Being a transplant from the East Coast affords me the opportunity to experience the subtle changes in our nation that creep up from place to place. For instance, the further west you go you will find that soda is referred to as pop, basements are called cellars and anything thrown on some dough with tomato juice and then whipped into an oven is known as pizza. As such I joke around with my friends by saying things like, "Back in America we had something known as Pizza," or "Back in America we call it soda," and ribbing of that nature.
Well at work there are always people selling things for their kids school, sports teams, or scouts troops. Everybody throws some money in to help each other out. Recently a friend of mine was hawking Girl Scout cookies. I refrained from buying any because I knew that I would eat a box or two in a sitting so I didn't even look at his order sheet. A few nights ago he showed up with his goods for those who bought a box or five.
So, here we are at one of our breaks and people are opening up their boxes and enjoying some cookies. Someone asked me if I wanted one to which I responded, "Do you have any Samoas?" Well I could have been speaking Japanese for all he cared because the look he shot me was one of incredulity, as if I had said something wrong or unintelligible. He didn't even ask "What?" So I was forced to say, "What's the problem?"
As we continued I noticed others in the break room had heard what I had said and were curious as to what I had meant. He finally said, "What are you talking about?" I told that I wanted a Samoa if he had bought any. He said that he didn't know what I was talking about and that he only had Peanut Butter Patties. I then said, "You mean Tagalongs?" Again silence and staring. The thought popped into my mind that I was not in America anymore.
No one knew what I was talking about and they said that the cookies I spoke of never existed. I disagreed. They then said that if they did the names were changed a million years ago(insinuating that I am old). I told them, "You know, the vanilla cookie covered with coconut and caramel with dark chocolate drizzled on it? It is the best seller for the Girl Scouts!" "Do you mean the vanilla cookie with caramel and coconut with milk chocolate drizzled on it?" Not sure of myself any longer I said yes. "Then you mean Caramel deLites!" I nervously laughed but I had meant Samoas. What the heck was going on? I mean when I was at McDonald's earlier that day they weren't selling Le Royales with cheese! No, they were still selling Quarter Pounders with cheese. What was happening?!
I saw someone eating a Samoa(so I thought) and went up to them to get the box to prove my point but when I picked it up it said Caramel deLites(btw it is pronounced CARE-A-Mel and not CARMLE- just for those living in Dixon, Illinois). Faintly I heard the music from The Twilight Zone playing in the distance and I was ascared, very ascared! Where the heck was I and what had they done to my cookies!?
I had lived in several states and had bought and eaten Samoas, Tagalongs, Trefoils, and Do-Si-Dos from Connecticut to Missouri. What was the deal?
Well thank the good Lord for the Internet because my riddle was answered by finding out that the Girl Scouts use two different bakeries to make, basically, the same cookies. However, depending on the bakery the name is different. Furthermore each Girl Scout Council can use whatever bakery they choose so this disparity is not regional.
So it appears that I was right after all and that I live in an area where the cookies that I know and love are sold under different, more sterile sounding names. I tasted a Caramel deLite and it was too Caramelly(that is Carmelly for those of you who have just moved out of your parents house and into Dixon, Illinois) and not much of a deLite.
Oh, well I guess you can't have your cookies and eat them too. Man I miss America!
Mac
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
I grew up a several hours away from the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. I have been there as a kid and in turn I have brought my children there. It is really a wonderful museum and if you are a fan of the game it is a must-see-vacation stop for you and your family.
I have also been to the Pro Football Hall of Fame, in Canton, Ohio a couple of times as well. I really enjoyed my visits there I as love football almost as much as I love baseball. There is something to be said about both places. When you are in the actual Halls where the athletes and other inductees are honored you feel like you are there with them in person. All of their accomplishments and gargantuan feats are listed and it is there as plain as plain can be for the visitor to drink in.
