I would like two all you can eat life buffets with your side salad of wisdom - go easy on the embarassment please. It will be all they can ever possibly eat with minimal indigestion.
I will take three soup de jour’s. I understand you are serving that famous one, the “Do Over” soup, only served in politics and Hollywood. Mmmm I can taste the hearty goodness! Warms my confidence.
My youngest son would like a glass of Lotto, with no ice to keep his heart from chilling with his new money. And if it wouldn’t be TOO much to ask could you squeeze a lemon zest in it so he knows how to detect bitterness? Thank you.
My oldest would prefer a very hot steamy cup of jet black “can’t see the whole world” brand coffee. This way he can sip it, a little at a time and sweeten it to his desire. Please offer him a LARGE spoon for sugar so he can add his own world sweetness as he sees fit. It will be a perfect blend.
For myself, I would love a sautéed stuffed love heart. That’s sounds DELISH!!!!! Should I choose to sample some stuffing there is always more room for the “good stuff” and the sautee will certainly keep it tender. Whatever you do, don’t burn it. Just ruins the taste! BLAIK! ICKA!
And for my drink? I would love a room temp glass of whatever “trust red” you have to offer. I am certain you can choose it and will enhance my heart entrée allowing the flavors to dance! Go ahead, you choose it.
And lastly, for dessert, I think we will all agree on ONE plate of Greedless Homemade Pie! You can’t make that in a factory! 3 small spoons please, we want to savour every taste and fill out bellies with peace.
After a glorious meal ,the bill comes.
With the grand total shocking us all that reads:
Pay with Love and Compassion
We Don’t Accept Contempt
Gratuities in the form of THANK YOU only
WHAT A MEAL!
So IF life was like a diner, I would watch Flo’s awkward gait from table to table and listen to Alice’s banter of morals and truth. Mel would protect us and serve ANYTHING our heart desired. And the scared chick, who’s name I can STILL not recall would remain scared and skiddish and likely never ATE at the this diner.
It’s fun to think about.
ANYTHING on the menu.
Bellied up.
Heart on your sleeve and
An empty cup…………
She pulls her pencil from her ear, shifts her hips and cocks her head to one side while looking at the ceiling - “ARE YOU READY TO ORDER?”
The menu is yours!
Order up!
Or would you miss the meal in the famous LIFE’S DINER and exclaim,
“KISS MY GRITS!”
(Oh, I just noticed my disclaimer at the beginning, the "graphic nature" - I meant that for another blog I am working on.......writers marketing ploy)
Monday, June 29, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Anyone know where I could get shitstick?
We all have a “Shitstick” in our lives.
Let me elaborate(and maybe I don’t have to)
MY Shitstick(I have yet to drop the capitalization from the name - but could soon be forth coming) is my ex-husband married for 14 years / divorced 8 who absconded from every tid bit of lives responsibility and fatherdom.
This is my open letter to my, and all the worlds Shitsticks out there.(they could make a small country)
If after reading this you exclaim with a gasp “THAT’S NOT ME!” - um sorry buddy, it IS you. And it’s ok - you STILL have a capital “S” in front of your title - but that’s about all you have.
Dear Shitstick,
Thank you for not being there for our children. Thank you for being in town for days on end and not even so much as calling our darling boys. Thank you for not driving by the house to see our 6 year old sitting on the radiator watching, waiting, hoping and jumping up with every headlight he saw thinking it was you picking him up when you said you would.(mini over nighter case packed, school papers ready to show off, a snack JUST in case you didn’t have any and of course a favorite movie HE didn’t even like, but thought YOU would) Thank you. You have taught him patience in the hardest way possible, but to this day remains the most patient person I know.
Thank you Shitstick for not being there for the shots, doctors and dentists. Your AFTER words of “suck it up” have really taught them to hold tighter to the hands that caress their foreheads. Thank you. They have gained amazing strength and toned arms. What would they do with out you?!
Thank you for showing up for the graduations and tossing some money in their hats. Their cup overflowed but their emotional fund was bankrupt! Thank you for allowing them to learn how to find fulfilling things, great friends and kind words to fill that void. They are better for it.
And most of all thank you for ignoring their needs and wants. Placing yourself before them, making sure they completely understood that a dinner invite was to show them off to your family and friends. It has certainly taught them hands on how politicizing works. They will make GREAT public speakers and the bomb at being meeters and greeters. Or they could put it to good use and become movie star agents, work to make them GLAM regardless of the sham. Oh they would do so well!
Thank you for putting your hobbies before them. We have had some GREAT family dinners while you were out, close to home doing all the things you enjoy. We talked about you. They did wonder about you. And we laughed about you…..but mostly at you. You really taught them how to turn lemons to sugar. A good laugh after feeling pain. Certainly an ability they gained. From you.
