To throw yourself headlong
as if off a bridge
to your death
into another person
Never asking if
there is a net or
safety word
Without holding
another human being
under a bright light
interrogation
Eventually we've
all faced our Lucy's,
who snatched the ball
from us right before
our certain victory
We've all had the Simpsons
"HA Ha" kid who suddenly
laughed at us rather than with us
It isn't easy to brush
ourselves off and open up
yet again to the
possibility
maybe
just maybe
maybe
this
time
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Saturday, February 1, 2014
There is a meme ....
That jokes about hiding a Batman suit in your own closet
To "F" with your potential future dementia'd self ....
It is a funny idea made even more interesting that it is suggesting "punk'-ing ourselves
How do I say this?
We do it already. Everything you already do and have in your closet
May potentially "F" with your understanding of reality
While a very stubborn opinionated man, my father was not without his talents and he had his fingers in a lot of confusing and complicated pies. A year or so after his stroke found me trapped at his computer while he scrolled to email after email asking, "What does this mean?"
Some of them were emails where he was the sender.
Nearly all of them were about subjects in which we did not share common interests. After helping him understand who had written the email and who it had been sent to, I was forced to repeatedly admit. "I don't know."
You are already creating dozens of things you will no longer remember or understand should dementia be in your future.
I have come to wonder if we only have a very small percentage of control in our lives and the people who are "control freaks" burn out all of theirs on the front side of life.
It seems to me, dementia doesn't have to be such a bad thing after all. Like every other experience, it is only a question of whether you choose to be happy or not.
It also seems to me that anyone who can truly embrace the notion of being happy with dementia is exactly the sort of person who will probably never have it.
To "F" with your potential future dementia'd self ....
It is a funny idea made even more interesting that it is suggesting "punk'-ing ourselves
How do I say this?
We do it already. Everything you already do and have in your closet
May potentially "F" with your understanding of reality
While a very stubborn opinionated man, my father was not without his talents and he had his fingers in a lot of confusing and complicated pies. A year or so after his stroke found me trapped at his computer while he scrolled to email after email asking, "What does this mean?"
Some of them were emails where he was the sender.
Nearly all of them were about subjects in which we did not share common interests. After helping him understand who had written the email and who it had been sent to, I was forced to repeatedly admit. "I don't know."
You are already creating dozens of things you will no longer remember or understand should dementia be in your future.
I have come to wonder if we only have a very small percentage of control in our lives and the people who are "control freaks" burn out all of theirs on the front side of life.
It seems to me, dementia doesn't have to be such a bad thing after all. Like every other experience, it is only a question of whether you choose to be happy or not.
It also seems to me that anyone who can truly embrace the notion of being happy with dementia is exactly the sort of person who will probably never have it.
This morning ...
......... the ghosts
Of all my life's cheerleaders
Gathered in my kitchen
While i fried my eggs
"you know i hate to be watched" I chided,
As my yolks broke
I've gazed at the moon
Wearing blue lenses
While the beautiful sunsets
Faded behind me
Thought happy was a dial you set
And left, a pirate frequency
no one clued me into
All I Ever Wanted
Our paths crossed again today
That keychain and mine
You know the one, overcrowded
With keys to the passed doorways
I can't do anything with it
So ....
I baby oil my bath water
Play the bobsled bop
Let the water fly
Adobe Acrobat slowed my computer
To a crawl, a prisoner to its demands
Ignore and I'll just see it repeatedly
I can't do anything with it
So ....
I slip my feet out of my shoes
Squish the mud between my toes
Paint my white feet brown
A drought in the Bible belt
A shooting at Capitol Mall
And you're out spouting politics
As if you can control it at all
I can't do anything with it
So ....
I hit the gas when my car
Crests the top of a hill
Raise my hands up high.
That Friend You Hate
Louis CK talks of a friend we all have
The friend we secretly hate
C'mon we all have one
Says Louis CK
Mine has called me "Spoiled Brat"
Nearly all of my life
Just as my father's pet name
For me was "Dumb Kid"
Louis' says his is the type person
Who asks, if you could time travel
Where would you go, what would you do?
Secretly, Louis feels, you only asked
To tell your own answer, besides
Who do you think you are?
Like you could really kill Hitler
Although I've never met him
I realize I am Louis CK's most hated friend
Or I would be, but he's got me all wrong
It really is about the game, the discussion
Not my hopes of spiking my point down your throat
Maybe if I could go back in time, I should
Go back in time and unmeet you
The friend we secretly hate
C'mon we all have one
Says Louis CK
Mine has called me "Spoiled Brat"
Nearly all of my life
Just as my father's pet name
For me was "Dumb Kid"
Louis' says his is the type person
Who asks, if you could time travel
Where would you go, what would you do?
Secretly, Louis feels, you only asked
To tell your own answer, besides
Who do you think you are?
