Chance Encounters
Here’s a common scenario for you: You’re walking down a hallway, or street, or a store aisle, or in the mall, or whatever venue you happen to be walking in, and suddenly see someone that you know. Now, this isn’t someone you dislike, and don’t want to see. This is an accquaintance or even good pal of yours that for some reason you haven’t seen in a while. I think that all of us have those kinds of friends.
You know what Im talking about, right? These are friends that you don’t really call, and who don’t really call you anymore, not necessarily because you don’t like them, but because your two social circles seemingly fail to intersect on any other points other than you and them. There are certainly friends that you have a feeling are compatible with your friends, anothers that really just aren’t. It’s a difficult-to-explain concept that anyone who has friends seems to understand completely. It’s just one of those “social instincts” that you seem to understand.
Now, back to my scenario.
When you see this friend of yours, the two of you almost immediately are able to engage in conversation, as if there really hadn’t been much of a break. It’s as if, no matter how long it has been between your last meeting, your conversation never really ended. You ask about the goings-on in each other’s lives, but then you’re right back into the thick of news, giving opinions, and because you respect one another, you take each other’s words into real consideration.
Then, because one or both of you has somewhere to be, you go your seperate ways, often with the phrase “We should do something sometime” to cap off the conversation. Now the reality is, despite whatever intentions that either of you might actually have, very rarely does either start the ball rolling to actually initiate a second meeting. Instead, we just fall into step, into our normal routine, content with handling the day-to-day goings-on in our own lives, and we forget about that chance encounter.
But if we do that so often, then why do we even state such an intention at all? Is it simply a part of the social norm? Or is it just because we honestly want to follow through on those intentions, but our human weaknesses make it so that we forget, or realize that doing so is just too much work?
I don’t know. I’m just observing here, and I don’t claim to have a solution. But I do believe that we should really consider the things that we say, and wonder a little bit if we actually plan to do the things that we intend to do, or if we just ignore the chance encounters that we have, the opportunities to rekindle the relationships that we once had.
I’m not one to believe in fate, but I do believe in opportunity. I believe that when a door opens for us, we should really consider taking advantage, and if there aren’t any negative consequences, then we should do it. Life is not living unless we are striving to make it so. Just waking up in the morning does not constitute taking advantage of the day.
Take a chance when it comes your way, because who knows? It could be that that’s just what you needed.
- Kyle
Seeing Past Your Own "I's"
I have a habit of wanting to write, not only when I hear about something interesting, but when I’m angry. Whether I’m angry about life, or just angry about anything, I have this hankering to write something because I just want to get it out of my system. Out of my head, and onto the page, so that whatever it is can be just put to rest, and I don’t really have to think about it anymore. (Though, of course, as any writer knows, that is simply an ideal that never seems to happen.)
When this post was about to be put up, at the time I was in a particularly bad mood. I’d been short-changed by people who I had considered as friends, whom I had taken specific time and effort to do a favor for, and so I was in a rather… “grumpy” mood. I had a friend with me, also in the same boat as I with regards to the situation, who can attest to how thoroughly pissed off I was.
Though I’ve since calmed down and allowed that situation simply to become diluted in my memory, (aside from the occasional inside joke between the aforementioned friend and I), it set my mind off on a course as I thought about how it truly seems to be applying to everyone around me, more and more. It seems as though people have forgotten about who it means to be part of communities, part of friendships, or even part of the human race with regards to their fellow man.
Selfishness seems to be the common course of action, and everything seems to be about getting ahead in whatever way you seem necessary. Manners and forethought for others are virtually a thing of the past, and I don’t think that most people notice it. And this mindset of every-man-for-himself is so common, that when you don’t fit that mold, you’re thought of as strange, odd, and are even shunned slightly for your actions.
When you hold the door for someone as you’re about to walk in, they hesitate, unsure of what you want them to do. When you pause to allow someone into the street who had been waiting for twenty minutes for a clear, everyone behind you starts to blare their horn, wrathfully mourning the precious four seconds that might have been better spent speeding down the two-lane street.
However, if this were limited only to strangers, it would be completely different. I know people who I used to consider friends who have taken this same approach. They don’t look at the world from the perspective of how actions might impact others, nor do they attempt to perceive how their actions might impact another, but instead only live to see what they can gain.
Instead of a worldview, they only see through their own “I’s”, and it bothers me a great deal. How can you really live like that? It sickens me that the common ideal is to simply care only for oneself, and never worry about how the things you do might impact someone else.
Myself, I’m a fiercely loyal person. I not only welcome the opportunity to help others, but I expect them. I look for ways to help my friends. Anyone who has ever been to my home knows that they are welcome, that there are drinks in the fridge, and that there are spare beds in case they need somewhere to stay for the night, or even several. They know that if there is anything that I can do to help them, I’ll be there as soon as I can, even if I have to rearrange my schedule to be there.
Though there have been times where this kind of an attitude have caused me to be taken advantage of, I still feel that it is the only way that I can morally live my life. I was raised by my parents to serve, and to serve always. I look out for myself, and I use my judgment, but when the chips are down, I work to be sure that my friends know they can always count on me.
I suppose that’s why it bothers me so much when others, especially those to whom I’ve shown such loyalty, don’t care enough to show me the same courtesies. I take that kind of neglect personally, and it truly bothers me more than just about anything else. If I care to keep you in my consideration, I would expect you to keep me in yours. Unfortunately, that isn’t always the case.
I guess my point is this, to those of you who are still reading: Who are you looking out for? Is it only for yourself? Can your friends count on you, or are you always scrambling because people can’t depend on you?
Stop just looking through the lens of your own “I’s”, and try taking a glance through someone else’s.
- K
Happily Ever Afters
I think all of us do this at some point. For, me, it’s usually on the highway just because that’s the time when I generally am just sitting, possibly listening to music, or maybe even just sitting in the silence because you’ve listened to all that your iPod has to offer and you just need to give your head and ears a break. (Those of you who have driven 5+ hours in a car can relate, I’m sure.)
In any case, during those times, I start to think a little bit. My mind starts to wander from thought to thought like a feather, until I reach out and grab it and force it to focus a little. The thing is, though, taking the time to ponder things over has always been something that has helped me, not only in my writing and creative thinking, but even just in analyzing a problem. Or, possibly, in helping to make sense of something.