The numbers are concrete and the standards were set by the early figures in each sport, only to be broken and reset by those who have come after them. While there are certain players, currently playing, in each sport who I would love to see in their respective Halls of Fame (HoF) their induction doesn't come down to some sentimental nod to them but it comes down to their numbers. Do they have the numbers to get in? It is that cut and dried, as well it should be. That is why those HoF (and I am sure that it is the same with the HoF for Pro Basketball and Pro Hockey though I have never been to either) are places of honor and respect for those few people who have a plague or a bust in there.
I remember back in the mid 1980s when I heard that there would be a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I thought to myself, "How the heck can you have that, and why would you want to have that and what Rocker would agree to be admitted to such a place?" The reason that I thought this was that HoF are Establishment. They represent rules and procedures and everything that Rock and Roll is against. HoF represent the Man and Rock used to be about stickin' it to the man. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that was from the movie The School of Rock but it is nonetheless true and that movie was spot on about what Rock used to be, what it should be, and what it is no more.
I am amazed to see the Rock and Roll (RAR) HoF inductees speak about how they feel honored to be a part of such a place. It makes me gag to see so many Rockers sellout and put on a tuxedo and go and pay homage to the Man. It is a joke and a sham created to sell memorabilia, to make money and many Rockers have sold out to that idea. They have become fat, drunk, and lazy on their own spoils that they have forgotten about the music! THE MUSIC! It reminds me of the closing scene from George Orwell's Animal Farm where the pigs and the humans are all sitting around the table sharing a meal and the other animals stood outside looking in at the scene and they went from face to face looking at the pigs and humans and they could not tell who was pig and who was human. The pigs had become exactly what they were against at the beginning, they had become exactly what they told the other animals were their enemies. They had sold out! Far too many Rockers have become Establishment. Swine. Pigs.
I do tip my hat to the Sex Pistols who in 2006 refused to attend their induction ceremony calling the HOF," a piss stain" and saying in a hand written note that, "We're not coming. We're not your monkeys, so what?" I respect that kind of integrity.
Another thing that irks me is that there is a difference with the numbers of athletes compared to the influence of musicians. By that I mean how does one factor in who is worthy or not to be in the RAR HOF? Is it based on record sales? That would be said and mean that money is the bottom line to induction. Is it popularity? Is it how well the musicians played their instruments, sang their songs, drank the booze, or destroyed a hotel? What is the criteria?
You see music is subjective while athletic statistics are objective. Who can honestly say that Led Zeppelin is better than The Who? Both bands are great and when I was younger I would have said it was The Who, but as I have aged I have come to respect The Zep as one of the finest Rock and Roll bands that has ever existed. Yet, all of that is just my opinion and while there are many others who might agree with me it is still just opinion and not fact. Whether we like it or not, and whether he cheated through the use of steroids the fact is that Barry Bonds has hit more home runs than any other player in Major League Baseball history. Fact is that, in the NFL, no one has thrown more touchdown passes in a career than Brett Favre or in a season than Tom Brady. Those are facts and not subject to debate. Music can never be objective as well it shouldn't be.
So looking at the RAR HoF is looking at some perversion of the music itself. It is a fabricated institute invented to make money and nothing else. I know that I will never go to it, nor will I ever truly respect the rocker who willingly is inducted to it. Their music will have a taint on it, and that saddens me greatly because if you look at the list of inductees there are some great Rockers on it, and some people who are pop/rap/funk icons who have no business being in anything that claims to be Rock and Roll but their presence proves my point that the RAR HoF was never about ROCK AND ROLL. Seriously, Madonna, The Bee Gees, Parliament-Funkadelic, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five? Rockers? Hardly!
So, go if you want. You will never see me there. And that's the name of that tune!
MAC
I have also been to the Pro Football Hall of Fame, in Canton, Ohio a couple of times as well. I really enjoyed my visits there I as love football almost as much as I love baseball. There is something to be said about both places. When you are in the actual Halls where the athletes and other inductees are honored you feel like you are there with them in person. All of their accomplishments and gargantuan feats are listed and it is there as plain as plain can be for the visitor to drink in.