The boy’s can thank you on their own. They may host a soiree, parade or hire a band in your honor. You have done more for them than you realize and certainly for ME! While you were making new families, kicking dirt on your path’s, sleeping til 3:00 and taking bath’s - they were talking to ME, sharing their thoughts. Talkin about school and the color of their yachts.
So, thank you Shitstick, thanks for not being there. Maybe if you were, I would not have had the opportunity to come to know two of the greatest young men in my life. Watch them, listen to them and learn from them. They have counseled me and taught me what you taught them. Trust the people that are there for you, learn from the people that are not and believe that true love is unconditional. They still love you Shitstick - you just don’t know it. Cause ya missed it. Again, like the time he played drums for the first time or the time he sang in front of his first crowd….you missed it. But I didn’t.
Again thank you. This is my open letter to YOU. All of you that still have a capital “S” in front of Shitstick. Feel good about that “S”!
It’s truly all you got.
But remember: ONE strike of a “cap lock”, a simple key stroke, even that big ole S can be taken away.
OK so poo poo on all the absconding fatherdom folk, dad ignorers and parental fugitives. I don’t feel bad for you. It’s a choice. And when you feel really shitty about being a Shitstick - DON’T! You are doing the right thing - they are still learning, growing and earning!
Keep telling yourself that.
GASP!
“That’s not me!”
Shitstick Quiz:
What is their favorite color?
Who is their best friend?
What hockey team do they adore?
What veggie makes them turn green?
Who was their last crush?
Their favorite meal would be?
Their favorite band is?
They hate what class?
Yeah - your “S” may have just shrunk.
Let me elaborate(and maybe I don’t have to)
MY Shitstick(I have yet to drop the capitalization from the name - but could soon be forth coming) is my ex-husband married for 14 years / divorced 8 who absconded from every tid bit of lives responsibility and fatherdom.
This is my open letter to my, and all the worlds Shitsticks out there.(they could make a small country)
If after reading this you exclaim with a gasp “THAT’S NOT ME!” - um sorry buddy, it IS you. And it’s ok - you STILL have a capital “S” in front of your title - but that’s about all you have.
Dear Shitstick,
Thank you for not being there for our children. Thank you for being in town for days on end and not even so much as calling our darling boys. Thank you for not driving by the house to see our 6 year old sitting on the radiator watching, waiting, hoping and jumping up with every headlight he saw thinking it was you picking him up when you said you would.(mini over nighter case packed, school papers ready to show off, a snack JUST in case you didn’t have any and of course a favorite movie HE didn’t even like, but thought YOU would) Thank you. You have taught him patience in the hardest way possible, but to this day remains the most patient person I know.
Thank you Shitstick for not being there for the shots, doctors and dentists. Your AFTER words of “suck it up” have really taught them to hold tighter to the hands that caress their foreheads. Thank you. They have gained amazing strength and toned arms. What would they do with out you?!
Thank you for showing up for the graduations and tossing some money in their hats. Their cup overflowed but their emotional fund was bankrupt! Thank you for allowing them to learn how to find fulfilling things, great friends and kind words to fill that void. They are better for it.
And most of all thank you for ignoring their needs and wants. Placing yourself before them, making sure they completely understood that a dinner invite was to show them off to your family and friends. It has certainly taught them hands on how politicizing works. They will make GREAT public speakers and the bomb at being meeters and greeters. Or they could put it to good use and become movie star agents, work to make them GLAM regardless of the sham. Oh they would do so well!
Thank you for putting your hobbies before them. We have had some GREAT family dinners while you were out, close to home doing all the things you enjoy. We talked about you. They did wonder about you. And we laughed about you…..but mostly at you. You really taught them how to turn lemons to sugar. A good laugh after feeling pain. Certainly an ability they gained. From you.
The boy’s can thank you on their own. They may host a soiree, parade or hire a band in your honor. You have done more for them than you realize and certainly for ME! While you were making new families, kicking dirt on your path’s, sleeping til 3:00 and taking bath’s - they were talking to ME, sharing their thoughts. Talkin about school and the color of their yachts.
So, thank you Shitstick, thanks for not being there. Maybe if you were, I would not have had the opportunity to come to know two of the greatest young men in my life. Watch them, listen to them and learn from them. They have counseled me and taught me what you taught them. Trust the people that are there for you, learn from the people that are not and believe that true love is unconditional. They still love you Shitstick - you just don’t know it. Cause ya missed it. Again, like the time he played drums for the first time or the time he sang in front of his first crowd….you missed it. But I didn’t.
Again thank you. This is my open letter to YOU. All of you that still have a capital “S” in front of Shitstick. Feel good about that “S”!
