I just deleted every bookmark on my web browser

I am at a loss. This is traumatic. I don't even know the ramifications of such a loss. All of that information condensed at the click of a button, poof, gone. I tried to do a system restore, no luck, nada. This is a huge blow to my opinion of google chrome. Might be switching browsers.

Ambitious Article Anxiety

I've been working on my ambitious article for this class, and my research has been going well. Yesterday, though, I got an idea for another article. I like the idea so much I toyed with changing my ambitious article to this new idea. I quickly shrugged off doing so, but the idea keeps scratching at my conscious mind, so I figured maybe typing it up as a blog would help alleviate this want for change.

I know someone who has worked as a street sweeper for over two decades. I want to document a day in his life and interview him about his job. I want to do this to showcase or spotlight the pride that he takes in doing his job, one most people probably take for granted.... maybe next semester I can do this.

Worst Film Criteria

So, I've been racking my brain to figure out what movie I consider to be the worst piece of crap of all time. I cannot seem to narrow my list of crap down to one film. I think it is because there are so many different elements to a film, that excellence in one area can overshadow a poor production. A great cast can do wonders with a horrible script. Likewise, a great director can pull an academy-award-winning performance out of a terrible actor. Ironically, an all-around terrible movie: terrible plot, acting, directing etc. usually is so terrible that it becomes good, or a cult classic. For every good aspect of a film, it should have two bad aspects. It also should have a reasonable level of excitement/expectations surrounding it prior to its premiere or viewing. That's my criteria for worst flick, a 2:1 ratio, and disappointment.

Get this one...

A friend of mine, well, more of a friend of one of my really good friends, passed away last week. His death was related to drug use. C'est la vie and all that. The meat and potatoes of this story came from a status update on Facebook. See, merely two days after my friend passed away, someone whom the deceased had an altercation with nearly 5 years ago, over some petty nonsense, decided to declare his death as a reason to celebrate the upcoming Easter holiday; he went on to hail the loss of life as a reason to drink and celebrate karma, and then for added insult wished that the deceased's father would shortly follow him to the grave.Well, after that, I put up a status of my own tearing into this jerk, but my good friend commented on the disparaging status update. Eventually, someone close to the jerk convinced him to delete it, or he took it down on his own because of guilt. Here's the kicker, the jerk came to the wake, but stayed outside in his car while his mother came inside to seek out my friend, and make sure it was okay, indirectly make sure, for her son the jerk to come in and pay respects. Pay respects? I cannot lie, if the jerk came inside I would have knocked him out. You want to pay respects? Don't turn the loss of life into a spectacle for your egotistical purposes. Delete the status, apologize, and stay far away from the services of someone you clearly dislike.  What are people becoming?

I've watched one and a half movies this semester.

On top of that, I just went to turn on my television, but realized it has been unplugged now for weeks. I've been ridiculously busy. I've managed however to watch one and a half movies over the span of the semester, due to the power of my Amazon Kindle Fire. Both films had been on my must-see list for quite some time now, so once I found some free time, I decided to give them a go, them being Sam Peckinpah's "The Wild Bunch" and Charlie Kaufman's "Synecdoche New York." The latter film has yet to be completed, as I so far only managed to watch half of it roughly, in 15-minute increments. I'll hold off discussing that for a later blog. I will talk about The Wild Bunch. Peckinpah's western has become easily one of my top ten favorite films, my top 3 favorite films of the western genre, and probably the definitive film that accurately sums up the human condition in all its confusing, bloody, and meaningless existence. Peckinpah'sThe Wild Bunch is one of those movies that make you wonder how such a violent piece of cinema could possibly be made by the Hollywood system of the 60's, and it also inspires nostalgia because for all that it is, contemporary Hollywood cannot not produce such a film without altering it into a standard death.

The Wild Bunch is a western, filled with western motifs, but it is set just prior to the first World War. These motifs no longer have any place or fit in the modern world, therefore, in the form of outlaws, bank robbers, and mercenary lawmen, they are being pushed farther and farther south, into Latin America, where they continue after that cliche reward, one last robbery, the big one, that they succeed in gaining, yet they do not stop being what they are because they cannot live any other way. The western genre is just the surface of what this film actually is. The Wild Bunch is psychologically keen in its examination of humanity, how people can change from one minute to the next, how women are tempted into tempting men, and how desire urges us towards extinction.

The honorable Mr. Chewie Barka

So, I purchased a puppy some time back in December. . I bought the Chew when he was only 11 pounds. He is a "designer hybrid" GoldenDoodle, half golden retriever, half poodle. Once when we were at a dog park in Winthrop, some older man with a golden retriever asked me about my dog's breed, so I told him exactly that of a GoldenDoodle. He responded condescendingly "he's just a mutt, then!" I replied "you're just a mutt." But, the man was correct; Chewie is just a mutt... but he is my mutt. I know I overpaid for him, and I know I brought him home for the wrong reason(an ex). Everything about the selection--from his eventual size(65-90 pounds), to the demands a puppy has, demands that its owner must meet--was wrong and a bad move at the time I made it. I simply do not care. Damn em all. I will hit the road with my mutt and never look back. Chewie is number 2 on my hierarchy of importance, maybe even number 1B. He and I have a pretty decent thing going. I feed him and ensure his belly gets scratched. In return, he provides stability and some kind of schedule I must adhere to because he relies on me.