The numbers are concrete and the standards were set by the early figures in each sport, only to be broken and reset by those who have come after them. While there are certain players, currently playing, in each sport who I would love to see in their respective Halls of Fame (HoF) their induction doesn't come down to some sentimental nod to them but it comes down to their numbers. Do they have the numbers to get in? It is that cut and dried, as well it should be. That is why those HoF (and I am sure that it is the same with the HoF for Pro Basketball and Pro Hockey though I have never been to either) are places of honor and respect for those few people who have a plague or a bust in there.
I remember back in the mid 1980s when I heard that there would be a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I thought to myself, "How the heck can you have that, and why would you want to have that and what Rocker would agree to be admitted to such a place?" The reason that I thought this was that HoF are Establishment. They represent rules and procedures and everything that Rock and Roll is against. HoF represent the Man and Rock used to be about stickin' it to the man. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that was from the movie The School of Rock but it is nonetheless true and that movie was spot on about what Rock used to be, what it should be, and what it is no more.
I am amazed to see the Rock and Roll (RAR) HoF inductees speak about how they feel honored to be a part of such a place. It makes me gag to see so many Rockers sellout and put on a tuxedo and go and pay homage to the Man. It is a joke and a sham created to sell memorabilia, to make money and many Rockers have sold out to that idea. They have become fat, drunk, and lazy on their own spoils that they have forgotten about the music! THE MUSIC! It reminds me of the closing scene from George Orwell's Animal Farm where the pigs and the humans are all sitting around the table sharing a meal and the other animals stood outside looking in at the scene and they went from face to face looking at the pigs and humans and they could not tell who was pig and who was human. The pigs had become exactly what they were against at the beginning, they had become exactly what they told the other animals were their enemies. They had sold out! Far too many Rockers have become Establishment. Swine. Pigs.
I do tip my hat to the Sex Pistols who in 2006 refused to attend their induction ceremony calling the HOF," a piss stain" and saying in a hand written note that, "We're not coming. We're not your monkeys, so what?" I respect that kind of integrity.
Another thing that irks me is that there is a difference with the numbers of athletes compared to the influence of musicians. By that I mean how does one factor in who is worthy or not to be in the RAR HOF? Is it based on record sales? That would be said and mean that money is the bottom line to induction. Is it popularity? Is it how well the musicians played their instruments, sang their songs, drank the booze, or destroyed a hotel? What is the criteria?
You see music is subjective while athletic statistics are objective. Who can honestly say that Led Zeppelin is better than The Who? Both bands are great and when I was younger I would have said it was The Who, but as I have aged I have come to respect The Zep as one of the finest Rock and Roll bands that has ever existed. Yet, all of that is just my opinion and while there are many others who might agree with me it is still just opinion and not fact. Whether we like it or not, and whether he cheated through the use of steroids the fact is that Barry Bonds has hit more home runs than any other player in Major League Baseball history. Fact is that, in the NFL, no one has thrown more touchdown passes in a career than Brett Favre or in a season than Tom Brady. Those are facts and not subject to debate. Music can never be objective as well it shouldn't be.
So looking at the RAR HoF is looking at some perversion of the music itself. It is a fabricated institute invented to make money and nothing else. I know that I will never go to it, nor will I ever truly respect the rocker who willingly is inducted to it. Their music will have a taint on it, and that saddens me greatly because if you look at the list of inductees there are some great Rockers on it, and some people who are pop/rap/funk icons who have no business being in anything that claims to be Rock and Roll but their presence proves my point that the RAR HoF was never about ROCK AND ROLL. Seriously, Madonna, The Bee Gees, Parliament-Funkadelic, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five? Rockers? Hardly!
So, go if you want. You will never see me there. And that's the name of that tune!