On my most recent long drive, I sat there thinking over a lot of things that have occurred to me in the past year -and-a-half. Well, even in just the past few months things have been a little crazy. What with a new job (read: more pay & more work), and a lot of other responsibilities, I started thinking back to when things seemed a lot simpler.
When I first arrived here in town, I literally knew no one. I didn’t know a soul. I had gotten a job working with youth through some contacts, and was planning on that for the summer, and then back to my hometown in the fall to start up at the community college. I started to get to know people through work, but because of the nature of the job, friends that you made one week might be a few hundred miles away the next, so unfortunately I didn’t make a lot of lasting friendships.
However, I really liked the city, which was odd because it wasn’t really what I’d had in mind. So, instead of going back home, I decided to stay up here and go to school instead. The first day there, I met one of my closest friends. The second day, I met another. Since then, my contact list has branched out more and more, and I realize that I probably made the right decision in staying up here.
The thing is, though, is that the experiences haven’t all been good. Some things have been pretty heart-wrenching at times, some have been trials in frustration and others have pushed me to really be more than I ever thought I would be.
As I think back over those experiences, I realize that they have been for my good, but that they haven’t concluded with the most favorable of endings. As much as I love movies, they are truly not real life. Movies can be judged on whether or not they are “fair” to the audience. The audience expects it to end with all the pieces in place, and with all of the questions answered. If not, it’s not a good movie, and we end up saying “What about this???”
To me, that roots from the fact that our own lives don’t work like that. They violate that kind of thinking, almost at ever turn. Despite the hardships, sometimes you don’t get the job. Sometimes a loved-one’s death occurs for no reason whatsoever. And sometimes she decides to leave you even though all the signs pointed in the other direction.
We live in a world where “Happily Ever After” is sought but very rarely obtained. It’s a cruel, harsh place that will tear you apart and stomp you flat if you allow it. But we still believe that there’s always some “thing” that is going to save us from the trials that we face, despite the fact that every time we get it, we have an empty feeling inside.
I’ve seen the recent film, “The Dark Knight”, four times already. (I’m actually going to go and see it again tonight.) One of the things that I love about the film, (besides Heath Ledgers unbelievable performance), is that the characters are forced to make decisions that actually impact their lives. They are forced into situations where there may not be a happily ever after, and that can be dealt with.
When I went the third time with a friend of mine, he was really put off by the fact that it doesn’t end like the other Batman films – ie, it’s not “happy” at the end. He was put off by the dark nature of the movie, and didn’t like it based on those grounds. I heavily disagreed, pointing out that life can be dark, and often is. It’s the light that we choose to shine that truly makes the difference.
Happily ever after is something that we strive for, that we work towards, and that we work on from day to day. For us, the movie goes on past the credits, and we have to continue to live our lives. Life can be hard, and there’s no getting around that. But, we can make it better, and we can make it happy. We can make our life a life worth living.
And then we might just find that “happily every after’ after all.
- Kyle
The Embers Were Still Burning
I stood near my car, watching the passers-by make their way from place to place, each individual with a solid mission, a goal in mind, from the common goal of making it home for dinner, or something more extreme, each had a purpose in mind as they made their way from the double doors to the parking lot.
The noon-day sun was bright in the sky, and I adjusted the sunglasses on my face, their blue lenses protecting my eyes from the heat of the day. Despite it all, however, it wasn’t my eyes that seemed to warm, but instead a feeling began to permeate my chest. One that I had thought long-gone, not since… I’m getting ahead of myself.
I checked my watch again, the Citizen quietly reminding me of the seconds that were ticking by. There, on my hood, were the two bottles that I’d purchased, sweating in the sun, their chilled contents expressing distaste at having to sit in the heat, but I paid them little heed. After all, if they were sweating, then I knew that I would be, too.
A glance back at the parking meter confirmed that I still had plenty of time, but even so, the anxiety seemed to be growing within me. A subtle nervousness was causing my hand to start to shake, so I hooked my thumb on my pocket, and forced myself to calm down. After all, this wasn’t the first time that I’d seen her.
We’d known each other for nearly two years, actually. But for some reason this felt like the first time all over again. For some reason it felt like I was being introduced all over again, yet my face betrayed no small hint of my inner turmoil. I forced myself to keep my feelings in check, and told myself to just stay calm. After all, she just wanted to talk. It wasn’t like we had never done that before. We saw each other all the time before, but after the semester ended, it had been a while, probably somewhere around two months.
I’d spent the better part of a year adjusting, diminishing the flame that had continued to burn in my heart despite itself, until finally there was nothing but a few small embers to remind me of the bonfire that had scorched me before.
Finally she walked out the door. Like many of the others, she walked with purpose, with a definite stride, but it seemed that she didn’t so much have a goal in mind, but that she was searching. Her gaze wandered about, scanning the area, but I just watched, waiting. I knew that she was trying to find me, but there I was in plain sight, so I waited for the recognition.
When she finally spotted me, she smiled and waved, and I responded in kind. That feeling in my chest pounded slightly, but I suppressed it again, leaving the past in the past. We said our hellos, and started up the conversation as if there had never been a break at all. She spoke of her family, and about how things had been going, and about how her life was treating her. I shared with her the goings-on in my life, from work to ideas to school and family. There was no pause in the conversation, it was just a sense of belonging, a sense that here were two souls who meshed together. We didn’t really have anywhere specific that we were walking, instead it was just whatever spot we happened to be standing on.
And that feeling in my chest continued to hiccup, no matter how many times I kept pushing it down.
Near the end, the conversation turned serious, and I finally realized why she had wanted to talk. I listened with an understanding ear, and agreed with her on every point, at least in my internal responses. But outwardly, I offered the sensible, assuring answers, intentionally not showing the feelings that I truly felt.
And then, with a goodbye and a quick embrace, she was gone, leaving me there wondering where to go. All around me, they continued to walk with purpose, and with a reason. For me, however, the purpose was done. I walked away slowly, holding my head up so as not to betray the feeling in my chest. But inside, I was wracked, as the fire that had for so long been dormant suddenly sprung to life.
I sat quietly in the heat of the sun, and just pondered. I pondered my place, and I pondered my future.
I closed my eyes, and in the darkness of my mind, I swear I could see the glow. In the far recesses of my conscience, I could see the embers.
And those embers were still burning.