It’s truly all you got.
But remember: ONE strike of a “cap lock”, a simple key stroke, even that big ole S can be taken away.
OK so poo poo on all the absconding fatherdom folk, dad ignorers and parental fugitives. I don’t feel bad for you. It’s a choice. And when you feel really shitty about being a Shitstick - DON’T! You are doing the right thing - they are still learning, growing and earning!
Keep telling yourself that.
GASP!
“That’s not me!”
Shitstick Quiz:
What is their favorite color?
Who is their best friend?
What hockey team do they adore?
What veggie makes them turn green?
Who was their last crush?
Their favorite meal would be?
Their favorite band is?
They hate what class?
Yeah - your “S” may have just shrunk.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Relationship Probation
Can you think of the WORST thing your partner, significant other, cherub, can say to you during an argument when they are mad for reasons unknown to you?
OK, lets back up, cause I am SURE a bunch of real KEEN wordage just came to your mind!
I’m not talking about name calling.
We are all familiar with the typical:
Ahole !
Coont!(you KNOW the word I mean and preserve it ONLY for worse circumstances imaginable
Lazy A$$!
Bit&#!
Sl@(!
Li&^!
Shit bag!(I couldn’t find the right “character” keys for that one)
Feel free to add “Effen” in front of ANY of the above.
If you have NEVER called your beloved cherub ANY of those words then stop reading as this. This not a Christian based blog and if you were offended, need to read the self help book called “Let Off Some Steam Pansy” and THEN back to this.
We are all familiar with those nanner nanner nanner playground fighting words.
Following is the worst of the worst - stick with me now well I bring it on!
So we are in the infancy of a relationship and feeling all the day to day pressure of , I live here you live there. A crazy work schedule, kids, sports, pets, Mother’s, more sports, work and Mother again. So you TRY as you may to live carpe diem, but the days become a struggle of exhaustion just trying to keep up and keep things moving relationshiply forward. This particular fella has some serious POST met Barbie trust issues that quickly turned into “blame Barbie for all the things that ever previously pissed me off“ issues.
While taking on the daunting task of working on those issues I did manage to become inspired. I am creating a clothing line called “LadyArmor”. BUY IT! Comes with a complimentary shit shovel that seconds as a handy burying tool.
Not preferring confrontation myself, I standardly retort to the “I understand” and “Is there something I can say or do to make you feel better” jargon. Which he would generally follow with, “You don’t understand” and “I don’t need anyone to make me feel better”. ALRIGHTY, no ground gained and BACK to square MINUS one!
So we are “talk fighting“, he is pissed about an unknown element to me and here is how the conversation goes:
(this is him, if your too dumb to figure it out)
“So I just got back from the woods and did some thinking.”
(and me-now pay attention I’m not doing the HIM and ME crap for the rest of this dialogue)
“Really honey, glad you made it back safe! I am glad you got some think time. I can’t wait to hear about it!”
“I don’t like the lifestyle you’re choosing.” (hear an album screeching?)
“What? What do you mean?” I ask.
“You know what I mean, I don’t have to spell it out.”
“Seriously, what do you mean? I haven’t changed anything. Do you want me to change something? Does this have to do with you sitting in the woods? Did something happen?”
“You’ll live. You’ll be fine and so will I.” he says oh so calmly.
“What are you talking about? I don’t get it. I was just gonna talk to you about shopping weekend plans. How did my lifestyle change?”
“I’ll be ok. I already talked to my family about it.”
Completely confused as to how and where this short conversation turned I revert BACK to an earlier conversation in the day:
“But this morning when I talked to you, you were all excited about the new pair of shoes I got and couldn’t wait to see me! What happened from then to NOW except that you went and sat in the woods to hunt? What happened? Are you mad at me for something? Is that why you wouldn’t send me a text message back?”(he is of the nontexter tribe)
I go on to say, “You told your family WHAT?”(I am clearly getting no sex tonight AND becomming irritated with his game)
“I am fine and you will be too.”
Now I am a little pissy and feeling guilty for something I don’t even know I did or did not do. I am recounting the last several days in my head trying to search for something I may have said, did, changed….nothing comes to mind.
I finally screech after he repeats I will be fine, “I KNOW I will be fine, no one died! What is going on!?!? WHAT is the problem. If you don‘t tell me the problem I can‘t help with a solution or resolution!”
AND HERE IS THE KICKER MY FRIENDS:
"You can figure it out." Let me repeat that, “You can figure it out.” with the added enhancer…”You’re smart enough”
THERE you have it, the worst thing to get thrown at you in a fight!
YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT! ! ! !
“Figure out what? What are you talking about? What did I do? Say?”