MAC
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
10 Songs
1. I'll Remember You-Bob Dylan
2. Mandolin Wind-Rod Stewart
3. Revolution Rock-The Clash
4. Reggatta de Blanc-The Police
5. I'm Shipping Up to Boston-Dropkick Murphy's
6. It Don't Matter to the Sun-Rosie Thomas
7. Heard 'Em Say-Kanye West
8. Do You Realize??-The Flaming Lips
9. Goodnight Irene-Van Morrison
10. Even in the Quietest Moments-Supertramp
2. Mandolin Wind-Rod Stewart
3. Revolution Rock-The Clash
4. Reggatta de Blanc-The Police
5. I'm Shipping Up to Boston-Dropkick Murphy's
6. It Don't Matter to the Sun-Rosie Thomas
7. Heard 'Em Say-Kanye West
8. Do You Realize??-The Flaming Lips
9. Goodnight Irene-Van Morrison
10. Even in the Quietest Moments-Supertramp
Monday, February 11, 2008
It's Been Awile
I am experiencing what is known as writer's block. It just seems that I don't have anything really good enough, in my opinion, to blog about. It happens. Thoughts come and go and it seems that most of them, lately, are nothing major, nothing worthy of me tickling the keyboards with my digits.
So, I figured that the only way to combat this vacuum of interesting thought is to blog about it. It is a bit Seinfeldian. The post about nothing. I mean sooner or later in this very post I have to hit on something that is interesting, right? You will continue to read until you come across it, won't you?
In the mean time I will treat this post like my late ex-father-in-law would treat a conversation with his brother-in-law. They would dance around any real attention grabbing talk in the attempt to not be seen as rude. They were both Mainers and if you have ever met anyone from Maine, and I mean the real part of Maine-not the so called Flatlanders near the coast but the rough and tumble Woods Queers(their term not mine)-you would know that they are are a different breed of human being, if they are even that. I once heard them carry on a 40 minute conversation over the McChicken sandwich from MickeyD's when it was first introduced. One thing you can say about Mainers is that they don't talk much and even when they do speak they say even less.
I have made reference to my job here and there in previous blogs. My position has changed and while it is more busy and the nights fly by I am still afforded the ability to do a lot of thinking, internal soliloquizing, and soul searching. One thing that popped into my mind the other night is that I have experienced a lot of blessings in odd numbered years and more woes in even numbered years. It will be interesting if 2008 and holds course. I pray not, and there have been blessings in even numbered years in my life, but for the most part the Evens have been ones that have challenged me the most.
Case in point, I was born in 1965, receiving life is definitely a blessing so that was a good year. Though if you want to get technical I was lounging around in my mom's womb for a good portion of 1964-an even year-while waiting to be born. Even though I was in utero I was alive and kicking, no pun intended. Also, as an aside I have been talking with a co-worker who was a flower child of the 60s and I look at that time with disdain. I have told him as I am telling you that I am the only, and I mean only, good thing to have come out of the 60s.
1972 my father nearly lost his life in a car accident. In a contest between a Dodge Dart and an oak tree, the oak tree will always win. He broke his neck and was almost paralyzed. He was in the hospital for a few months. Miraculously he walked out the hospital on his own and no one would ever know that he came that close to death and paralysis. It was 1973 when he left the hospital by the way.
Fast forward to 1979. Had my first kiss in 79. Thank you Ms. Downes I remember you well.
That same year The Clash's London Calling album was released as was Pink Floyd's The Wall. And for that matter The Floyd also released Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and Animals in 1973, 75, and 77 respectively. Conversely the Go-Gos Vacation was released in 1982. Nuff Said!
1982, I was involved in my own car accident which I have mentioned in my first post. Lost my best friend in that accident. Didn't walk for a year and that year was 1983. Met Melissa in 82 but did not actually start dating her until 83.
Started Boston University in 83. Was invited not to return in 84.
Met my now ex-wife in 1985, and that can been seen as either a blessing or a curse. I will go with blessing...for now.
Graduated college in 1989. Two months later I got married.
1991 our first child was born. 93 saw the arrival of our second with the third joining us in 95.
Graduated seminary in 1997 and was ordained that year.
Good things happened in 1996 and 1998, the New York Yankees won the World Series both years.
Even more joyous in 1998 was the birth of our 4th child and 2002 saw our last child become family, so there were some good things in some even numbered years.
