Imagination

Yesterday my kid sister got mad at me saying that I no longer had an imagination. I wish someone had told me of this or else I wouldn't have been thinking all the things I was thinking. I mean, to think that I could have been in deep contemplation of politics and the health care plan! How dare she wait to tell me this so to rob me of such an opportunity?
I must have been wasting my time making up a life story for the man in the car next to us. It was a black charger (yes, I knew what car it was- you may applaud me). At the speed we were both traveling we were able to keep at the same distance so that the driver window of his car fit perfectly with the back seat where I was sitting. Devon (that's his name. . . maybe) was playing with something that could one of three things.
1- A deck of playing cards
2- A pack of tissues
3- A thing of cigarettes
For the stories sake, we'll say that Devon was twirling a pack of cigarettes in his right hand while driving with his left.
You see, Devon has been a smoker for about six years. He started at 14 to fit in with the cool kids and to get some attention from his parents - recently divorced. While partying in high school, things got a little out of hand and he kissed his wrestling scholarship good-bye while he fufilled his sentance for community service. Since then he has been struggling with the demons in his life - the major one being his addiction to smoking. While working a couple of jobs, one being a waiter at Denny's, he saved for his sweet ride. Cigarettes in hand he was left with the ultimate decision, to smoke or not to smoke. (Wow, to think that Hamlet had it easy). I don't know how this story ends because he turned right when we went straight but I like to think that he never did light up. He won this one.
Especially if it was a deck of cards. That wouldn't be very safe in a car.

Leatherheads

Watch this movie.
Why?
Because I love the character played by Renee Zellweger and that's who I want to be when I grow up.

"Leatherheads"

Meet the Muppets

Today was a day of momentous happenings.
I was pulling out of a parking lot and looking both ways to pull out into traffic. Coming up on the sidewalk was a man. I think. There was a lot of hair.

Everywhere. Face. Head. Everywhere.

He was walking down the street and I was there with my car over the sidewalk. Normally I wouldn't have any problem with someone walking around the car but this muppet character was a little different. Mr. Much-Hair-In-The-Face stopped at the tail light on the right side of the car and stopped. Thanks to the safety features on most automobiles I was able to keep an eye on this character. I looked just in time to see that he was keeping an eye on me.

. . .

Get checked out by monster from the Muppets? Take that Jim Henson.

And She Was

Don't take this the wrong way but I think often think about my life in past tense. I realize that this may seem morbid but it sure does pass the time. This is how I hope my eulogy to read.

Cyndi The Hutch

Always inquisitive
Rarely Frantic
Quick to Help
Slow to Judge
Aware of the Little Things
Fearless of the Big Picture
and
Humanitarian

P.S. I was reading about some people and they always added humanitarian to it. So no matter what happens I'm going to be remembered as a humanitarian - dang it.

And the timer goes off. . .

I really wanted to start this post with some sort of profound quote or thought. Its like when you're writing a speech for some class and they tell you to start big, grab your audience. Here I go. . .
"Sometimes people bug me."
- Cyndi Hutch

I realize that using my own quote is a bit self-centered and everything but it is my blog but whatever. There is this timer somewhere where soul meets body that tells me just how much I can take. How fast the wind can blow until I fall, how fast the ground can shake until my knees buckle, or how much I can remember until I reach maximum occupancy. There are particular things that this timer clangs and gongs and screams at no matter what. Pet peeves or something that I hope to someday overcome but in the meantime I am going to complain.
1- Hypocrites
I hate it when people are hypocritical, it ruins my whole day and my perspective of them. The only thing I hate more then hypocrites that cross my path is when I am hypocritical. I beat myself up over it because there is nothing worse then hurting someone with something you know first hand hurts.
2- Ignorance
I don't know a whole lot. In fact, I don't really truly know anything but playing it smart when you really are dumb is what I consider ignorant. Sooner or later you are going to start believing yourself and then no one else is going to want to explain it once again.
3- Texting
Now, I realize that this is a sort of touchy subject and I would promise to tip-toe around it lightly but I couldn't keep that promise so. . . . . Texting is so rude. I do not like competing with someone who knows where for the attention of the person sitting right in front of me. You think that I would win but for some reason I don't. I'm not a very good looser. It is also dangerous. If you are driving with me please do not text and drive, that is an accident waiting to happen and if it never comes do us all a favor and text dumb on your thumbs. Now, I do not text and drive but at times I will text when I am with other people. I apologize for this. I understand that texting thrill but I try very hard to not text in excess.