“You’re smart enough. I’ll be fine.”
So there it is. I am left in a bewildered pile, scratching my head, reaching for the wine decorker!What did he mean by that? I was really excited to talk to him. Hmmmm I know I splurged on shoes, but THAT wouldn’t put anyone over the edge. I ask the inevitable, “Are you breaking up with me?” In a nut shell he tells me he SORT of is, but isn’t ready to throw in the towel yet. So we are broken up? And guess what the response was?
“YOU FIGURE IT OUT!”
Now if there are ANY men reading this PLEASE tell us the secret of the woods. When you guys hunt and sit in the woods do fairies come sprinkle you with fairy dust that puts shit in your heads? Is it the rotting leaves mold spores that do mental stuff to your brain like a lead paint eating child? Are you eating these rotting moldy leaves possibly creating an allergic reaction? What? I must know.
So you're wondering where this festive night left me. Well, a glass of wine (more like the bottle - after all ,the bottle is a glass in sorts) later and a phone call back to him, I asked him if he was serious he was breaking up with me. And he told me “time would tell“. I ask him if somehow I ended up on PROBATION in this relationship and he readily agreed that I was in fact WAS on probation. AND would certainly let me know when I was worthy enough to proceed. (nut job)
Relationship Probation? What the hell is THAT? I have never heard of that. Is there such a thing? There MUST be cause I am officially a member, victim, client.
Can’t we just go with the demerit system and be done with it?
Help me out here! All my life I have NEVER been put on relationship probation. But here I am. A living testament. I didn’t know how long I will be on “the list” but hope I am not a lifer. They aren’t telling much here, it’s dark and there is no sex. If there are ANY others on Relationship Probation, please contact my office as soon as possible. Are we just here long enough until we “figure it out”? I must know these answers and will pay a reward for ANY information leading to my release.(barter preferred)
Let this be your only warning ladies. Hunting season FAST approaches and your hubby, significant other, cherub, could get sprinkled with fairy dust and/or eat the mold spores from the fallen foliage! BE WARNED!
Figure it out now! You are smart enough! Or you TOO could end up on Relationship Probation!
(note: I have since kicked this “blame Barbie for everything” guy to the curb! Guess I figured it out)
OK, lets back up, cause I am SURE a bunch of real KEEN wordage just came to your mind!
I’m not talking about name calling.
We are all familiar with the typical:
Ahole !
Coont!(you KNOW the word I mean and preserve it ONLY for worse circumstances imaginable
Lazy A$$!
Bit&#!
Sl@(!
Li&^!
Shit bag!(I couldn’t find the right “character” keys for that one)
Feel free to add “Effen” in front of ANY of the above.
If you have NEVER called your beloved cherub ANY of those words then stop reading as this. This not a Christian based blog and if you were offended, need to read the self help book called “Let Off Some Steam Pansy” and THEN back to this.
We are all familiar with those nanner nanner nanner playground fighting words.
Following is the worst of the worst - stick with me now well I bring it on!
So we are in the infancy of a relationship and feeling all the day to day pressure of , I live here you live there. A crazy work schedule, kids, sports, pets, Mother’s, more sports, work and Mother again. So you TRY as you may to live carpe diem, but the days become a struggle of exhaustion just trying to keep up and keep things moving relationshiply forward. This particular fella has some serious POST met Barbie trust issues that quickly turned into “blame Barbie for all the things that ever previously pissed me off“ issues.
While taking on the daunting task of working on those issues I did manage to become inspired. I am creating a clothing line called “LadyArmor”. BUY IT! Comes with a complimentary shit shovel that seconds as a handy burying tool.
Not preferring confrontation myself, I standardly retort to the “I understand” and “Is there something I can say or do to make you feel better” jargon. Which he would generally follow with, “You don’t understand” and “I don’t need anyone to make me feel better”. ALRIGHTY, no ground gained and BACK to square MINUS one!
So we are “talk fighting“, he is pissed about an unknown element to me and here is how the conversation goes:
(this is him, if your too dumb to figure it out)
“So I just got back from the woods and did some thinking.”
(and me-now pay attention I’m not doing the HIM and ME crap for the rest of this dialogue)
“Really honey, glad you made it back safe! I am glad you got some think time. I can’t wait to hear about it!”
“I don’t like the lifestyle you’re choosing.” (hear an album screeching?)
“What? What do you mean?” I ask.
“You know what I mean, I don’t have to spell it out.”
“Seriously, what do you mean? I haven’t changed anything. Do you want me to change something? Does this have to do with you sitting in the woods? Did something happen?”
“You’ll live. You’ll be fine and so will I.” he says oh so calmly.
“What are you talking about? I don’t get it. I was just gonna talk to you about shopping weekend plans. How did my lifestyle change?”
