November 2004 Archives
They always say that relationships take work. That they are excercises in sacrifice and compromise. They are built on trust and they are sustained by the powers of forgiveness. That doesn't even begin to cut the ice.
Surprisingly, it was only a matter of a few short days before Espaldita came around to see the benefits of my "journeys" around the neighborhood. While she was hurt in the beginning, and to put it mildly, our relationship was strained, we've both come to a point where we can see these run arounds as equally beneficial. If anything, she is more supportive now than ever before.
Yet, in an unexpected twist - while our relationship is growing stronger, our support structure appears to be collapsing beneath us. Where once it seemed our pace was unfettered, now an outside force seems to be measuring the strides we are able to take. I can only hope that by continuing what has worked for us, the benefits will reach out to the rest of my network. It doesn't make sense that running further into the unfamiliar each day will help anything -- but it has. It really has. Where we were setting limits and not meeting them before -- now Espaldita and I are pushing those fictional boundaries further each day. But in not having the support, our pace has slackened - and while we're making progress in measure -- something tells me that Espaldita and I won't be able to reap the benefits of our strengthened relationship without those who helped us through the rough patches. I am perplexed that while in the early stages of our ventures I felt myself a towering man, now that we are facing the path virtually alone -- I am cut down -- and my legs are as if toothpicks beneath a bowling ball.
So that I can stop flaying this dead horse - while our relationship has grown stronger - the relationships Espaldita and I share with those around us seem to be detoriating. Unfortunately, we both feel we're on the right path. We can't deny the progress we've made to appease the few who have lagged behind. Call it being stubborn, then call the kettle black. Either you're with us, or against us. Either way -- you're getting iced afterwards.
Many of you dear readers that have been following along with me for some time will no doubt be able to recall successive entries that were splashed across these pages back in August . The first was an explanatory introduction that detailed my rendition of memorable, err, hair razing events that had occurred nearly two years prior during the Thanksgiving season. That detail was clarified in the follow-up entry -- a featured guest entry from my cousin Jennifer.
(I am rather surprised to see that those entries occurred such a relatively short time ago. I suppose this time gap with reality was brought about by the massive amounts of confusion molecules that were pumping to and fro throughout my body in the first two months following my move.)
Perhaps it was the festive mood of the holidays. Perhaps it was a long swelling desire to recapture the headlines here. Perhaps it was the five margaritas she consumed early in the evening combined with the competitive environment - but Jennifer has managed to throw herself back into the spotlight with an event that nearly tops her flaming extravaganza of 2002.
The evening following a wonderful Thanksgiving found a large portion of the Yezbick clan gathered together at Grandmother's house for the delights of pizza, conversation and games - namely, a hard fought match of Spoons. For those of you who haven't had the good fortune of playing the fast paced card game known as spoons - a short explanatory note follows of our version:
Spoons: A number of players gather around a table having a number of spoons one short of the number of players evenly spaced upon the center of the table so that each player has equal opportunity to reach for and grab a spoon. Two decks of playing cards minus the jokers are shuffled and each player is dealt four cards. The dealer places the rest of the deck by their side and draws from the deck. In an effort to acquire four of a kind - the dealer then discards to their right -- the discard being acquired by the next player. The dealer continues to draw and discard and the entire process spreads around the table -- until one player draws four of a kind - at which point they reach for a spoon. All other players must then grab a spoon, of which there is one less than the amount of players, or face a penalty for their lack of reflexes (fake outs are allowed and encouraged - where if a player touches a spoon and a winning hand has not been drawn - that player is docked a point and the round continues). One can either immediately expel the player lacking a spoon from the circle, remove a spoon and play until only two players and one spoon is left -- or play a certain amount of rounds -- docking players points in each round -- so that at the end of a certain number of rounds the player with the least points wins.
Everybody on board? Good.
Well then. At this particularly festive match of spoons, and in the midst of heavy competition -- the air began to fill with a giddy thickness. Giggles and laughing spasms began to accumulate in number, adults began slipping back to childhood and a merry time was being had by all. Spoons were flying as hands were flailing. It was under these circumstances then that Jennifer found it necessary to demonstrate what she thought to be the winning strategy to acquire the desired spoon.
With the raucous din raising everyone's spirits - and the spirits raising the raucous din -- Jennifer proceeded to fling herself across a table which had been extended by two leaves much like a killer whale hurtles itself ashore to capture the desired seal. Archival footage recorded at such high speeds that the recollection has slowed it in order to capture every detail. There was Jennifer -- flying through the air -- and there was everyone else around the table - all wide eyes and teeth laughing giddily - all turning to watch as the slow descent began on the far edge of the table. Slowly she seemed to stretch out - her extended reach beginning to hone in on her treasured spoon. Just as slowly she made her first surface contact -- and in a slight hesitation of time -- all was still.
