Month: August 2013

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Both Sides of the Story

“Be sure, before we close our eyes, don’t walk away from here. We must hear both sides of the story.” – Phil Collins

I met a woman the other day who had a bubbly personality, a zest for life, and a mouth that talked nonstop about anything and everything under the sun. It was refreshing to encounter someone like that because it seems like most people I run into are, how shall I say it, restrained. It was good to see someone out there enjoying life and being loud and proud about it. We had a sparkling conversation (when I was able to get a word in edgewise), and I thought she would make an excellent friend. It seemed like our personalities meshed very well.

Then I found out she had just lost her mother two days before we met, and the joyous personality I had seen was shown to be her attempt to ignore her true feelings about it all. After the truth came out I saw everything she had told me in a completely different light, with the knowledge that hers was a sad soul in need of a friend. Notice how I thought we would make good friends before the revelation, and that didn’t change one iota after knowing what I did about her subterfuge. I could completely understand it, and it endeared her to me even more, that she wanted to appear strong. But it’s okay to be weak with friends. We’re there for each other. Continue reading “Both Sides of the Story”

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Not Easy Being Green

“I brought sand to the beach cause my beach is better. You can keep ya beach cause that beach whatever.” – Jay-Z

When I was young and I began a modest music collection, I remember talking to some people who were older who had scads of records and tapes. I had been so proud of my Back to the Future soundtrack and my cassette of Thriller when they had the entire David Bowie, Rolling Stones, and Grateful Dead catalogs. Then I got older and began reading thick books. The first time I read a Stephen King book from start to finish I was feeling so full of myself until I talked to someone who had read ten of his books. That’s how I learned that you should never compare yourself with anyone else. Continue reading “Not Easy Being Green”

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Genre Hopping

I was perusing Freshly Pressed this evening when I came across a blog post that features an interesting question that I’ve never really thought about before, but also one that I want to explore. So, at the risk of being a copycat, I want to write on the same topic. Please forgive me if I … Continue reading Genre Hopping

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Painting Lines

“… but painting those lines, it was all he had ever known.”

His ancient eyes carefully surveyed the freshly painted thick white line as it shone brightly in the earliest morning hours. He sat on a large machine that made wide turns in a spectacular fashion and purred like a kitten, a quite incongruous sensation when seen and heard at the same time. But he had a job to do, one that he had done more times than even he could remember, which was also part of the reason why he studied that white line for so long. Reputation was a very important thing in his business, in any business really, but painting those lines, it was all he had ever known.

He remembered going out with his father on weekday mornings before tea time, when only the crows would be out, dancing on telephone wires and watching them with those spectacle eyes. His dad would open the large shed, that reminded him of a barn with its massive size, and back out the industrial-sized lawn mower. Ironically, what he recalled most about that behemoth was the name on its side, KAT. He wondered why they would have misspelled the word “cat” but he kept it to himself. The older man would sit him up on the top of the mower with his colossal hands until he could feel its vibrations. They made him have to pee, but he kept that to himself as well. Continue reading “Painting Lines”