- Kyle
Don't Blink, It's Over
I think that it’s strange the feelings that you get. Sometimes something sudden just happens, and you’re not really sure what to feel about it, and then in a moment of sudden realization, you feel a tightness around your heart and you struggle to come to grips with it.
This morning I got a phone call from my family letting me know that a friend had been killed in an auto accident. When I first got the call, I thought of it kind of objectively. Mostly because I didn’t really recognize the name, and so it didn’t seem to be that big of a deal. It was sad, to be sure, but because I hadn’t made that personal connection, my feelings weren’t as concerned.
You see, growing up, I’ve had people pass away in my life before. Often, they’re just acquaintances, people that I’d heard of, etc. As such, again, it was sad, to be sure, but it was still at a distance. It was impersonal, and so I could look at it objectively.
But after getting a second call this morning, I realized who it was. For the sake of anonymity, I’ll call her Marie. I’d really only met her once, when I was asked if she could hitch a ride after a holiday break. At the time, I didn’t know anything about her, but her family was good friends with mine, and so I said that would be fine.
It wasn’t really a huge, life changing drive or anything, and to be honest, I haven’t talked with her since. But when you spend a few hours in a car with someone, you get to talking, and you make a connection. So when I finally realized who it was, my heart kind of hiccuped.
It’s strange to realize just how fragile life can be. With so many things to do, so many different things to see, do, and take care of… Work, school, family, friends, careers, travel… and suddenly it’s just gone in the blink of an eye.
I realize it’s a somber note, but it’s definitely something sobering to realize. I guess it’s just more incentive to live every day like it’s your last.
Cause one day, and you never no when, you’ll blink and it will be.
- Kyle
No Longer Superman
Growing up, I had a wild notion that I was some kind of superman. I believe its a common misconception for kids to think that they’re invincible. They jump out of trees, off the swings, do flips on trampolines, leap their bikes or skateboards off of everything and anything, and often dare one another to eat things that a dog wouldn’t touch. When nothing appears to hurt them, they begin to feel that nothing can hurt them. They may not say that out loud, or even verbalize it in their minds, but it’s there in the subconscious, alive and well.
For someone like me, who really hasn’t had a lot of injuries in my life, it’s hard to think that something so trivial or stupid might be the cause of a crippling injury, or that death might be waiting for me if I do something careless.
Last week, while playing some “group date” games with friends, we decided that we’d make our way to the park and fool around on the playground equipment. We started playing a strange game of tag akin to the games of the schoolyard, and though I found myself wondering how a bunch of twenty-somethings could be acting like kindergarteners, I decided to play anyhow.
I’m pretty competitive. I try to do anything I can to win, doing my best to stay within the rules, but my friends often comment on how I don’t lose very often, and some of them can attest to the times when I take something trivial a little too seriously. (Like, say, a stupid football game, for example.)
With that in mind, we were playing these games, and I found myself trapped on a pretty high part of the playground, and almost got tagged. So, I looked around, and noticed the platform down below, and without a second thought to what was going to occur when I actually hit the ground, I jumped.
Now it’s been a few years since I was the spry, wiry youth who could leap out of a twenty-foot tree and be perfectly fine when I hit the ground. In the instant that I landed, and the pain shot through my ankle, I realized that I was superman no more.
I limped to the parking lot, and later made my way home, icing up my swelling ankle and wrapping it up, hoping against hope that it wasn’t broken or anything. I suspected that it might be a strain, especially because the bruising was so bad, but as I felt it, and realized that the only pain was coming from pressure on my heel, I decided it was probably a bruised heel. I went and had it checked just to be sure, and after x-rays and the like came back, they told me that my suspicious were right, and the heel was bruised.
It was a sobering time for me. How could I have done something so stupid, and for such a stupid reason? How could I have just jumped? Was winning such a trivial game so very important? No, not really. But the illusion of invincibility was completely shattered upon impact, and so I think that’s the best lesson to take away from this. I’m not unbreakable, and my foot tells me so, despite my head telling me otherwise.
- K
Interviewing Myself
I don’t know if this is just unique to me, or if it’s something that a lot of people experience, but I’ll throw out the line and see what kind of catch comes in. I have a tendency, especially when I’m by myself, to hold “mock interviews”, either just in my head, or if I’m at home, out loud. I’ll imagine a question about something that I’m working on, be it a movie project, a story that I’m writing, or even just a graphic idea. While I’m not as delusional to believe that everything I do carries this type of significance, I find myself doing it almost naturally.
I’ve found that this helps in a number of ways. Just by example, say I was in the middle of a writing project, be it a script or prose, and I was having a hard time trying to understand a part of the story, or the motivation of a certain character, or why a certain character even existed. So, I’d start having a dialogue with myself about it, pretending that I was being interviewed by someone about that specific situation, as if it were some special feature on the DVD or maybe a news special.
Going back to the way that I visualize situations, I would see the little movie poster behind me, the red wallpaper as a contrast against my shirt, even sometimes the interviewer, and the cut scenes that were used for overlay with my audio track. What this process brings out for me are the details of the story that I sometimes miss, and often helps me to look at characters or story situations from a different point of view.
I don’t think, though, that this process works exclusively for story-based projects. I use it in my life for a lot of things, be it a difficult decision, or a problem with school, or evaluating a relationship. I think about a lot of things, so it’s kind of hard to identify a) the actual problem or concern, and b) the answer or solution, even when I’ve already seen it.
I guess I just wanted to throw this out and see what you think. Try this out. Give yourself an interview. (By yourself, in private, so that if you think you feel silly, at least no one else is going to be watching.)
- Kyle
Searching For My Equal
Sean: Do you have a soul mate?
Will: Define that.
Sean: Someone you can relate to, someone who opens things up for you.
Will: Sure, I got plenty.
Sean: Well, name them.
Will: Shakespeare, Nietzsche, Frost, O’Conner…
Sean: Well that’s great. They’re all dead.
Will: Not to me, they’re not.
Sean: You can’t have a lot of dialogue with them.
Will: Not without a heater and some serious smelling salts.
- Good Will Hunting, 1997
Something that I’ve been thinking about lately, especially considering the recent passing of Valentine’s Day, is relationships. More specifically, marriage and relationships, and the difficulty of the whole process. I mean, now we’ve got online dating services, phone chat lines, matchmaking sites… It’s not like singles aren’t throwing out their lines, but its hard to really catch the one that you’re looking for.