“I’ll be ok. I already talked to my family about it.”
Completely confused as to how and where this short conversation turned I revert BACK to an earlier conversation in the day:
“But this morning when I talked to you, you were all excited about the new pair of shoes I got and couldn’t wait to see me! What happened from then to NOW except that you went and sat in the woods to hunt? What happened? Are you mad at me for something? Is that why you wouldn’t send me a text message back?”(he is of the nontexter tribe)
I go on to say, “You told your family WHAT?”(I am clearly getting no sex tonight AND becomming irritated with his game)
“I am fine and you will be too.”
Now I am a little pissy and feeling guilty for something I don’t even know I did or did not do. I am recounting the last several days in my head trying to search for something I may have said, did, changed….nothing comes to mind.
I finally screech after he repeats I will be fine, “I KNOW I will be fine, no one died! What is going on!?!? WHAT is the problem. If you don‘t tell me the problem I can‘t help with a solution or resolution!”
AND HERE IS THE KICKER MY FRIENDS:
"You can figure it out." Let me repeat that, “You can figure it out.” with the added enhancer…”You’re smart enough”
THERE you have it, the worst thing to get thrown at you in a fight!
YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT! ! ! !
“Figure out what? What are you talking about? What did I do? Say?”
“You’re smart enough. I’ll be fine.”
So there it is. I am left in a bewildered pile, scratching my head, reaching for the wine decorker!What did he mean by that? I was really excited to talk to him. Hmmmm I know I splurged on shoes, but THAT wouldn’t put anyone over the edge. I ask the inevitable, “Are you breaking up with me?” In a nut shell he tells me he SORT of is, but isn’t ready to throw in the towel yet. So we are broken up? And guess what the response was?
“YOU FIGURE IT OUT!”
Now if there are ANY men reading this PLEASE tell us the secret of the woods. When you guys hunt and sit in the woods do fairies come sprinkle you with fairy dust that puts shit in your heads? Is it the rotting leaves mold spores that do mental stuff to your brain like a lead paint eating child? Are you eating these rotting moldy leaves possibly creating an allergic reaction? What? I must know.
So you're wondering where this festive night left me. Well, a glass of wine (more like the bottle - after all ,the bottle is a glass in sorts) later and a phone call back to him, I asked him if he was serious he was breaking up with me. And he told me “time would tell“. I ask him if somehow I ended up on PROBATION in this relationship and he readily agreed that I was in fact WAS on probation. AND would certainly let me know when I was worthy enough to proceed. (nut job)
Relationship Probation? What the hell is THAT? I have never heard of that. Is there such a thing? There MUST be cause I am officially a member, victim, client.
Can’t we just go with the demerit system and be done with it?
Help me out here! All my life I have NEVER been put on relationship probation. But here I am. A living testament. I didn’t know how long I will be on “the list” but hope I am not a lifer. They aren’t telling much here, it’s dark and there is no sex. If there are ANY others on Relationship Probation, please contact my office as soon as possible. Are we just here long enough until we “figure it out”? I must know these answers and will pay a reward for ANY information leading to my release.(barter preferred)
Let this be your only warning ladies. Hunting season FAST approaches and your hubby, significant other, cherub, could get sprinkled with fairy dust and/or eat the mold spores from the fallen foliage! BE WARNED!
Figure it out now! You are smart enough! Or you TOO could end up on Relationship Probation!
(note: I have since kicked this “blame Barbie for everything” guy to the curb! Guess I figured it out)
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Riddles and Relationships
You know that song by Don McLean American Pie?
Bye bye miss American Pie, drove my chevy to the levy and the levy was dry, them good ole boys were drinkin whiskey and wine
You know that one! The one we all HATE when someone karaoke’s, cause it’s like 8+ minutes.(WE want OUR turn buddy!)
Bye bye miss American Pie, drove my chevy to the levy and the levy was dry.
You know it.
Well, Don also croons and is ALL about “the day the music dies” and then goes into riddles enticing us figure out WHO and WHAT group he is crooning about. It tortures the person that revels in trivia, and tantalizes the person that MUST find the truth. We just gotta figure it out. Cause once I learn the hidden messages Mr. McLean is sending us, I have the world conquered. My friends will be so jealous! My sister will hold her fist high, in honor of my resolve. I may get a certificate! Is there a prize in this? Or will I hold the KEY to...the key...the golden key...to a song.
Well, we treat relationships similar to the way we react to the American Pie song. Most of us. Ok, maybe just me, but I am not picking on me.
We start out in a relationship and everything is bliss and glory. We LIKE the tune we learn the lyrics. We hum the sweet melody in our head day and night. Over and over. Oh yeah - I know this song. It’s sweet.
