Anglo-files
When I was in seventh grade, a girl and her family moved to Modesto. Her father worked for Shell Development, as did the father of my buddy, David. If I remember the origin story correctly, David attended a company picnic and there became aware of this girl, Carolyn Grayson. Carolyn and her family were from England. Now to this point, I’d never met someone from England (or anywhere in Europe) and foreign countries seemed so exotic. Also, it was a time when my friends and I were fully into James Bond and spy stuff. So it amused me to joke and pretend that Carolyn was a spy from the UK that was undercover a grade ahead of me at school. I don’t think I ever actually spoke to her, but we (I) had a grand time running all over school and the local neighborhood pretending to spy on her and also avoid her being able to spy on me. Look, it all made sense when I was 13.
I think her family moved away after that year. Or maybe the next. Either way, when I went into eighth grade, she went to a different school and I never saw her again. Here’s the incredibly dorky and embarrassing (and possibly alarming and worrying part). For some time thereafter, to continue my little espionage fantasy game, I would wave at passing aircraft as if it were Carolyn (or one of her agents) in the plane doing a fly over reconnaissance. God! how lame I was (and still am I suppose)!
I think this is the house where she lived while in Modesto.
The college-wide Planning & Budget Committee meeting was this morning. It was for staff and students to give testimony about their reaction to the proposed cuts for next year. For the most part, I was VERY impressed with the speeches that were given. One after another, people spoke for up to three minutes, offering evidence and arguments about why this or that program or position should be spared. It certainly gave me a lot to think about. I really appreciated the civil tone of most of the people.
Until this one student, speaking in a British accent (that I’m not entirely convinced was real) took his turn and really was pretty rude. He was even admonished by the co-chair of the committee to keep things civil. Well, his attitude was a real turn off. Honestly, it caused me to stop listening, both to him and to everyone who followed him.
I ask the question: Do we think that such incivility (tempting though it may be) helps or hurts the causes for which we fight?
Comment dit-on, l’anecdote?
I studied French for several years starting in grade 7. During my first full year of French (grade 8), I was in French club with several of my friends, Clint, Bill, Sam, Lisette, and others. I have a couple of special memories of those days.
- There was a passage from our textbook or something that said (paraphrasing), “Carol intended to say, ‘Quel dommage!’, which means, ‘That’s too bad!’ (‘What a pity!’) But instead she said, ‘Quel fromage!’, which means, ‘That’s cheese!'”
For whatever reason, this has always amused me and I think of it every time cheese becomes the topic of conversation. - My friend, Bill (Guillaume), and I wrote and were performing a little skit. For some parts, we were using words and phrases that we really hadn’t learned yet. We wanted to say, “My wife left me.” but we didn’t know the verb, to leave, so we looked up in our French-English dictionary how to say “left”. So the line I delivered was, “Ma femme a gauche moi.” Our teacher, Mrs. Egenberger just started laughing and laughing.
Sometimes I still say, “Ma femme a gauche moi”, and of course, nobody knows what I’m talking about.
Que linda esta la manana
So, I’ve been watching a lot of old television lately. I’ve watched several episodes of The Rockford Files, two entire seasons of Magnum PI, and tonight I watched four episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man and one of The Bionic Woman. I have Emergency and Simon & Simon ready to view on Netflix. These are all shows from my childhood and it’s definitely nostalgic. It’s interesting to see how things were portrayed back then.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be 41. Birthdays to me are so very unimportant. I guarantee I won’t feel any different tomorrow than I did today. I rather dislike my birthday actually. A month ago, I requested the day off work so that I wouldn’t have to be there for everyone’s birthday wishes for me. My supervisor asked if it would be ok if I was given a card (which is what we do for everyone). I told her that I would prefer not. Well, I was given a card anyway. As I read it, I was nearly overwhelmed with loneliness. But this year isn’t as bad as last year was. Last year, a girl I was dating decided to break it off the evening before my birthday (hey, that’s today!). It was really hard on me. And the next day I had to go into work where my coworkers had decorated my work area for me. It was my 40th birthday so they tried to kick it up a notch. I did expect that they were going to do something so despite feeling like crap, I put on a brave face and attempted to cheerfully go along with it all. So the crappy part wasn’t turning 40. Big whoop. The crappy part was being dumped and especially that on my birthday, I had to act happy in order to make everyone else feel good.
So let us all agree that I do not care to celebrate my birthday. It’s nothing special. I think it’s much more significant to celebrate my conception day. Good luck figuring out when that was. 🙂
Puccini deux
I mentioned before that I was in an opera a few years ago, Gianni Schicci. I want to relate a couple more anecdotes from that experience.
The first one I find amusing, but I wonder if anyone else will. I do often crack myself up and I often suspect that I am far more impressed with my witicisms than are others.
Anyway, I was receiving some acting instruction from the assistant director. He was telling me that as he watched me perform, he could really see the inner dialogue that my character was having, but that my gestures weren’t large enough for the rear of the house to see. I asked if what I was doing was somehow wrong. He said no, but my gesticulations (Good word!!) needed to be bigger if the back row was going to see them. I replied that my more subtle movements were a gift to the front rows.
Well I found it amusing.