In all honesty, dating really is a lot like fishing, when you think about it. Most of your catches really are “under the water”, and you can’t ever see any of them up close until you finally reel them in. Then, you see if it’s what you’re looking for, and if it’s not, then you throw it back into the water. But unlike fishing, you tend to get a whole lot more precise about the qualities that you’re looking for when you’re dating.
For those of us who aren’t planning on being eternal bachelors, I’m talking about more than just physical appearance. We’re looking for things like attitudes, likes and dislikes, and certain personalities. It’s not like we’ve got a complete mental checklist, but there’s certain items that we really want met if we’re going to go forward with an actual relationship.
What I’m having trouble with, though, is finding an equal.
Now, there’s a few out there saying, “Kyle, what in the world are you talking about?” Well, I was just getting to that.
In my life, I’ve always been on the hunt for a challenge, especially in things that I excel at. When I was really into Tekken 4 (yeah, back into the whole gaming thing.. I was a nerd, I know…), I would get bored playing against the computer opponents, and even most of the people in the arcades. I would really only get excited when I had to really try. The same has been true for a lot of school assignments throughout the years, and even a good number of work projects. When there’s something that I’m really used to, or very familiar with, I get bored unless I’m constantly being pushed to be better.
One thing that I’ve had a good amount of experience with is my own personal life. I would daresay that I’ve had more experience with my own self than anyone else in existence. Because of that, I really don’t like to listen to myself. I’ll talk to myself sometimes, sure, but rarely do I listen when I talk back. I mean, honestly, I already know what I’m going to say.
Because of that, I like to relate to other people. Not just regular joes, mind you, but people who offer me a real challenge. People who know more than me, but still are willing to listen to what I have to say. People who are able to stump me sometimes. People who are able to beat me at my own games, both literally and figuratively.
My term of “equal” isn’t condescending, nor is it meant to be. It’s just an exact term of what I’m looking for. In my life, the woman that I plan on building a life with is going to have to be my equal, my soul mate, and that’s just really hard to find.
And what does that entail? Your soul mate is that person who is able to look you in the eye, and tell you exactly what they think of you, and you know that they not only are being completely honest, but that they’re right as well. She’s the person who challenges you to become better, who forces you to check your perceptions. She’s the person who can relate on your level. She doesn’t necessarily like what you like. She understands where you’re coming from, and if she disagrees, she’s got a sound argument to back it up. Her priorities are in the right place.
I’m not so pious to think that I’m better than everyone else, but I do consider myself worthwhile. I have my faults, as does anyone, and I don’t expect a soul mate to be perfect, nor do I expect her to be absolutely identical. But when I have a difficulty that I can’t handle on my own, she should be the first person who I turn to. As of yet, I haven’t really found that person.
Maybe I’m just asking for too much. It could be that I’m just trying to find a person who doesn’t exist.
But I might as well keep looking.
- Kyle
Well-Deserved Praise for HP
I know that just under a week ago I put up a post praising HP for their amazing customer service, but I thought that I’d say one more thing – These guys are totally deserving of my business, and I’ll definitely recommend them over any other PC retailer.
I’m sitting here on my compy, after getting it back on Saturday. Now, I received the box from HP on Tuesday of last week, mailed it through FedEx on Wednesday afternoon, and on Friday got a note on my door that it was at FedEx, ready for pick-up. My first thought was that there must have been some kind of mistake, and that they’d returned my compy because of some mailing error. Imagine my surprise when I found my computer completely fixed, along with a new keyboard and touchpad strip, all with a three-day turnaround time!
They had originally told me that they were going to have it back to me in a week, and I was okay with that, but with this, HP’s got my loyalty. Here’s a company that still knows the true power of business, that of treating the customer like a real person, and not just another stat on the financial statement.
HP, you guys rock!
- Kyle
Losing Compy
My computer broke down on me last week, so my posting has become a little slower over the past few days. (For those of you who depend on your computer for everything, you understand how it can take you out of your rhythm.) So, I’ve been using a lot of public computers to keep my blog up to date, but you probably won’t see a ton of pictures for a little while.
I really like the fact that HP’s service plan covers whatever happened, though. It was really weird, because I had been working on it just fine the night before, and then all of a sudden the next morning it just decided it didn’t want to boot up at all. It would turn on, but when I pressed a button to get it working, it started beeping erratically right in the middle of class. So, I just turned it off and worked on it later.
It was a “fun” little adventure as I talked with the boys over at Best Buy’s Geek Squad, and they told me that it was probably a motherboard failure. So, I called up HP, and the guy that I talked to was extremely helpful, but it was really a lost cause. So, they sent me out a box for free, paid for the shipping, and I’m supposed to get it back next week.
What I learned, though, is that HP customer service is awesome. I don’t know how many times I’ve been talking to “customer service” people who were only interested in fulfilling quota, and didn’t acknowledge that this was a person they were talking to. I don’t really know who this guy was, but he won me over. He was cordial, a little joking, and kept me in a good mood even when I couldn’t get anything to work. He read the little things that he was “supposed” to read, but made sure to let me know that he was only doing it because he was required to, but that he didn’t get it, either. In short, he was a human being, not just a question answer machine.
I know that I have a penchant for tirades and rants, but I won’t go any further listing customer service faults. All I’ll say is that if you want to keep customers, you need to treat them like people, not just another stat tick. Otherwise, you’re going to watch them disappear.
- Kyle
Not The Class I Signed Up For
Last semester, I took a class that was supposed to cover an intermediate level of digital media programs and skills, including Photoshop, Powerpoint, Flash, and video editing. I had taken the beginner class already, and sort of breezed through it, mostly because I already knew most of the subjects that were presented.
Anyway, when I went into this new class, from the same teacher as before, it wasn’t anything that I had been told. Instead of actually learning skills, we were instead given a first-class education in stress management. Instead of actually being instructed with skills that we might utilize in the workforce, the class became a stand-off between the students and the teacher. The class was set-up as a “business”, with the teacher as the “client”, and our random groups as companies vying for the contract, which was actually our grade.
The problem I had with that is that it caused competition among a class that could have very well been a united group. We were competing with one another for the grades, so we wouldn’t share information or ideas with one another, because those ideas might be “stolen” from us. Therefore, we weren’t able to utilize the vast amount of fresh and untapped talent within every member of the class, all in an effort to “teach” us about the digital business world.