Shhhh the chorus! La da da da la da
Ahhhh so lovely.
At some point, and I can’t pin point when the ball drops, we start dissecting the relationship. Pick, pick, picking it apart. There MUST be hidden meaning and we have to get to the bottom of it. All the sudden we think EVERYTHING is symbolic or has a message beneath the surface. We tend to turn it into a negative thing. We are diggers by nature.
EXAMPLE:
What did he mean when he said “That color doesn’t look good on you?”
Does he not like the color or does he just think I am not attractive?
NO! He just thinks the color doesn’t look good on you, idiot. He didn’t say “You make me want to puke in that color take it off I am getting warm spit!”
You should KNOW he would take you out in ANY color and still wants to haul your ashes!
He just pulled up outside and didn’t come in to get me. Am I not worth 20 steps?
YOU ARE! He was OBVIOUSLY listening to the end of a song you guys heard one night and it brought back memories. Maybe he was on the phone with YOUR Mom wishing her a happy day.
And maybe it just meant you should be READY and get your ass outside and stop analyzing.
See where I am going with this?
EXPLANATION:
There is NO hidden meaning like the goddamn song! It’s your “relationship“. And seriously, have half a mind to call ole Don McLean and ask, “Why the hell didn’t you just write the song without the riddles”?
But I already know the answer.
You wanna KNOW why he didn’t write it without the riddles?
He didn’t write the song without the riddles because WE most likely would NOT have been intrigued by it. Loved it so much. Wanted to learn it. Sing it. Play it. It would be black and white with NO rainbow factor. Nothing to WONDER about. Bite your lip about. Raise your eyebrow about.
JUST because we know, and have learned our loved ones “song and lyrics” we shouldn’t look for the negative stuff. Don’t dissect it when you KNOW the chorus. We can all sing the chorus cause it’s familiar to us. We know it! On a bad day, on a good day - it remains the chorus. It makes us turn up the radio and smile. The rest of the riff will be shared over time……….the rainbow factor.
When he is across the room and in a heavy conversation and winks at me, he is thinking about me(and likely my boobs)
When he runs back in the house because he “forgot” something and gives me one more hug, we KNOW he really just wanted the extra hug.
When he hits SNOOZE it’s not because he is tired. He just want 7 more minutes wrapped in my arms.
The moral is...we can search and FIND hidden negative meaning in JUST about anything if we waste our lifeblood picking it all apart. But why waste all that time? The rainbow factor is a pretty cool thing. It’s a song, it’s a rainbow, it’s a person. YOUR person.
And ole Don was wrong anyway. The music NEVER did die ahole! What about the 80‘s hair bands!
hum the tunes,
like the lyrics,
sing the sweet chorus
in my head day and night.
Over and over.
That’s the rainbow factor.
Appreciate it.
(this is my “in case Don McLean reads this” disclaimer: Don, Thank you for sharing your talent with all of us. I personally have enjoyed your song and certainly KNOW the lyrics. I must also add I have been tormented by it and have spent useless time researching the hidden meaning in your songpoem, when I could have been falling in love and picking apart my OWN relationships.)
Bye bye miss American Pie, drove my chevy to the levy and the levy was dry, them good ole boys were drinkin whiskey and wine
You know that one! The one we all HATE when someone karaoke’s, cause it’s like 8+ minutes.(WE want OUR turn buddy!)
Bye bye miss American Pie, drove my chevy to the levy and the levy was dry.
You know it.
Well, Don also croons and is ALL about “the day the music dies” and then goes into riddles enticing us figure out WHO and WHAT group he is crooning about. It tortures the person that revels in trivia, and tantalizes the person that MUST find the truth. We just gotta figure it out. Cause once I learn the hidden messages Mr. McLean is sending us, I have the world conquered. My friends will be so jealous! My sister will hold her fist high, in honor of my resolve. I may get a certificate! Is there a prize in this? Or will I hold the KEY to...the key...the golden key...to a song.
Well, we treat relationships similar to the way we react to the American Pie song. Most of us. Ok, maybe just me, but I am not picking on me.
We start out in a relationship and everything is bliss and glory. We LIKE the tune we learn the lyrics. We hum the sweet melody in our head day and night. Over and over. Oh yeah - I know this song. It’s sweet.
Shhhh the chorus! La da da da la da
Ahhhh so lovely.
At some point, and I can’t pin point when the ball drops, we start dissecting the relationship. Pick, pick, picking it apart. There MUST be hidden meaning and we have to get to the bottom of it. All the sudden we think EVERYTHING is symbolic or has a message beneath the surface. We tend to turn it into a negative thing. We are diggers by nature.
EXAMPLE:
What did he mean when he said “That color doesn’t look good on you?”