Second story. There was a line that I was to sing, “They’re the cream of the crop!” My first note was the same as the last note of the preceding line, which someone else was singing. To make sure that I came in on key, I would sort of hum along with the line before mine. Well, I was doing it quietly, but I didn’t think about the fact that I was essentially leaning over another actor’s shoulder such that my mouth was very close to his ear. So, unknown to me, my fellow cast mates took to poking fun at me by mimicking me, “mmmm mmmm mmmm, mmmmmm mmmm mmmmmm THEY’RE THE CREAM OF THE CROP!” When I found out, I thought it was hilarious! And in a way, I felt like I belonged to this group.
So, a few months later, when I went to get a tattoo, I had that phrase of music applied around my left bicep.
Someone answer me before I pull out the plug
I am a fan of witty and clever use of language. I love a good turn of phrase. And I think some words are just good words.
A few years ago I had a good buddy, Matt. Matt was the accompanist at the college where I work, and where I was taking classes. Matt loved words too, and when he heard one that he particularly appreciated he would respond with, “Good word!”
One semester, I was in an opera being staged by the music department. During one of the rehearsals, I was on stage with the music director, and Matt was seated at the keyboard beneath the stage, in the orchestra pit. The director was giving me some acting advice/instruction; something along the lines of, “move your arms thusly” or “point at that thing when this action is taking place”. I don’t really remember. Anyway, I responded to what she was saying by using the word “gesticulate”. At the same time, I pointed ‘through’ the stage to where Matt was sitting as if to cue his response. Sure enough, Matt clapped his hands a couple of times and exclaimed, “Good word!”
Good memory! God, I miss Matt!
I just want your extra time and…
Today’s post brought to you by the question: If you had a time machine that only let you spend one hour in a different time, what date would you go to?
If I spent some time thinking about it, I might come up with some different ideas, but my first reaction is that I would like to go back to February or March of 1987 and spend an hour talking to my younger self. Certainly I would give myself some tips about what to do and where to invest money (a la Biff in Back to the Future). But the most important thing I would tell myself is to go for it and kiss Angel.
I have never been, very forward/bold/assertive/brave. At the age of 17, I had never kissed a girl, and my first ‘girlfriend’ was Angel with whom I was in a play. She was 15 and we were both a bit shy. We only were together for a couple weeks and it was all so awkward and innocent; all we ever did was hold hands. I had the opportunity to kiss her, but I was too shy and had no idea how to approach doing so.
It would be 4 more years before my first kiss. I have always regretted not going for it.
A Backstory in two Acts
Prologue
I think perhaps that I should have written this post first. I hope that it will serve as an introduction as well as provide explanation and perhaps justification for the existence of this collection of ramblings.
Act I – Wherein we meet the protagonist
I am Seán, your narrator and guide. I am 40 years old as of this writing. I live in the Central Valley of California, in the grand metropolis of Modesto. I have many interests that I hope to share with you over time. These include music, dance, television, movies, languages, technology, role-playing games, Catholicism (my faith tradition), science fiction, photography, and many other things. I am single and trying to remain patient until the right woman comes into my life.
I have a very goofy sense of humor sometimes. Not everyone gets me. I hope that over time, you will.
- Bands/Artists: Barenaked Ladies, Depeche Mode, Garbage, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Roberto Leal
- Movies: Aliens, Lethal Weapon, Die Hard, Strictly Ballroom, Princess Bride, Matrix, Big Trouble in Little China, Inception
- TV (Currently): Chuck, Castle, How I Met Your Mother, The Good Wife, Modern Family, Big Bang Theory, Smallville, Blue Bloods, V, Dexter, True Blood, Mad Men
- TV (All time): Sopranos, 24, Firefly, Heroes (but only season 1)
Act II – Motivations are revealed
Earlier this week, a young lady acquaintance of mine, Rachel, posted on one of her blogs that she had begun this WordPress postaday2011 challenge. This inspired me to make a similar attempt. Another friend of mine, Betty is a very creative individual and this kind of endeavor is right up her alley. Being friends with people like Rachel and Betty motivates me to try to be more creative and expressive. So I happily hitch my wagon to their stars and try to be a content generator.
Here is a link to the original post of the WordPress challenge http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2010/12/29/welcome-to-the-daily-post/.
Epilogue
I am not the king of follow-through. Your encouragement and support will be invaluable if I am to be anywhere near successful with this. Please and thank you.
Christmas Eve
So it’s almost 7pm on Christmas Eve. I leave tomorrow for a visit to Alaska. As ever, with something big pending, I am experiencing general anxiety. I could have spent the money for this trip in many other ways. As soon as I get back. I have to begin moving into a new place that I’m not sure I can afford. I have very little money to spend and I’m not sure how I’m getting to the airport.
What an opportunity to surrender to God.
I hold on to my illusion of control so fiercely but what has that illusion ever got me? I need to learn to let go. Of control; of Letitia. Anybody reading this, please pray for me. Pray that I learn to seek God and trust Him with my life. Thanks.
Why blog?
Why not? I’m inspired by a blog I was rereading from a year ago. It was “I found some of your life” and it was quite funny. This will not be funny. This will be mopey and melancholic. I’ll probably get get bored in a few weeks and never post again. If it takes that long.
I want to say that I really miss living with Letitia. There were things about it that sucked but it provided a lot of security. I’m very unsettled these days. I keep wondering when I’ll get back to feeling alright. (Nod to Joe Cocker.) That’s us on the right. Letitia, I miss you. I miss us.
Enough for today? Yeah, I think so.