I’m sorry, but that’s just plain shallow teaching. Not just bad teaching, but unbelievable teaching. I’ll say right now that the only thing I actually learned is that there’s no way in hell that I’m ever going to run my business like that. Yes, there are business secrets, and you don’t go blabbing to the world, but you don’t create an atmosphere where you’re afraid to share with your co-workers.
So for all of you teachers out there. Create an atmosphere of cooperation. There’s enough stress and problems in the world that we don’t need teachers breeding discord in a classroom in a useless effort to prove some inane point. We get enough of that out in the workplace.
- Kyle
Burning the Midnight Oil All Day
I remember, seven-plus years ago, when Red Bull and Mountain Dew: Amp were the only two energy drinks, at least to my knowledge. I remember downing them, and realizing that they didn’t really taste all that good, but that I could stay out for hours into the early morning after downing one. I’ve never really enjoyed the taste of coffee, or even the smell, so these seemed like a better alternative that didn’t have that java flavor to them.
Fast-forward to now, and I find myself downing a Rockstar infrequently, about every time that I need an extra boost after a late-night movie session or just messing around with friends. The real kicker, though, is driving on pure caffeine. There are some days when I just feel like this stuff is going to kill me. My preferred drink, the Rockstar Juiced: Guava, has less carbonation than the other drinks, and has the best taste of any of the ones I’ve tasted. But even so, I find myself getting a headache sometimes from drinking too many, or even a small withdrawal headache when I haven’t had one in a couple of weeks.
I need to read up on these things. I mean, I know some people who are literally addicted to these. Just like other people and their morning coffee, they can’t get through the day without caffeine. To me, that’s just plain sad. I guess I kind of flirt with that line, knowing that I only drink these when I actually need to, like, say, when I spent until 4 AM last night watching The Green Mile and I have five classes today. <grin>
I mean, even right now, I feel pretty tired, and I think that it’s compounded by the “crash” after I drink one of these “Nitrous in a can” containers. I’m not really sure what I’m saying here, but I guess I’m just asking you to be careful. I don’t think that these things once in a while are really going to do any damage, except getting your heart rate up, but you’ve got to exercise some control. Don’t live on energy drinks – get some sleep instead. Your body will love you for it, and you’ll feel better, too.
- Kyle
Who are "They"?
Have you ever heard someone start a sentence with “they say…”? Doesn’t that ever seem a little strange to you? We spend a lot of our time worrying about what other people think, what they wear, or what their doing with their lives, don’t we?
I imagine that hidden deep within some cave somewhere, there is a secret underground headquarters where “They” are hiding. Some super-secret organization that runs everything in the world from behind the scenes. It is “They” who decide what we wear. It is “They” who decide what we should eat. “They” decide every single aspect of our lives, determining what it the “in” thing to do, so that we don’t have to worry about making those pesky decisions on our own.
It’s interesting, but we as a society have something of a split standard. We strive to do things that others approve of, but we also want to be independent. We both shun and praise anything that’s different, depending on whether we approve of its level of difference. We hold biases on skin color, but we praise a unique paint job on a car. Anyone who doesn’t wear the right clothes is shunned, unless they’re holding something that we desperately wish we had. It’s just weird to me.
I know I’m being a little overly dramatic, but that’s the way I feel sometimes. Everyone always thinks that “everybody’s doing it”, but I have yet to be completely ostracized for making a decision on my own that I personally feel comfortable with. I do things on my own terms, within the law, of course, and do what I like.
And so far, “They” haven’t come to get me.
- Kyle
A Barking Dog's Insight
A couple of weeks ago, I was walking down the street on the way home from the bus stop. It was cold, I was tired from working all day, and I just wanted to go home and eat dinner. As I was meandering alongside a wooden fence, suddenly there was a rush, and a crash, and this dog slammed into the fence as hard as it could, barking furiously at me. I’m not normally a jumpy guy, but considering that the dog and I were seperated by just an inch of boards, I was understandably reactive.
After checking my heartbeat, and making sure that I was still going to be breathing for a little while, I decided to see what had scared me out of my wits, and peered through the slits. It was a little dog, one of those yapping mongrels that barely qualifies past “rodent” on the food chain. I cursed the dog quietly, and went on my way. But this was a pretty long fence, and the dog just kept getting louder and more annoying. I tried to ignore it, but the thing wouldn’t shut up. Finally, I’d had enough of it.
“Shut up!” I bellowed. “The only reason you’re barking is ’cause you’re on the other side of the fence!”
At this moment, I paused, and kind of realized kind of the principle that I’d inadvertantly stated. It just kind of hit me.
It’s really easy for us to sit safely in our homes, or in a classroom, and criticize or derail those outside. It’s easy to make fun of another, to question another’s actions, especially because we’re not there in the trenches alongside them. It’s easy to be an armchair quarterback, ridiculing the players on the screen for not being able to catch that “easy pass.” It’s because there’s a barrier, or a fence, between us and the situation.
How many times have we criticized another behind their back, because we were safe by the water cooler? How many times have we complained about the government, and their apparent lack of intelligence or ability? How many times have we complained to others about a teacher, a manager, or some other authority? That dog would have quieted immediately and ran had that fence suddenly disappeared. After seeing me, and realizing that I was just a wee bit larger than he, the mutt would have realized his mistake. That, or he would have gotten a swift kick in the backside.
But I think we can learn from this principle. Stop barking from behind the fence. It doesn’t help, it’s intensely annoying, and it only shows an immense lack of backbone and fortitude. If you got a problem, then take it up with the person that you have a problem with. You don’t like the government, write to them, and let them know. You got a personal axe to grind? Then go and grind it, and get it over with, because I’m tired of hearing about people who complain and complain about things in life that they don’t have any ambition to change. Either do something about it, or just shut up.
Otherwise, stay quiet on your side of the fence.
- Kyle
The Everlasting Ribbons of Highway
I’ve already said before that I love to drive. There’s just some kind of euphoria that comes to me while behind the wheel of a vehicle travelling at 85 mph, and I don’t think that kind of a drug is ever going to lose its high.
In any case, a little while ago, a couple friends and I went on a road trip to Hollywood to go see Wicked. (I know what you’re thinking – “AGAIN? What’s wrong with this guy?”) To be honest, though, the other two hadn’t seen it yet, and so I volunteered to drive, because I really wanted to see it again, too. If you haven’t read my praising review of the show yet, then I invite you to do so. (You can find it here.)