Does he not like the color or does he just think I am not attractive?
NO! He just thinks the color doesn’t look good on you, idiot. He didn’t say “You make me want to puke in that color take it off I am getting warm spit!”
You should KNOW he would take you out in ANY color and still wants to haul your ashes!
He just pulled up outside and didn’t come in to get me. Am I not worth 20 steps?
YOU ARE! He was OBVIOUSLY listening to the end of a song you guys heard one night and it brought back memories. Maybe he was on the phone with YOUR Mom wishing her a happy day.
And maybe it just meant you should be READY and get your ass outside and stop analyzing.
See where I am going with this?
EXPLANATION:
There is NO hidden meaning like the goddamn song! It’s your “relationship“. And seriously, have half a mind to call ole Don McLean and ask, “Why the hell didn’t you just write the song without the riddles”?
But I already know the answer.
You wanna KNOW why he didn’t write it without the riddles?
He didn’t write the song without the riddles because WE most likely would NOT have been intrigued by it. Loved it so much. Wanted to learn it. Sing it. Play it. It would be black and white with NO rainbow factor. Nothing to WONDER about. Bite your lip about. Raise your eyebrow about.
JUST because we know, and have learned our loved ones “song and lyrics” we shouldn’t look for the negative stuff. Don’t dissect it when you KNOW the chorus. We can all sing the chorus cause it’s familiar to us. We know it! On a bad day, on a good day - it remains the chorus. It makes us turn up the radio and smile. The rest of the riff will be shared over time……….the rainbow factor.
When he is across the room and in a heavy conversation and winks at me, he is thinking about me(and likely my boobs)
When he runs back in the house because he “forgot” something and gives me one more hug, we KNOW he really just wanted the extra hug.
When he hits SNOOZE it’s not because he is tired. He just want 7 more minutes wrapped in my arms.
The moral is...we can search and FIND hidden negative meaning in JUST about anything if we waste our lifeblood picking it all apart. But why waste all that time? The rainbow factor is a pretty cool thing. It’s a song, it’s a rainbow, it’s a person. YOUR person.
And ole Don was wrong anyway. The music NEVER did die ahole! What about the 80‘s hair bands!
hum the tunes,
like the lyrics,
sing the sweet chorus
in my head day and night.
Over and over.
That’s the rainbow factor.
Appreciate it.
(this is my “in case Don McLean reads this” disclaimer: Don, Thank you for sharing your talent with all of us. I personally have enjoyed your song and certainly KNOW the lyrics. I must also add I have been tormented by it and have spent useless time researching the hidden meaning in your songpoem, when I could have been falling in love and picking apart my OWN relationships.)
Hobbydom and Addiction
We are all addicted.
Now don’t go standing up and throw your tip on the table and click your little remote car starters JUST yet! I did not say that to offend anyone.(those that remain, maybe you are addicted to offense?) OK, with every one out of the room I can now tap the mic and speak freely, like I am singing in the shower with the door locked.
Although I initially chose my cherry popping FIRST virgin BLOG to be about sex - I figured I should start with the basics. I mean most like to HEAR about sex, but no one really likes to comment, add to or critique it publicly.(got to be BRAVE for that….I am egging you on) SO, I am going meat and potato’s, or in this generation couscous and home made pesto!
ADDICTION:
Many people confuse addiction with affliction. An addiction can actually be something healthy. ( I noticed a few of you just sat down and got comfortable again) Let’s look at addiction being a hobby.
Entertain that for a moment.
My “hobby” is baseball. All kinds all sorts. The guys at the office call me baseball boy! Curve ball man! I am SO into baseball! I listen to it in my garage, listen to it in my car. Read it about in the sports section. And HELL YEAH wear my teams baseball jersey on GAME day. Have a greased up, broke in glove! Autographed memorabilia. Cal Ripkin bath matt shower curtain combo. Ya, BASEBALL is my NAME, lil white round ball is my game! No batta No batta SWING batta batta!
DO you play baseball?
What are you kidding?!?!?! I just follow it, it’s my hobby man. I just love it! More than life!
ADDICTION:
I am a shoe whore. I love shoes. They come in so many wonderful different shapes and sizes and can represent a mood or an occasion. I love their texture, smell(new only, I am not a freak) and certainly trying them on. They are an accessory to what could be a so-so outfit, to a necessity for a hard day hiking.
I frickin LOVE shoes.
Do I talk about them at the office? Sure! Do I notice them on other people? YUP! Do I NOT take out the garbage or have a family dinner to have a “love affair” with them? No, can’t say I do. Nor do I miss a birthday, a friends conversation(looking over their shoulder, nodding), or a phone call shopping for them or reading about them. Do I not pay my water bill to have the “latest and greatest”? Not yet.