But then 2004 saw my wife leave me and divorce me. I left the ministry. And worst of all the Boston Red Sox broke their 86 year old streak of not winning a World Series by finally winning the Fall contest. You win some you lose some.
In 2006 I was hit by a car while riding my bicycle to work. As a result I lost my job and because of that I was forced to moved out of my apartment.
In 2007 I got an iPod!
2007 was a great year and I made many new friends and revived others that were dormant.
I really hope and pray that 2008 brings with it a lot of pleasant surprises. Yet, whatever it brings I will meet it with optimism and a steely resolve to overcome and thrive.
So there you have it. My post about nothing. Hope you were entertained and enlightened. If not then tough! It didn't cost you a thing to read this you critical snob. Just kidding! Thanks for stopping by and reading.
Be good but not boring!
Mac
So, I figured that the only way to combat this vacuum of interesting thought is to blog about it. It is a bit Seinfeldian. The post about nothing. I mean sooner or later in this very post I have to hit on something that is interesting, right? You will continue to read until you come across it, won't you?
In the mean time I will treat this post like my late ex-father-in-law would treat a conversation with his brother-in-law. They would dance around any real attention grabbing talk in the attempt to not be seen as rude. They were both Mainers and if you have ever met anyone from Maine, and I mean the real part of Maine-not the so called Flatlanders near the coast but the rough and tumble Woods Queers(their term not mine)-you would know that they are are a different breed of human being, if they are even that. I once heard them carry on a 40 minute conversation over the McChicken sandwich from MickeyD's when it was first introduced. One thing you can say about Mainers is that they don't talk much and even when they do speak they say even less.
I have made reference to my job here and there in previous blogs. My position has changed and while it is more busy and the nights fly by I am still afforded the ability to do a lot of thinking, internal soliloquizing, and soul searching. One thing that popped into my mind the other night is that I have experienced a lot of blessings in odd numbered years and more woes in even numbered years. It will be interesting if 2008 and holds course. I pray not, and there have been blessings in even numbered years in my life, but for the most part the Evens have been ones that have challenged me the most.
Case in point, I was born in 1965, receiving life is definitely a blessing so that was a good year. Though if you want to get technical I was lounging around in my mom's womb for a good portion of 1964-an even year-while waiting to be born. Even though I was in utero I was alive and kicking, no pun intended. Also, as an aside I have been talking with a co-worker who was a flower child of the 60s and I look at that time with disdain. I have told him as I am telling you that I am the only, and I mean only, good thing to have come out of the 60s.
1972 my father nearly lost his life in a car accident. In a contest between a Dodge Dart and an oak tree, the oak tree will always win. He broke his neck and was almost paralyzed. He was in the hospital for a few months. Miraculously he walked out the hospital on his own and no one would ever know that he came that close to death and paralysis. It was 1973 when he left the hospital by the way.
Fast forward to 1979. Had my first kiss in 79. Thank you Ms. Downes I remember you well.
That same year The Clash's London Calling album was released as was Pink Floyd's The Wall. And for that matter The Floyd also released Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and Animals in 1973, 75, and 77 respectively. Conversely the Go-Gos Vacation was released in 1982. Nuff Said!
1982, I was involved in my own car accident which I have mentioned in my first post. Lost my best friend in that accident. Didn't walk for a year and that year was 1983. Met Melissa in 82 but did not actually start dating her until 83.
Started Boston University in 83. Was invited not to return in 84.
Met my now ex-wife in 1985, and that can been seen as either a blessing or a curse. I will go with blessing...for now.
Graduated college in 1989. Two months later I got married.
1991 our first child was born. 93 saw the arrival of our second with the third joining us in 95.
Graduated seminary in 1997 and was ordained that year.
Good things happened in 1996 and 1998, the New York Yankees won the World Series both years.
Even more joyous in 1998 was the birth of our 4th child and 2002 saw our last child become family, so there were some good things in some even numbered years.
But then 2004 saw my wife leave me and divorce me. I left the ministry. And worst of all the Boston Red Sox broke their 86 year old streak of not winning a World Series by finally winning the Fall contest. You win some you lose some.