But despite my self-proclaimed love affair with the open road, I have to admit that this trip could have done with a bit more planning, and that we certainly paid for it tenfold over the course of our rather adventurous journey.
The first oversight was that we drove my car. Now, I have a well-maintained Honda that can easily take the mileage, and I have full trust in my car. However, it’s a standard, and despite my assumptions to the contrary, neither of my other passengers drive a stick. As such, I found myself driving nearly the entire trip, totalling out around 30+ hours behind the wheel. As much as I wish that it didn’t, the drive really did a number on me.
Just to illustrate, we drove straight to Hollywood, about a 12-hour trip, and right to the Pantages Theatre, all with maybe a one-hour rest in between at a family-member’s house along the way. That’s quite a drive, let me tell you. Even in the daytime, with two good friends to keep me company and to keep my mind occupied, I was pretty wiped out.
We did find a neat little tidbit through a contact at Pantages, though. Every night, the actors are alloted a certain number of tickets for family or friends that might be attending that night. However, these tickets usually go unused, and so they are raffled off to whoever is there at 6:00 that night. Front-row seats for $25 a pop. But if you’re not one of the lucky few, there’s no need to worry. Right afterwards, they put the remaining seats on sale for $45 a piece, and so we ended up sitting about 20 rows back, which are still pretty amazing seats.
Now, back to the trip.
We sort of slept through the next day until around noon, until we had a (at the time) brilliant idea. Considering that two of us are California natives, and both thrill-seeking enthusiasts, we figured that we’d spend our afternoon at Six Flags Magic Mountain. I have an awesome contact in LA who gets really good discounts on Cali’s theme parks, and so he helped guide us downtown, where he met us to give us the tickets. But then, due to a mix-up with directions, we missed to 405 turn-off, and realized we’d made a mistake when we saw the Thousand Oaks exit. Basically, we wasted about three hours just trying to get there, and so we pulled up around 5:00. We then decided it’d be a better idea to go the next day, considering that they close at six. (We did stop at In-N-Out, though, so I did feel a lot better about that.)
That’s kind of how the trip went for us. We’d get directions from someone, and they’d end up being unclear, or missing a crucial part, and we’d go off-track. And I mean really off track.
On the way home, we headed to Palmdale, trying to find the I-15 east, and weren’t sure which way to go. I mean, I had a vague idea, but since we took a different route coming in, I thought I’d check. But, after getting bad directions from a gas station trying to find the I-15 and ending up deep in Lancaster, I pulled off to fuel up and bought the one thing that we should have had the entire trip – a $5 road map. From there, we figured out where we were, plotted out our course, and we were on our way.
12 more hours of driving, and four or more Rockstars later, we finally made it back home. It was just one of those experiences that, while you’re in it, you don’t know if you’re really having fun or not. I mean, you are, but you realize the amount of work and hassle that it took to get there, and it crosses your mind whether it was worth it all. But then, you realize that these are the kinds of experiences that you only get to have at a certain time of your life. While you’re young and single, with no strings attached. I figure you’ve got to live life to the fullest, in every single stage of it, and so I’ll always look back on this cooky road trip and smile.
And that is most definitely worth 30 hours behind the wheel.
- Kyle
A Holiday Apology
It’s been a while since I put up a post, and most of that’s been because of the holiday season. You know how it is; family and friends… My blog kind of takes a back seat when it comes to my more important “obligations.” In any case, this is just a quick apology, and letting anyone who’s been checking this recently that I’ll be back in full swing by next week. See ya soon. – Kyle
The Random Meeting
I started taking the bus about two months ago to work, which is about a one-hour ride. It’s dark when I get up, and I’m tired when I get home, but that’s part of the work that you’ve got to do, right?
Anyway, when I was riding the other day, I noticed a little random meeting that seemed pretty interesting to me. As you might know, I have a tendency to see scenes as I’m walking down the street. Maybe it’s the lego-builder imagination that’s still in me, but I try to imagine what might be instead of what is.
There was a fellow walking up the aisle, headed for a seat, with a book in his hand. As he walked, he looked away for a second, and bumped into a girl who was sitting just across from the seat he was headed for. Coincidentally, she had the very same book in her hands. There was a quick glance, an apology, and then both sat down in their respective seats, not three feet from one another, and opened their books to read.
In my mind’s eye, this was no chance encounter. This is something that drips of destiny’s intervention. I kept on wondering what might have actually happened had either of them taken the chance to say “Hello, how are you?” Or even “Wow, we’re both reading the same book! Weird, huh?” There is potential for a romance, a friendship, a story! Coincidences happen so infrequently in real life that I think we need to grasp onto them when they rear their faces.
My invitation? Say hello to somebody. Sure, they might think it’s a little weird at first, but there are so many people who are just longing for a kind word, a smile, a joke, or even just a momentary acquaintance to make them feel good. And just think… The source of that happy little sigh could be you.
- Kyle
Imagined Scenes
Sometimes, when I’m sitting at Taco Bell, or maybe when I’m waiting in line at the grocery store, my mind will start to wander a little bit. (And I’m sure that no one else has this problem, right?) For some reason, I suddenly visualize movie scenes, of running into someone at this random place, whose path and mine were destined to cross. Sometimes it’s a potential date, sometimes it’s an ally, sometimes it’s an enemy.
I’ll be standing there, just loading my groceries onto the counter, the teenage, thin, glasses-wearing male clerk waits behind the register, and then starts to beep in my purchases with his little red light. Suddenly another cart crashes into mine, sending me stumbling to the floor. I look up, and see a malicious grin bearing down on me from behind a cartful of protien powder and raw steaks.
“Mr. Brogan,” says the man, his height and girth easily doubling mine. “I want something from you.”
I scramble to my feet, and look him in the eye. “And what’s that?” I say with all the nerve that I can muster.
“Your pin number.” He says quietly, with a voice of low thunder.
“Huh?” I say.
“You have to put in your pin,” says the cashier, a little annoyed at my stupidity. I nod, type it in, take the reciept, and pick up my bagged groceries, heading for my car.
As soon as I open the door, though, I hear the squeal of tires. I look to my left to see a car barreling through the parking lot, speed rising. Right in front of me, though, is a woman, directly in the path of the car. I tackle her out of the way as the car misses us by inches, spilling my milk and eggs onto the sidewalk.