The second hand upon the wall had not the chance to proceed before a loud SNAP like a thunderclap blanketed the room. Like an elevator free falling between floors, a hydraulic lift malfunctioning -- the extension and leaf of the table succumbed to the forces of gravity - and the divine Ms. Jennifer found herself peering up to faces locked between laughs. It seemed like five minutes passed before we all realized that a good quarter of the table was now being supported only by the knees of those upon whom it had fallen. Here I find my memory quite fails me as to what followed. I remember a sheepish apology followed by momentary concern for all those knees...Soon after laughter returned and a great halo of humiliation began to rise around the fallen. It seemed we all had the opportunity to console Jennifer in her moment of guilt -- and when at last she was sufficiently freed from those horrific immediate moments of embarrassment -- I turned to her and said:
"Well, the important thing is -- better you than me."
So you see -- we all have something we can be thankful for!
I hope everybody had as great a Thanksgiving as myself -- it was wonderful.
It's snowing relatives...
My computer continues to attempt to drive me insane by breaking down every chance it gets. Tomorrow, and basically the rest of the week - it is supposed to rain up here in the glovely state of Michigan. We were fortunate to have 60 degree weather today - but winter is just around the bend. In short -- cabin fever may soon take hold. In light of that - and as a way of indulging in my own personal photo fetish -- I sat in front of the dinosaur computer upstairs and arranged a set of favorites so that you can take a cyber hike with me tomorrow during your break. It isn't a polished, professional piece -- but it is kinda fun to zone out to if you have some peaceful music. Occasionally you may say to yourself, "Bwah? But how did I get here?" If this occurs - just quickly allow your imagination to envelop your world once more and continue on our cyber trails (many years later - i've added to the faves - and thus removed the links.)
(quick note -- I find it works best with short intervals -- 1 - 2 seconds between photos)
After the hike takes you back to the beginning of the trails - go ahead and take a moment to reflect on where we've been and where we couldn't get to -- due to constraints in the slideshow. Then -- finish your Friday and enjoy the weekend...
11/20 Adding more pictures changes the slideshows -- and this is becoming more of a journey rather than a hike...Views aren't limited to just the trail or path but also include bridges or streets -- anything where there is a focal point drawing you out -- perspective -- some technical term in photography that should be known to me but isn't.
12/01/04 Vanishing point...duh.
11/21 I mean -- I know what perspective is...but there should be a better description for that type of tunnel vision. Final note -- since the slideshow only shows the last 100 photos -- or however many it is -- this cyber journey is an effort constrained to this weekend only. I've begun bookmarking notable Flickr photos rather than just saving them to my favorites as they don't have a tunneling effect. It is also a little disappointing that Flickr's organizer can't be used in your Favorites -- so the only way to set photos together in a group is either to bookmark them and then post them to favorites as a group -- or wander through your collected faves, dropping and reposting them so that they wind up together at the front of your queue. This is extremely inefficient -- as if you come across another photo with like characteristics -- and its group is rather large but surrounded on either side by unlike photos -- you must individually drop and repost each - as opposed to having a select all function -- or ctrl click remedies...I guess that's why they call it beta. No matter -- my free pro account is set to run out on December 8th anyhow - so a majority of my pics will begin disappearing after that date. Bullocks.
I know. It's been a few weeks. I really should be over it. The wound still feels fresh. It hasn't had time to heal. I thought briefly the scab had formed and the scars would be less prominent. A loathsome creature screaming that he intended to spend "political capital"; That he was given a "mandate" tore me asunder anew.
"I've read all these," Murray groaned. "But I can't remember a damn verse." He continued to make that noise of frustration, blowing air through taut lips, as I watched him pull one dusty book off after another. I'd had to step out of the room. My eyes had begun brimming with a rising tide and I'd been convulsed with a series of violent sneezes as one by one the coats of dust were blown from the covers and swirled beneath the faux-candle bulbs. Still, the man was too intriguing for me to remove myself completely, so I stood sentry in the hallway as he continued to rifle amongst the towering shelves.
"Ahh," he murmured. "This one here." He'd pulled a rather slender work from its brothers and began to thumb through the yellow pages. "I would spend hours poring over these words. I'd read with a death grip on my pen and swoop it down like a dagger if I thought there were some kind of pattern to be picked out from the chaos. Look," he demanded, stabbing at the pages with his stubby forefinger. "Look here how deep the groove is from the pen." He turned the pages over each other as he approached and I let my gaze meet the tiny rivulet. Indeed thereupon the page were the banks that had once held the fluid waters of imagination. The reverse side revealed a small mound in the streams place. A senseless design unless one were to mirror the pattern and arrive at the words, but he hadn't allowed me the time. He was pacing back towards the shelf, positioning himself under the light.