In 2006 I was hit by a car while riding my bicycle to work. As a result I lost my job and because of that I was forced to moved out of my apartment.
In 2007 I got an iPod!
2007 was a great year and I made many new friends and revived others that were dormant.
I really hope and pray that 2008 brings with it a lot of pleasant surprises. Yet, whatever it brings I will meet it with optimism and a steely resolve to overcome and thrive.
So there you have it. My post about nothing. Hope you were entertained and enlightened. If not then tough! It didn't cost you a thing to read this you critical snob. Just kidding! Thanks for stopping by and reading.
Be good but not boring!
Mac
Monday, January 21, 2008
10 Songs
1. Lord is it Mine-Supertramp
2. Walk on the Wild Side-Lou Reed
3. Whole Wide World-Wreckless Eric
4. Been Caught Stealing-Jane's Addiction
5. On Broadway-George Benson
6. Ordinary World-Duran Duran
7. Lonely Teardrops-Michael McDonald
8. Mannish Boy-Muddy Waters
9. Hoochie Coochie Man-Muddy Waters
10. Sex Machine-James Brown
They're great and inspirational, every last one of them. If you don't know then take a listen and go get them. Nuff said.
Mac
2. Walk on the Wild Side-Lou Reed
3. Whole Wide World-Wreckless Eric
4. Been Caught Stealing-Jane's Addiction
5. On Broadway-George Benson
6. Ordinary World-Duran Duran
7. Lonely Teardrops-Michael McDonald
8. Mannish Boy-Muddy Waters
9. Hoochie Coochie Man-Muddy Waters
10. Sex Machine-James Brown
They're great and inspirational, every last one of them. If you don't know then take a listen and go get them. Nuff said.
Mac
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Whose Head is That?
My hair was really long and I decided to get it cut. I anguished over this decision for a while because I kind of like the way that my hair has waves and body when it is longer. I think that it is nice and no I am not a metro-sexual by any means, I just like my hair.
I can always tell when it is getting time for a cut and that is when I put a ball cap on my head and there are shocks of curls that jut out near my ears. It looks like there is a bird under the hat and its wings are shooting out from under it.
Well, so there I was at the stylists (fancy name for a barber-oh and BTW I always have a woman cut my hair. I mean come on! I would rather have a woman running her hands through my hair than a man). OK, so I am at the stylist's getting my locks chopped when she does the obligatory mirror routine. You know, when she's finished and picks up a smaller mirror and stands behind you to show you its reflection into the enormo-mirror right in front of you.
I never know what to say then, other than "That'll do stylist. That'll do." Well she goes into her routine (which is sim-ya-lar to Sally Rand) and I am about to tell her that it will do when I notice a peculiarity in her mirror which is showing the crown of my head. I catch a glimpse of scalp! It was there as plain as plain could be: a bald spot, or to be more correct-a BALDING spot.
The sight freaked me out. Not because I am afraid to go bald or that I am aging gracefully. It freaked me out because I had not clue whatsoever that I was losing any hair anywhere! My hairline is not receding and I do not see clumps of hair in the drain after I have showered. So where has it gone?!
I really don't want to go bald but I cannot stop the process. And I am not one who will fight it with Rogaine, comb-overs, or toupees. If I go bald I go bald-even though I don't believe that I have a head that is shaped for baldness, but again that is beyond my control. I will embrace my baldness with pride and dignity. There it is in print. I WILL ACCEPT MY BALDNESS, if and when it comes.
I am fine with my grayness. I kind of dig my Salt-n-Pepa look to my hair-Oh Baby, Baby! I even was tolerant of that fact that my grayness is not just bound to my head. I have gray in my beard and moustache. I have seen gray underarm hair. Gray nostril hair. A gray chest hair or 5. Gray eyebrow hair, and yes dear reader a gray hair even there...on my toes. Where did you think that I was going to say? Well there too, happy?