The car spins around, intending to finish the job, but I lift one of the carts above my head and throw it through the windshield, sending the car crashing into a lightpole. The woman praises me as her hero, and I say simply, “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”
Then I shrug, and pick-up my groceries, and load them into my car. The drive home is a car chase yet again, or perhaps a secret mission to get my groceries, which actually contain information that could compromise the security of the entire nation, to my home, where I can transmit them to the NSA without detection.
I don’t know. I know I have an overactive imagination. Perhaps that’s why it’s best for me to stick to writing. But all that inspiration has to come from somewhere, right?
- Kyle
Copyright, Greed, and Forwarding Idiocy
Check out Linda Amstutz’ devilish tone on this website:
http://www.braceguard.com/ifmybodywereacar.htm
Do you forward things by email? If so, I’d be more careful, because here’s a writer who’s dedicated her pathetic existence to “cashing in” on people’s mistakes.
As a graphic and web designer, I fully understand how copyright laws have to be taken seriously. You can’t go out taking credit for someone else’s work, and legally, you do own the copyright to anything that you create. (By example, by writing this blog, I immediately own the copyright on every essay and post in it. That’s the way that it works.)
However, I’m pretty liberal with my own writings. I really don’t mind the trackbacks and pings, and I’d consider someone who posted something of mine on their site as helpful advertising, as long as they posted my name.
However, mistakes are made sometimes. I myself have accidentally posted things on forums that I didn’t check for sources, and I was called on it. Since then, I’ve worked to identify sources before I put the posts up. (And I also strive to contact the owners of the material before I post it up. You may notice certain identifiers on the pages on the right for just those reasons.)
What really bugs me about this lady, though, is that she’s siccing her lawyer out to gain $750 for every time anyone uses her little junk essay, “If My Body Were A Car”, with or without credit, unless she gains a profit from its use. I’m aware of at least one incident where she’s come down on a non-profit website for mistakenly using the essay.
Now, I do understand that they were wrong it posting that up. But I also realize that it was a mistake, and was taken down as soon as it was identified as such. But for Amstutz to pursue this course, demanding $750, (a completely unreasonable fee, let me tell you), and threatening with the legal maximum of $30,000 plus court costs, is simply ludicrous.
What a sad writer to have to resort to extortion instead of actually writing. So here’s a tip – Don’t ever post anything on your website, or even forward an email, unless you know that it is free-use or has an open copyright. All you have to do is ask.
- Kyle
Meeting the Eye
For some reason, we human beings have a strange aversion to looking each other in the eye. It makes us uncomfortable, annoyed, and a little scared when someone is actually looking right at us when they’re talking. It doesn’t matter that they’re the friendliest person on Earth, we’re still bothered. How come?
We would be perfectly happy if the person were to look just to the right or left as they’re talking, so that they’re looking towards us, but not at us. It doesn’t matter who they are. You ever notice that when you meet eyes with someone in the hallway, especially someone that you don’t know at all, you both have a tight-lipped grin and quickly look away? It’s like, “Oh, sorry we made eye contact, fellow drone.”
But you can’t be rude, so you grin lightly at them, but then pass by, breathing a sigh of relief that you didn’t actually have to talk to them. No matter that that person might be your next best friend, or your soul mate, or your long-lost brother, or perhaps your eventual spouse – you both met eyes in the hallway, and so the barrier was created.
I think, personally, that the reason that we avoid eye contact has to do something with the old adage, “The eyes are the window to the soul.” A lot can be determined from the eyes. I know some people who can look into my eyes and see straight through me. There are other people who I can read like a book simply because their eyes tell the whole story.
Maybe we avoid making eye contact because we’re afraid that the other person might be able to judge all of our faults and mistakes just by looking into our eyes, and they won’t like what they see. Maybe we’re just so self-conscious about ourselves and what others think about us that we’re afraid that we might not get a fair say with our mouths as our eyes share all of our innermost secrets.
For me, I’m going to start looking into the eyes. Uncomfortable or not, faulty or not, I’m going to look. And I’ll let others find in me what they may.
You're So Lucky?
I was riding up in the elevator today, and I overheard an interesting conversation. It was between two middle-aged men, I’d guess about 45 to 50, who were discussing about a friend of theirs who had gotten into an accident. According to their story, their friend had been on the freeway, and was changing into the right lane, when a kid not paying attention slammed into him, t-boning the cars, at about 75 mph on the passenger’s side. Their friend was the only one in the car. He went to the hospital with three broken ribs, but was otherwise intact except for shock and some bangs, bruises, and some minor cuts. The car, though, was totaled.
Now, what was the first thing that the listener said? “Well, he’s lucky; he didn’t get hurt too bad.”
I remember standing there and thinking, “Humana…what?” This guy just got into a 70+ mph car wreck, has a totaled car, three broken ribs, and trauma injuries, and his friend’s saying “he’s lucky?” Why do we do that?
Why is it that our first reaction to someone surviving some horrible accident the fact of how “lucky” they are? I’m sorry, but to me, that seems awfully unlucky. Lucky are those people who don’t get into accidents. Lucky are those who can avoid that kind of stress in their lives. Not the people who happen to, by skill or “divine intervention”, make it through the tragedy alright. They’re not lucky, I don’t think.
In our everyday speech, and our everyday words, we say a lot of things that we don’t really think about. Someone asks us how we are, and we say “fine.” To be honest, the person asking doesn’t really want to know, and we don’t really want to tell, so we just nonchalantly say both phrases without really thinking.
Self-awareness is very important. If we can’t be even self-observant, then I don’t think that we can rightly see our way through.
- Kyle
Is Football Sportsmanship in Jeopardy?
Okay, here’s a fun little tidbit to worry about: In Montgomery County, Md, police are currently invesigating cuts on several high school football players’ hands, resulting from a razor blade in hand during the post-game handshake. After the Magruder (Rockville) team beat out Blake High School (Silver Spring), 55-7, someone connected to Blake High decided he’d cut up the hands of some of the players. According to witnesses, the attacker sat on the Blake bench, but was not wearing a football uniform.
So what do you think about that? When did sportsmanship get completely thrown out of the window, to the point where we’re going to injure the other team for beating us? How did that conversation go?
“Hey man, you’re gonna be sorry for beating us.”
“What?”
“You score on us, and I’m gonna slice you up.”
What’s next? Are we going to start banning the post-game handshake completely? Perhaps we’re going to get players sharpening the bolts on their facemasks so there’s a nice cutting edge to them. That’ll show ‘em.