He is 31 pounds now and closing in on 5-months old. In the pic above, he was still a wee lad.In the pic on the left he has expanded girthily(sp?). My how time flies

Rizzo and Antonio

So after doing a favor for a friend that consisted of a free haircut for the mange of hair atop my skull, I accompanied him to a local youth basketball game, so he and another friend of mine could coach their basketball team. I really did not want to go along for this. I really wanted to go home, walk my dog, and get to work on this blog. I decided to tag along, with the intentions of making an early exit from the gym the first chance afforded to me. This chance made itself known fairly quick. We arrived and my other buddy informed us that only two players showed up for their game. Eventually a third player arrived, but this was not enough to field a team. The buddy I arrived with did not want to be there, I could tell, he began pushing for a forfeit. My other buddy readily agreed with him, something I found odd, but what the hell, I wanted to leave. As they called over the league coordinator to inform him of their situation, he presented them with two alternative choices: gather up some older kids and take a loss on paper but still play the game with a chance to win, or pick up some younger kids and play for a full victory. What was most important to me at that moment is that the coordinator never mentioned a word about forfeiting.

This took me aback, it also took my coaching buddies aback also. They never once considered his alternatives, and even once they became options, it was like they wanted nothing more than to forfeit... but they could not do so now. The game as they saw it was about them, how could it not be? The players were not their primary concern, especially since all of their starters were absent and the only players they had were bench warmers, including Rizzo, a small boy no older than thirteen, with braces, and the constant reminder that he had diabetes, something the coaches would constantly utter. Why? I have no clue. Maybe, they used it as an excuse as to not play the kid as much as they should. Now, however, they would have to play him the entire 32 minutes. First they had a choice, older kids or younger. I strongly voiced my opinion here; they had to play to win. The oldest player of theirs soundly agreed with me. And just like that, a slew of younger kids from 11-13 years of age swarmed us for the chance to play against a team of 14-15 year old opponents. Antonio was one of the new recruits and he was also the youngest. My coaching friends went through the motions, they were never into it. I on the other hand wished more than anything that I knew the game of basketball because their team could have pulled it off with the right guidance. Long story short of it though is this: Rizzo got to play the entire game, he got to prove to himself that he could go despite whatever labels have been attached to him; and Antonio hit 6 three-point baskets. Despite the loss, he was the focus after the game as both teams and all spectators offered him congratulations. The amount of confidence these boys gained today probably cannot be measured... I felt good afterwards, and I did not even do anything but cheer them on. With one more out of control ego present on the coaching staff(my own  ego included) these kids might not have gotten these personal victories and that would have been a shame.

Distractions

How easily am I distracted. I got a whole helluva' lot going on right now. Case in point: I had to cancel my spring break plans to San Diego to see my wife. The military decided to send her off somewhere in the desert. They have her leaving on the holiday tomorrow, but the problem is she is just finding out about this. They told her Thursday. I tend to overreact often, but in this situation I like to think I gave the appropriate response. I canceled my vacation and began looking for last minute flights out of Boston and hotels for the next day. Only someone who had good intentions, questionable, wanted to assist me. I told them I had it under control. Now this person is right over my shoulder, mind you, insisting despite my firm answer. As I am trying to multi-task, the same question is being tossed at me in different forms: "What can I do to help you?, Is there anything I can do?, See if there are any AAA awards benefits?" etc. to the point where I no longer know what I am looking for on the computer, on Orbitz and Priceline and many other travel websites. Then, I become rude, relocate somewhere quiet, and frantically find some travel arrangements...

That lead me to Logan Airport the next day at check-in, an hour prior to my flight's departure. Only, somehow, despite having a clear plan of attack in constructing a flight itinerary, I chose the month of March for my departure date on Orbitz, not the month of February. I need space, I need time to do things quietly, with little distractions, but I also appreciate help and assistance. Not bombarding me with questions is assisting me if I ask to be left alone momentarily to book my flight without distraction. I guess this is just me being careless, as usual; the world tells me I need to focus and pay attention. Pay attention. In crisis mode at the airport, I paid enough attention to dash from terminal A to terminal C to secure the last seat on a Jet Blue flight heading to Long Beach California, a long way from San Diego, where she and I went to Sea World yesterday, and an even longer way from my eventual arrival of Texas to see my wife off as she travels into harm's way. Yet, I need to pay attention more when it counts, and not be so easily distracted.

Express Glasses

Sometimes, I'll wear eye glasses despite my 20/20 vision. There's a reason for this. I cannot maintain eye contact without a barrier between my gaze and whomever meets it with his or her own. At times, it physically hurts me to maintain such communication. That's what eye contact is, standard communication. When I wear my glasses, reality is filtered through their lenses, like a broadcast transmitted by a television screen, and believe me; I can watch t.v. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Once I'm able to maintain eye contact with someone, I lose track of what is being discussed because I cannot decipher mood and nonverbal language while simultaneously following the conversation, which, like all convos I have ever had, easily trails off into a minute-long dud. I suffer from inattentive-ADHD and NLVD, non-verbal learning disorder, which is on the autism spectrum. This blog will be about how I deal with these issues because they have gone undiagnosed throughout my entire life... until now, I thought I was normal, or, how I saw the world, perceived it, interacted with it, is how everyone else did also.

But, somewhere, deep inside my subconscious mind, I must have known something wasn't right, so I went to the mall and bought a pair of glasses that help me see a little clearer; and since then my life has not been the same.