My grayness and its encroachment into my life, and the way that I have dealt with it has led me to my current harmony with my impending baldness. You see I fought the good fight against graying. I plucked, cut and nipped any I could find but they always came back, and that with a vengeance. I even did the coloring thing with my beard and stache. It didn't look natural and I realized that I was engaged in a losing war. I knew that I would waste millions of dollars, years of my life, and needless worry to remove the gray.
Then one day, thumbing through the Good Book, that's the Bible for you heathens, I found the following passage: "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life."-Proverbs 16:31. OK, so I might not be as righteous as I should be but the passage made me realize that there are just some things in life that you can't change as much as you might want to and that you have to accept them. So I accepted the Graying of Me, and I will also accept my balding. So let it be written, so let it be done!
Be happy with who you are!
MAC
I can always tell when it is getting time for a cut and that is when I put a ball cap on my head and there are shocks of curls that jut out near my ears. It looks like there is a bird under the hat and its wings are shooting out from under it.
Well, so there I was at the stylists (fancy name for a barber-oh and BTW I always have a woman cut my hair. I mean come on! I would rather have a woman running her hands through my hair than a man). OK, so I am at the stylist's getting my locks chopped when she does the obligatory mirror routine. You know, when she's finished and picks up a smaller mirror and stands behind you to show you its reflection into the enormo-mirror right in front of you.
I never know what to say then, other than "That'll do stylist. That'll do." Well she goes into her routine (which is sim-ya-lar to Sally Rand) and I am about to tell her that it will do when I notice a peculiarity in her mirror which is showing the crown of my head. I catch a glimpse of scalp! It was there as plain as plain could be: a bald spot, or to be more correct-a BALDING spot.
The sight freaked me out. Not because I am afraid to go bald or that I am aging gracefully. It freaked me out because I had not clue whatsoever that I was losing any hair anywhere! My hairline is not receding and I do not see clumps of hair in the drain after I have showered. So where has it gone?!
I really don't want to go bald but I cannot stop the process. And I am not one who will fight it with Rogaine, comb-overs, or toupees. If I go bald I go bald-even though I don't believe that I have a head that is shaped for baldness, but again that is beyond my control. I will embrace my baldness with pride and dignity. There it is in print. I WILL ACCEPT MY BALDNESS, if and when it comes.
I am fine with my grayness. I kind of dig my Salt-n-Pepa look to my hair-Oh Baby, Baby! I even was tolerant of that fact that my grayness is not just bound to my head. I have gray in my beard and moustache. I have seen gray underarm hair. Gray nostril hair. A gray chest hair or 5. Gray eyebrow hair, and yes dear reader a gray hair even there...on my toes. Where did you think that I was going to say? Well there too, happy?
My grayness and its encroachment into my life, and the way that I have dealt with it has led me to my current harmony with my impending baldness. You see I fought the good fight against graying. I plucked, cut and nipped any I could find but they always came back, and that with a vengeance. I even did the coloring thing with my beard and stache. It didn't look natural and I realized that I was engaged in a losing war. I knew that I would waste millions of dollars, years of my life, and needless worry to remove the gray.
Then one day, thumbing through the Good Book, that's the Bible for you heathens, I found the following passage: "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life."-Proverbs 16:31. OK, so I might not be as righteous as I should be but the passage made me realize that there are just some things in life that you can't change as much as you might want to and that you have to accept them. So I accepted the Graying of Me, and I will also accept my balding. So let it be written, so let it be done!
Be happy with who you are!
MAC
Friday, January 4, 2008
2008
I guess that I should have a post that ties the loose ends of 2007 while cracking open 2008. It is in the Blogger's Rule Book that this MUST happen at some point in time within the first week of a new year. So, forced by that rule, I offer this installment of Here I Stand...
2007, I must admit, was a very good year for me. No I didn't win the Powerball/Mega Millions/Big Game lottery and no I did not find Mrs. Right, and no I did not get my dream job of lying on a tropical beach somewhere soaking up the tropical sun. What I did do was make it through the year with my head and life up. I am far better off now than I was a year ago and I owe that first and foremost to God. He has richly blessed me beyond my wildest imagination. I praise Him for His tender mercies.