To me, not only is that poor sportsmanship, but it’s just plain stupid. What exactly was this guy trying to accomplish? Great, now he’s cut a few players, their hands are sliced up, and an entire town is angry. And when this guy gets caught, (don’t think he won’t), the judge is going to throw the book at him, because this is the kind of thing that needs to be stopped right now.
On that same note, we had the incident with Wyoming college football coach Joe Glenn who gave the one-fingered salute to the Utah Utes after their admittedly unsportsmanlike decision to use an onside kick with a 43-0 lead. Is football just falling apart?
I love this game. I think about it a lot, and I wish that I could play today. But it seems like the standards of the sport on every level are really falling. Right now, I just wish we could play some clean pick-up games and not worry about all the stress of the high-level sport. Just the players, the street, and respect. That’s all you need.
Well, and a field.
- Kyle
Being Painted
Now here’s a unique conversation starter: Paint yourself completely green, and then walk through a grocery store and a restaurant, pretending that nothing’s strange. Field the weird looks that you get, and let me know what happens. This is what happened to me last week, and I’ll tell you that it was one of the most interesting experiences of my life.
Before you start thinking that I just have some strange hobbies, though, let me explain. I was hired to do a commercial for my school, because they needed some extras and I’d worked with them on a few projects before. Little did I know what I was in store for.
I arrived on set at 6:00 AM, which is way earlier than I ever even wake up, parked my car, and made my way into the site we were using. We pretty much took over one whole side of the student center. I had some fun chatting with some of the different actors and actresses that they’d hired, as well as a number of the extras that were on site. And then the call came to get painted.
This wasn’t a surprise, because they’d told us beforehand, but it was still a strange activity. They had me take my shirt off, and close my eyes as they took some acrylic paint and airbrushed it onto me. At first, I thought that this wasn’t going to take very long. In fact, they had told us that it shouldn’t. But the girl who was working on me… Well, it was her first time, and she was layering the paint on thick. And I mean thick. She went over the same spot multiple times, and my face alone took over an hour. Then she went over my arms, shoulders, and neck, making sure that every part of my skin was covered in a bright, gleaming green.
When I finally got a hold of a mirror two hours after she’d started, I realized that I was the exact same color as the Incredible Hulk™. The other painter had gone through three actors as I’d sat there, and of everyone, I was definitely the most green. I think you could have pinpointed me from the space shuttle, as a moving green speck.
The commercial went pretty well, (I can’t really discuss it until it gets broadcast this next month), but it was what happened on the way home that really made me think.
First, I had a class after my commercial, and since I didn’t have enough time to drive home and shower before it started, I just walked up and went to class green. Some laughed, some didn’t even notice, and most didn’t even ask, until one man finally couldn’t take the curiousity any longer. He asked, and I told. But the looks and the stares were just so funny to me, especially in a class that I’ve been attending for over two months now. You’d think that people would be a little more comfortable just asking, “Um, why are you all green?”
I was hungry afterwards, so I headed over to Taco Bell™ to grab something. In all honesty, I’d been green all day, and so I hadn’t really considered how weird it would be to just go in and order. I got a good number of weird looks as I walked in, stood in line, and then ordered. Though I usually get it to go, I sat down and ate right there, just to see what would happen. There were a couple people close to me who asked me why I was green, and I told them, but what cracked me up most were the workers behind the counter who couldn’t stop staring. It just made me want to laugh.
After I left, I was going to go home and wash it all off, but I was still a little curious. I needed a couple things from the grocery store, so I pulled into a nearby Albertsons™ to see what would happen. The place wasn’t too crowded, but there were still a decent number of people shopping. There was a definite “buzz” in the store, with people talking at normal level, that simply disappeared when I walked into the store. Suddenly there were a ton of whispers.
People began muttering under their breath, and I heard phrases like, “It’s not Halloween yet,” and “Why in the world…?” But no one got up the gumption to just ask me. Anyway, I took my milk, drinks, and cereal to the check-out, and finally the cashier asked me. I told her, and she smirked, but then nodded.
“I figured it was something like that,” she said. “I used to do commercials, too. People would ask me why I was wearing shorts and a tank top in the snow, or would make fun of me as I was walking to my car after the shoot. As if I didn’t know that what I was wearing was a little strange.”
I laughed, paid, and walked out, still pretending that nothing was different. I got fun waves from girls as I drove home, as well as some really weird looks from older people. The whole thing was really an interesting ride. I had a good laugh all the way until I spent two hours scrubbing the stuff off of my face.
But on a slightly more serious note, why don’t people get up the nerve? Why is it that people are so frightened by something out of the ordinary that they can’t get up the courage to ask? When you see a person walk in who’s a little “different”, be it in hairstyle, clothing, or even skin color, do you instantly look away? Or do you seek to understand?
I don’t like to go too deep into it all, but that’s just something that I’ve wondered about. Why do we shun the different? What if someone were to actually be born with skin that was tinted an unnatural color? Would we be afraid? Or would we try to befriend them? I hope that I would be understanding.
Jupping
While I was in Hong Kong, we used the word “Jup” a lot. Basically, it meant to claim something that someone had left behind, and therefore didn’t want, so was up for grabs. So, we would “Jup” it. Because I shared apartments with up to six people at a time, and we kind of had limited space as we travelled around, lots of items would be lost and found throughout my two-year journey. There were things that I needed for a time, and then left behind, and then someone might come along and use it after me.
In any case, I’ve kind of taken an attitude on life in the same respect. While you should never steal anything from someone, I feel that you can gain a lot from “jupping” things from the personalities and qualities that you see in the people around you. Let’s say that your good friend is really outgoing, and you want to emulate that. Observe him, and “jup” that quality from him. Or maybe you want to be better at math, and don’t know how to go about it. Talk with someone who is, and “jup” that skill from them.
In my personal life, I’ve found that in jupping things from others, I gain a lot, and learn more about myself than if I would have only examined my own life. Jupping is extremely useful. Anytime that I want to learn something, I’ll go and find someone who’s good at it, and ask questions, observe, and keep on trying. It’s always the best way to learn. Sure, you can try to figure it out on your own, or even figure it out with a buddy, but really, you gain experience by leaps and bounds when you jup from somebody that you already know is good.
So to everyone out there, let’s get jupping, eh? Share with others, and don’t be afraid to emulate.
- Kyle
