Right Coast, Right Handed, Right Brained Rambling v1.2

Lately, my brain has kind of gone into overdrive. I don't know what it's caused by - perhaps the regular exercise I've been getting (I can now fasten my belt one or two holes more than a month ago - although my ankles, knees, and shins constantly ache due to my flat feet); maybe it's because I've cut back drastically on both my caffeine and beer intakes (both due to the better fitness level I'm working on); or it might even be that the shortened photoperiod a la oncoming winter has kicked my brain into short days/stuck indoors mode. Anyway I look at it, the voices (yes, voices, you're just jealous that they only talk to me) have become almost as long winded and random as Colonel Kurtz from"Apocalypse Now", minus the thinly veiled threats of violence and discussions of dismemberment.

Now comes the part where I open up and share some of my recent meanderings over absolutely nothing resembling significance, deep thought, worldliness, or relevance - unless those all mean the same thing. In which case just pick your favorite word out of the list.

The horror...

While reading Newsweek, I think, a while back (Thank you, Gar), I caught a snippet about a guy who made a stuffed animal a day for a year as an effort to do something creative every day. And his stuffed animals were rad, resembling no creatures that have walked the earth. Ever. He said his motivation was brought about by a friend who had set out to record a new blues song every day in order to become a better musician. People are out there stoking the creative fires daily, while I sit idly spinning my wheels, exercising none of the creative gifts I might have. Of course, I can hardly hang too much blame on myself - not until someone invents a 28 or 30 hour day. There's just not enough time to:

• Wake Up
• Shower
• Take dog outside to poo
  
• Breakfast/Coffee/Tea
• Make lunch for Ethan and myself (not everyday...)
• Go to work, watch cells fall into tubes, eat lunch, go home
• Help with squirt watching
• Go for a jog
• Get Ethan to bed
• Take dog out to poo
• Watch TV
• Read before falling asleep
• Sleep

In a day as it is. But the hunger's still there - I'd love to be able to put aside an hour a day to "study" guitar (as in learn some more theory, styles, actually improve...), sketch, paint, something! Heck, I'd love to put aside an hour a day just to reread some of my old science text books so that I can better understand the strange language that everyone at work speaks - 90% of which I was fluent in at one point, but fell out of my head at the end of each respective quarter at school. How do parents find time to do stuff? Is it selfish to want to?

Lately I have been doing some reading - mostly because I can squeeze somewhere between 10-45 minutes of it in when I go to bed. And I've been reading some wonderful, mostly Sci Fi books. Right now, I'm reading Chapterhouse: Dune, an accomplishment that I share only because I've started reading the Dune series about four different times, starting at about age 14, and just recently have I gotten past the first three or four books. The great thing about them is that they are oddly prophetic - international/national economies built with precious natural resources bought from afar at high prices, many nods to Islam, discussion of fallibilities of governments. Definitely Sci Fi for the cerebral person.

Cindy and I watched "The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy" the other night. It was an okay movie, but ultimately just another bloated Hollywood attempt at raping a few dollars out of much loved stories. Who makes the decisions that ruin so many of the books that I've admired? I can't even to begin to count how many times vividly painted mental imagery has been trashed by translation to the big screen. Usually Tom Cruise, Nicholas Cage, or Bradley Pitt are to blame...

Speaking of Nicholas Cage, WTF is up with naming his kid after Superman? Personally, I despise the guy and most of the movie's he's made - "Adaptation" being the sole exception (Okay, he did have a bit part in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High"). But why brand your offspring like that? It doesn't help that I have to imagine that poop eating mouth muttering "Hey... Kal-el...getcher dad another beer...wouldja?"

I've been pondering a conversation between Homer and Grandpa Simpson, in which Homer asks Grandpa something about keeping up with the times, and Grandpa replies to the effect that he used to be "with it," but then "with it" became something else that he didn't understand and was wierd. This is something that I'm dealing with. I'm somewhat of an audiophile - it kind of goes with the territory of being a timewasting, guitar playing, retarded minkey. But I just don't "get" half the messiness that's on the radio now. Some of it's awesome. Most of it is utter crap. I don't just not like it, it makes me want to commit war crimes against the people responsible for creating it. Even some bands that I liked in a past life fall in to this category - the more recent offerings from some great bands of the 90's is rubbish. When did this happen? Is it a result of my not being "with it?" Or have I just developed more discerning tastes? Or ar the kids these days just morons that listen to retarded music? I'll spend my time listening to 70's rock, 80's alternative, and early 90's metal until I get it figured out...

Okay, I've temporarily exhausted myself. I'll be back with more, later...May even post an Arthursday3 before I go home today.