I also owe a ginormous debt of gratitude to my friends Mike and Pam and their families. These two people are the closest thing that you will find if you are looking for the model of a Christian man and woman. They amaze me constantly with their love and compassion and on top of that they share my twisted sense of humor.
I owe thanks to my friend Kyle who, though I moved 1,000 miles away from him, continues to keep in touch regularly and inspires me to keep looking up. He is a great guy and one of the very few silver linings in the dark cloud that has been the last four years since my divorce. We have been through a lot in our time at The Pier and his humor kept me afloat (forgive the bad pun).
I owe thanks to Erin. A new friend who, in a short period of time, has crawled into my heart and makes my life brighter. She is a kindred spirit who can speak volumes with a single glance. She lights up a room upon entering and I don't know one single person who doesn't love her and who doesn't want her around. She is a rarity in today's world and I am honored to have her in my life!
I owe thanks to Melissa. An angel from my past who re-appeared in my life and has lifted me up in ways that only she could. She is a class act and I am a better person for knowing her. My love for her is everlasting and I am tinkled pink that she is doing well with a great husband and beautiful children. I still owe her for what she has done in my live over 25 years ago, so with that in mind I will always be in her debt.
I look forward to what 2008 has in store but for the first time in a very long time I am not content with waiting for it to come to me. This year I will run to it and enjoy each new adventure with all of the wonder that I can muster. 2008 will find me Wookin' Pa Nub and hopefully finding it. I have stood on the brink and stared into the abyss. What I saw I will keep to myself but the abyss stared back, and after trembling over it for such a long time I remembered laughter (Does anyone remember laughter?-Yes Robert, I do). I laughed in its faced and remembered who I am. I remembered whose I am. And I remembered joy!
May God grant you a peace-filled-Christ-blessed 2008!
2007, I must admit, was a very good year for me. No I didn't win the Powerball/Mega Millions/Big Game lottery and no I did not find Mrs. Right, and no I did not get my dream job of lying on a tropical beach somewhere soaking up the tropical sun. What I did do was make it through the year with my head and life up. I am far better off now than I was a year ago and I owe that first and foremost to God. He has richly blessed me beyond my wildest imagination. I praise Him for His tender mercies.
I also owe a ginormous debt of gratitude to my friends Mike and Pam and their families. These two people are the closest thing that you will find if you are looking for the model of a Christian man and woman. They amaze me constantly with their love and compassion and on top of that they share my twisted sense of humor.
I owe thanks to my friend Kyle who, though I moved 1,000 miles away from him, continues to keep in touch regularly and inspires me to keep looking up. He is a great guy and one of the very few silver linings in the dark cloud that has been the last four years since my divorce. We have been through a lot in our time at The Pier and his humor kept me afloat (forgive the bad pun).
I owe thanks to Erin. A new friend who, in a short period of time, has crawled into my heart and makes my life brighter. She is a kindred spirit who can speak volumes with a single glance. She lights up a room upon entering and I don't know one single person who doesn't love her and who doesn't want her around. She is a rarity in today's world and I am honored to have her in my life!
I owe thanks to Melissa. An angel from my past who re-appeared in my life and has lifted me up in ways that only she could. She is a class act and I am a better person for knowing her. My love for her is everlasting and I am tinkled pink that she is doing well with a great husband and beautiful children. I still owe her for what she has done in my live over 25 years ago, so with that in mind I will always be in her debt.
I look forward to what 2008 has in store but for the first time in a very long time I am not content with waiting for it to come to me. This year I will run to it and enjoy each new adventure with all of the wonder that I can muster. 2008 will find me Wookin' Pa Nub and hopefully finding it. I have stood on the brink and stared into the abyss. What I saw I will keep to myself but the abyss stared back, and after trembling over it for such a long time I remembered laughter (Does anyone remember laughter?-Yes Robert, I do). I laughed in its faced and remembered who I am. I remembered whose I am. And I remembered joy!
May God grant you a peace-filled-Christ-blessed 2008!
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