Are these both addictions? YES! Openly admitted by my sources. Could they also be hobby’s? FOR SURE!
Now don’t all you “sportos” jump my ass. I enjoy sports with the rest of em. And if I loved baseball MORE than I loved shoes I would have reversed the scenerio. Simmer. Just simmer. I could have used 100 other possible “subjects” but these just popped to mind.
BOTH scenerios are “addictions”, however BOTH hold a different level of hobbydom.
So what is your addiction? Baseball, shoes, tidying, booze, control, power, the remote(see power), food, scrap booking, photography, cooking, nicotine, window shopping, buying, coupon clipping, reading, make-up, schooling, music, politics, bug catching, alphabetizing, racing, perfecting. . . Feel free to continue the list - it remains endless.
Using addiction interchangeable with hobby certainly seems more comforting. Hobby being more socially acceptable because by saying wehave a hobby, we are professing we are ACTIVE and into something we love and have a passion for.
But PLEASE consider this:
An addiction is ONLY an affliction(cause of pain or distress) if it impedes on, or allows you to hide from _________ <<
I am not seeing any hands up! ! !
An addiction is ONLY an affliction if it impedes on, or allows you to hide from LIFE.
Addiction, check your level.
There’s a lot out there.
Drop it for a day
and live a little.
But check your level.
Now don’t go standing up and throw your tip on the table and click your little remote car starters JUST yet! I did not say that to offend anyone.(those that remain, maybe you are addicted to offense?) OK, with every one out of the room I can now tap the mic and speak freely, like I am singing in the shower with the door locked.
Although I initially chose my cherry popping FIRST virgin BLOG to be about sex - I figured I should start with the basics. I mean most like to HEAR about sex, but no one really likes to comment, add to or critique it publicly.(got to be BRAVE for that….I am egging you on) SO, I am going meat and potato’s, or in this generation couscous and home made pesto!
ADDICTION:
Many people confuse addiction with affliction. An addiction can actually be something healthy. ( I noticed a few of you just sat down and got comfortable again) Let’s look at addiction being a hobby.
Entertain that for a moment.
My “hobby” is baseball. All kinds all sorts. The guys at the office call me baseball boy! Curve ball man! I am SO into baseball! I listen to it in my garage, listen to it in my car. Read it about in the sports section. And HELL YEAH wear my teams baseball jersey on GAME day. Have a greased up, broke in glove! Autographed memorabilia. Cal Ripkin bath matt shower curtain combo. Ya, BASEBALL is my NAME, lil white round ball is my game! No batta No batta SWING batta batta!
DO you play baseball?
What are you kidding?!?!?! I just follow it, it’s my hobby man. I just love it! More than life!
ADDICTION:
I am a shoe whore. I love shoes. They come in so many wonderful different shapes and sizes and can represent a mood or an occasion. I love their texture, smell(new only, I am not a freak) and certainly trying them on. They are an accessory to what could be a so-so outfit, to a necessity for a hard day hiking.
I frickin LOVE shoes.
Do I talk about them at the office? Sure! Do I notice them on other people? YUP! Do I NOT take out the garbage or have a family dinner to have a “love affair” with them? No, can’t say I do. Nor do I miss a birthday, a friends conversation(looking over their shoulder, nodding), or a phone call shopping for them or reading about them. Do I not pay my water bill to have the “latest and greatest”? Not yet.
Are these both addictions? YES! Openly admitted by my sources. Could they also be hobby’s? FOR SURE!
Now don’t all you “sportos” jump my ass. I enjoy sports with the rest of em. And if I loved baseball MORE than I loved shoes I would have reversed the scenerio. Simmer. Just simmer. I could have used 100 other possible “subjects” but these just popped to mind.
BOTH scenerios are “addictions”, however BOTH hold a different level of hobbydom.
So what is your addiction? Baseball, shoes, tidying, booze, control, power, the remote(see power), food, scrap booking, photography, cooking, nicotine, window shopping, buying, coupon clipping, reading, make-up, schooling, music, politics, bug catching, alphabetizing, racing, perfecting. . . Feel free to continue the list - it remains endless.
Using addiction interchangeable with hobby certainly seems more comforting. Hobby being more socially acceptable because by saying wehave a hobby, we are professing we are ACTIVE and into something we love and have a passion for.
But PLEASE consider this:
An addiction is ONLY an affliction(cause of pain or distress) if it impedes on, or allows you to hide from _________ <<
I am not seeing any hands up! ! !
An addiction is ONLY an affliction if it impedes on, or allows you to hide from LIFE.
Addiction, check your level.
There’s a lot out there.
Drop it for a day
and live a little.
But check your level.
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