"How naive. I must've thought I'd stumbled upon the New World." He tilted his head back with the book aloft so that he could peer at it through his glasses. His mouth was slightly open, the edges moving almost in tandem with the spastic motion of his eyes. His finger slid across the indentions in the margins, his thoughts trrying to recapture themselves. "Think in terms of Nature. Damn. In terms of Nature...No wonder I don't remember any of this...I was an idiot! How'd I ever let myself..." He broke off, dropping the book to his side and craning his head back as if on a hinge. His lids clamped down and his jaw grew taut.
"Well, I'm sure if it was put into context." It was an awkward moment and I'd wanted to split the silence. Almost immediately the lids fluttered open. His turning to face me was slow and methodical. I begged him in my head to just get out with it. "No need to be dramatic," I thought. "Isn't that what he's gone and upset himself over anyways?"
I wanted to look at my feet but his focused movements held my gaze. He continued to blink behind those thick glasses, the reflection from the faux-candles aligned almost perfectly with his pupils so that I was meeting the gaze of a man with electric tongues of fire in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly to the side and crinkled his brow. "Have at it," I thought. "Just be done already."
"Pffff."
As I explained here, I've been working on freeing up disk space and mixing down some songs -- so I'm gonna be offering an occasional mp3 here and there...
With that in mind -- you should know that these are still the cruft of the band nights -- those moments when we aren't into the song yet, after the song, or when there is just such a crappy recording that you could throw the entire song into the background and it wouldn't matter. Mix this all up into a big pot and you get the following:
BartyCruft.mp3 (Right Click Save Target As Please and Thank You)
It's been a while since we've had a talk and there are a couple of things I think we've let slip that need our attention. I realize that in the past year you have had to carry a disproportionate amount of the weight around here. I understand if you are none too pleased about that - but I have a plan to rectify the situation. This plan involves cooperation - something not all of us have seen a lot of lately.
I understand you may feel slighted. It's tough to stand firm when things are buckling above you. I know it's a curvy path from where you are to where my head is -- but the only way for us to make this work is to come together.
I'm bringing this up now because of what happened this morning, Don't worry, I plan to talk to the lungs and legs as well, but let's not deflect criticism. When I decided to try this running from nobody hobby that seems to have taken hold - I wanted to start out nice and slow so that we could all get a feel for it and blend seamlessly from one brittle configuration to a smooth cohesive structure. Suffice it to say -- I'm a little disappointed, and a little hurt.
I can understand the lungs not cooperating at first. Throw a little youthful asthma and about a decade of cigarettes into the mix and your lungs would be pretty pissed at you too -- if lower backs had lungs. I can be a little more patient with the lungs because I know we're now working through those obstacles and towards a brighter future.
The legs are more than eager to get started. They are starving for action and practically swung us all out of bed this morning. True, things did seem to slow on the last leg of our journey (no pun intended), but there was a genuine effort there. I joked with them a little about the whole affair, likening it to that scene in Nightmare on Elm Street when that girl (Nancy) tries to escape Freddy only to find her climb slowed by the marshmellowy substance that has replaced the staircase. Yeah, that was awesome.
Oh Espaldita - it is always so easy to get distracted when talking with you. I rarely if ever get to see you - and yet I always know you are there for me. I want to be there for you too, Espaldita. I want our relationship to grow stronger. That is why I am running. That is why we need to run, together. All relationships take work, Espaldita, but together we can overcome these painful first paces and work towards something wonderful. Before we know it everyone will be on board, and we shall stand united once again.
I used to believe that anytime I tried to exercise, the effort was nulled by the lasting pain you would cause me. I want to exorcise that pain. I want us to strengthen the bonds we share. I believe it begins with you and I, Espaldita. If we lead, the Legs will follow. Given time -- the Lungs will begin to see the benefits and join the cause. And don't forget Poland, we'll always have Poland, my darling Espaldita. See you tomorrow? Same time?
Love,
Kevin
When I saw the "big dog" bounding across the backyard Election Day morning I just thought it was somebody's big dog bounding across our backyard.
I said, "Whoa, look at that big dog!" Then I began thinking...that's not a big dog.
"It's a coyote," the former said, sticking out his bearded chin and squinting.
"What's a coyote doing in our backyard," moms responded.
"Maybe it's a sign." the former said blankly.
I called up to Willi, who must've looked out the upstairs window before chugging downstairs, camera in tow. We leaned towards the glass and stared, and the bounding "big dog" stopped and turned to meet our gaze. It licked its teeth, then trotted off into the woods.
Update: This went up a few minutes after this post. Maybe it's another sign?
I'm going to beddy-bye.
I can't believe this.
It's killing me.
I'm devastated.
[The Eleventh Day Comeback? Seems more unlikely than the BoSox coming from behind. Still -- I don't wanna see a premature concession ever again. Remember the Absentees and the Provisionals]
Furthermore -- I know how I feel about Dubya. There is no uniting behind this man. He had his chance.
Damn't Jay. I gave you ten bucks. I wear your shirt all the time. Why?
Why must this be the last issue of the Plug?
I fear that we are losing one of those underappreciated monuments. History will honor you. But again, I must ask...
Why?