Like you could really kill Hitler
Although I've never met him
I realize I am Louis CK's most hated friend
Or I would be, but he's got me all wrong
It really is about the game, the discussion
Not my hopes of spiking my point down your throat
Maybe if I could go back in time, I should
Go back in time and unmeet you
I Think It Was Willy Wonka
It was a Sunday
I had been at my dad's
We had talked about Willy Wonka just before
Because I had seen a bit at my dad's house
He had said he'd never seen it before
I had gotten very animated and excited talking about it
You had said it was from your childhood
It was from mine too
Just a little bit older
I almost wonder ...
We saw Willy Wonka at the drive in
The Parkway - which was the furthest distance away drive in we would go to
There were a lot of people there
We arrived late
I'm pretty sure my dad had played his lost game for amusement
The one where we would drive out into the country
And he would suddenly look wide eyed, pantomime astonishment
Oh no, we're lost
And me there, with my parents, yet frightened and worried
Either way there was drama and upset
Because it looked like we wouldn't get in
Or would have a horrible view if we did
They were fighting
And I had wanted to see the movie
Unlike so many we saw where I would watch the cartoon
And then lie down and go to sleep
I had wanted to see this one
And I did
But not until after one of their big scenes and upsets
Shit
I think it was Willy Wonka
The horrible thing is
You were enjoying me talk about Willy Wonka
So animatedly - you were concerned I wouldn't sleep
And called me gorgeous twice
With such love in your voice
Which I DID NOT notice on that night
Well if it was Willy Wonka
And I get very excited there
I don't register it as negative
Until just about where you say black grout
Where you're describing that picture
But to me
Willy Wonka is a memory
With some negative aspects
Although I love the movie
Black grout
Brings an image
But I can't attach it to anything
Yeah I really think it was Willy Wonka
1971
I was ten
Right during the epicenter of badness years
And everything I said to you
Was pretty much how I felt at that drive in
But couldn't have said
As If Underwater No 4
I recently discovered i have a secret power, like a super hero, only comparatively useless. Really probably you could do it, probably anybody can do it, or maybe I have a special ear for it.
I can hear on a movie soundtrack where the audio track was cut and an actor was asked to repeat some dialogue.
What?
Oh you can do that too?
I tried to tell you it wasn't much of a super power.
Common.
Does it affect you the same?
It pops me out of the movie. Today, sitting at my father's house, watching Alfred Hitchcock's "Topaz," I found it almost unwatchable due to audio splices.
For those of you who may not have this power, let me explain how I do it. In old audio, I'm not sure exactly the cut off point, but I would guess pre- digital, there are little tells I can hear. The white noise in the background, it won't be the same on each edge of the splice. I can hear where it shifts and shifts back as obviously as if you heard me change a channel. Sometimes the pitch of the actor's voice changes. I can't quite explain how the actor's voice could change in pitch where it is noticeably not the same session. It must have something to do with other variables in the equation. The microphone, the distance from mic to performer, the size of the room, how the actor felt that day, all sorts of differences which possibly can be heard in the performer's voice.
I notice it and it pops me out of the movie.
Disturbing the resonance of the room and causing feedback
Places respond to different frequencies
Notching out resonance points
Rooms have frequencies
Live responses to a wide number of frequencies
Sweet spot
How few a people does it take to change the resonance of a room?
I can hear on a movie soundtrack where the audio track was cut and an actor was asked to repeat some dialogue.
What?
Oh you can do that too?
I tried to tell you it wasn't much of a super power.
Common.
Does it affect you the same?
It pops me out of the movie. Today, sitting at my father's house, watching Alfred Hitchcock's "Topaz," I found it almost unwatchable due to audio splices.
For those of you who may not have this power, let me explain how I do it. In old audio, I'm not sure exactly the cut off point, but I would guess pre- digital, there are little tells I can hear. The white noise in the background, it won't be the same on each edge of the splice. I can hear where it shifts and shifts back as obviously as if you heard me change a channel. Sometimes the pitch of the actor's voice changes. I can't quite explain how the actor's voice could change in pitch where it is noticeably not the same session. It must have something to do with other variables in the equation. The microphone, the distance from mic to performer, the size of the room, how the actor felt that day, all sorts of differences which possibly can be heard in the performer's voice.
I notice it and it pops me out of the movie.
Disturbing the resonance of the room and causing feedback
Places respond to different frequencies
Notching out resonance points
Rooms have frequencies
Live responses to a wide number of frequencies
Sweet spot
How few a people does it take to change the resonance of a room?
****************
The claustrophobic moment of knowing you're watching somebody already dead. Suddenly realizing you never saw him, an actor popular during the Sixties but who is on television at this moment, any older than that. Ever after that I looked at him as if wanting to grasp him by the face. Stare into his eyes to look for a clue. Before I can, the scene always cuts and fades.
*****************
Entering the house cautiously, with Harry Potter DVDs, a slice of homemade Christmas cake, and my iPad in hand, I eye the room warily like a person who knows they are passing through a cave which has been known to house bears. My father sits, where he always sits, the far stage right of the sofa, watching a movie. I set the Harry Potters down next to previously delivered, unwatched Harry Potters, that instigated his demand for more. I show him the ziplock bag with the cake, explain what it is, try to ignore the sarcastic comment that he utters, which is essentially his version of a very droll “oh goody.”
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