Now, please please please do not take offense unless offense was intended.

Come Together

Michael Jackson did a cover of "Come Together." I know, mind blown.
Here's somethings I learned about this song. It was originally written by John Lennon and performed by the Beatles with Ringo Starr on guitar and some of the usuals playing their usual instruments. They performed this song at Madison Square Gardens in the 70s.
Aerosmith receives the award for most successful cover of this song but I don't know, Michael Jackson rocks at life so. . . . . .
He even owned the credits to the song and everything.

Someday, when I am way rich or in total denial of my financial failings and running up credit for my children to loose sleep over, I'm going to by the rights to songs.

Pigeons, Twigs, and Honking Horns

Once upon a time I was being awesome at a stoplight. By awesome I mean I was full on rockstar-ing it up to Lady Gaga. I've seen some music videos, my moves were like cover band worthy.
Then, out of no where, and by no where I mean the sky, I saw this pigeon flying funky. While I don't believe pigeons to be the most elegant of God's creations, they aren't like me and have trouble flying in a straight line. (Yes, I just implied that I can fly).
In the beak of the bird was a twig, complete with leaf. My guess is that the leaf culminated with the air jet system and probably failed communication with the air control tower because they brought their kids to work were all working against Demetri. (That's what I named the bird). (Just barely).
I was laughing out loud to myself at this funny picture as I watched Demetri fly under the highway entrance bridge thing. That made me think of a bird living under the freeway and was about to imagine the story of the three billy goats with the troll under the bridge only this version had a mutated pigeon like resembled godzilla and semi-trucks when somebody honked.
The light was green.
Oops.

Something Seems a Little Off Center

I recently read a very thought provoking book, Outliers. I have heard about good things about the author and the book so I caved and read it. It is all about the exceptions. The people who are on the far right or left of the normal curve of distribution. There is nothing like reading a book that will tell you over and over again that so and so is super smart and everything was going for them. Just take my self-confidence, kick it in the back, and when I'm down, pepper spray me. That'll do the trick.
That is not the thought provoking part. Like any good story you have to muscle through the thicket of thorns and feel your way into the dark a step or two to step out into the light.
Opportunities.
Bill Gates isn't Bill Gates because he just is. He's the name in our culture, the symbol, because of the opportunities he had. It is the same with professional hockey players in Canada, Jewish immigrants in the clothing industry, and even the Beatles.
What are we doing to spread opportunities, create that once in a life time chance?
What does it take us to give, what does it take us to sacrifice?
The most important part of this is taking the opportunities. It is very possible that chance or even if you will fate is knocking at your door, are you too lazy to get out of bed to answer it?
There is an even greater problem that needs to be addressed, it is a little off center.
Why are there Outliers? Because they had natural ability and opportunity.
Why?
Why them?
Because our society is far too set on creating a superstar, not a galaxy.

Teeth, Floss, and Other Practical Things

I love to brush my teeth. Really. Love it. There is something that gets my insides all a flutter when I carefully squeeze that winter mint with microburst power for fresher breath longer out onto my blue toothbrush and give it a quick kiss of bathroom sink water. Its more like a full immersion but I will leave that analogy for you to create.
How someone brushes their teeth says something. Its a statement. I know that I hate to brush in front of people. It makes me a little bit self-conscious in the way that people look away really fast when they were staring at a stoplight and you turned and caught them.
You have the counters. These are the people that count the strokes as if to time, giving each and every tooth their proper time.
You have the hit and run people. Like a demo of Grand Theft Auto they are in and out before the cops can catch them. There is hardly time for the brush to foam and hardly a reason to rinse.
You have the rabies wannabes. These are the people that are so focused on their teeth they don't realize that their face is minty fresh.
Flossing. I used to hate it. I mean really hate it. Flossing was how I knew their was still evil in the world. It didn't matter if there was some new flavor, what good will that do between my teeth? Seriously. But, I have to admit, I had a change of heart. It came with out a clatter, whistles and bells, a lot like the feeling of Christmas. It came all the same. Flossing is like that dog with a limp who has a sticker in his paw. There is such a relief to see him no longer limping. Now, to be clear, I am not saying that my mouth is like a dog paw. That would be ridiculous. What I am saying is that there is nothing like getting that popcorn kernel out from between those molars.
As far as other practical things are concerned, I don't have much to say. If you want practical, check out some infomercials. That's all they advertise. Want practical? Get a snuggie.