Tuesday, October 16, 2018

The Daily {W}rite October 2018 wk o3

I said goodbye last night to one of my oldest Facebook friends. No, she didn't die . . . well, in a metaphorical way . . . she did pass away. She was always posting the most vile political fake news on Facebook. Totally dishonest and hurtful to a fault. I put up for it because I really liked her, she's a poet and a publisher of novels and poetry in New Mexico. And I had some outlandish belief that I could change her outrageous political opinion. Yeah, that didn't work. Last night she posted this horrible story about how Democratic men where supporting abortion so they could gain control over women and ultimately destroy them. It was too much for me. I deleted her from friends list, and blocked her from ever contacting me again.

WEDnesday, October 17, 2o18
Remember how disappointed I was last week when David and I went to the Halloween stores in town and saw the pickings were, well, skimpy to say the least? Not much to write home about in either store as far as masks and Halloween accessories go. What masks there were, were over priced nothing other $50.00 that I saw. Really broke my little Halloween heart.

Well, today went for a healthy walk, at the sooner Fashion Mall because it was still a tad bit cold to go out to the Sutton Wilderness park. So, we were walking through Penny's into the main part of the mall. We started to notice that there were a lot of empty store fronts, the big bay windows were covered up with stenciled paper saying SOONER FASHION MALL in big black letters. Another disappointment. I love Sooner Fashion Mall and just hat the idea that it may go out of business just like the Sears store, which is expected to shut their doors in Norman-town before the end of the year.

Anyway, I was walking by this long row of paper covered shop windows where once there was some kind of Hepster clothing store . . . I turn the corner and my eyes got REAL big and my mouth opened like a enamel grand canyon! Holy Cow! There was this GIANT Michael Myers animatronic statue stabbing the air with his gigantic French knife in the rhythm of the tune to Halloween  lairing out that wonderful sound! It was a Halloween store! A Halloween store! A huge store filled with wonderful bloody and scary Halloween supplies. AND I got this crazy cheap mask for my Halloween costume this year! I cried, I think. I was so  . . . happy.

THURsday, October 18,2o18
Well, if my friend Brendan is over being sick, I'll be going to see the new Halloween movie tonight around 10pm. I am excited . . . and hoping with all my bloody heart that it won't be a disappointing movie. Yeah, I always worry when a sequel comes out or a remake is released. Lot's of people frown on any sequels, any remake of their cherished I-saw-it-when-I-was-just-a-kid movie. Nothing can ever be better or even as good as the original. And often enough they are right in that o[pinion. There's only a handful of remakes and sequels that even close to be "almost" as good as the original movie. 

Tuesday, October 9, 2018

The Daily {W}rite October 2018 wk o2

It 's too easy to lose myself. And even easier to not realize that I am lost, that I am moving, talking, acting in a direction I never wished to go. No, I DID once want to act in the manner that I have now decided works against my best interests. But the yelling, the screaming at people, the rage, the pounding the air with my fists . . . I'm really too old for that anymore. But you know what? I don't want to lie down at the feet of everybody like I'm a whipped dog, a dead dog.

WEDnesday, October 1o, 2o18
And worse than the crash of angry waves  against the memory shore inside my fragile skull, worse than that the day after when all my systems, muscles, consciousness, imagination, my eyes want to close, big sign hanging he lids: Closed Until Further Notice. Tired, drained of energy, the bulb in my head dimming like in one of those old movies when they executed prisoners in an electric chair.

FRIday, October 12, 2o18
I keep meaning to write more each day, but my "life" keeps getting in my way. Went out to dinner with David and his family, well, his daughter, her husband and their baby (who is over 1 year old!). Made plans with Brendan (the son-in-law) to go see the New Halloween movie next Thursday night.

A couple of days ago I get a phone call just as I was getting out of sleepy mode. ME: Hello? DAVID: you up? ME: Just getting there. DAVID: I'm coming up! Well, hell! NO one comes into my apartment! But he was on his way up, I could hear him stomping up the stairs! Yes, an exclamation point (!) at the end of the last sentence because David NEVER comes up the stairs! Anyway, he drags in this long, thin box! "Open it." And I do and inside . . . a print of the original Dogs Playing Poker.

3:01 pm
I'm listening to Bubble Trance music. Okay, I don't know what that is . . . it's some kind of  electronic music. I think it's suppose to be the Hipster version of psychedelic music. It sounds like I'm putting the music down . . . and yet I'm listening to it as I type the entry into the computer. Oh! Read an article David sent me on the Quantum computer? Don't know what that is? Don't feel like you're on a dessert island . . . yeah, I know it says dessert island and not desert island . . . 'cause I read the article and STILL don't understand it. Anyway, it reminded my of a song I wrote a while ago:


The theory of quantum physics states that at any given point in
time and space there are about a billion possible possibilities.
But I just shake my head and sigh and wonder why
not one of them at any rate equates to you = loving me.
It goes on to say all things are connected then why do I
feel so neglected on a subatomic level every time I see you
walking hand and hand with the new man of your perfect
dream? It seems to be our probabilities are too infinite for
us to find just one.  What's going on, what's going on with
you and me? The other night you called me on the phone,
asked, "Are you alone?" and I said, "Yes." and you
said, "Hold on, I'll be right there." So, I waited and waited
and waited... and I wait and wait and wait and wait and wait
and wait 'til the universe finally collapsed and I rolled
over and fell asleep. Sir Isaac Newton was surely shootin'
from the hip with his irrefutable laws of gravity for he
did not take into consideration when it comes to personal
relations sometimes things blow-up... and never ever come
down. And it seems to be that responsibility is a word you
always choose to ignore. What's going on, what's going on
with you and me? And it seems to be that your cruelty is too
much for me to handle so I'll stop...
Woodie o4-23-04 (rewrites 1o-12-18)

SUNday, October 14, 2o18
Well, another week has hot-rodded itself and all of us into the middle of the month. One more week and we will be well on our way to . . . HALLOWEEN! We went out, David and me, to the BIG Halloween store that is ONLY open on Halloween and . . . it was less than disappointing. What use to be a warehouse full of animatronic monsters, a very huge supplies of masks (some cheap one some expensive ones), a wonderful lot of costumes for older Halloweeners  as well as just nifty PG13 for the younger kids . . . well, all that is pretty much gone. Yes, plenty of masks but so out of everybody's wallet range. The animatronics we okay, but there weren't as many as year's past. It was really . . . unexciting.

Today, we went to a movie. Hadn't been to one in a while and David doesn't really LIKE to go to the movies much. But this time I gave him choices and he picked one. It was good too. 
Bad Times at the El Royale turned out be a bit of a sleeper movie . . . but in truth it doesn't disappoint as a movie. Lots of fun, but better like lots of dialogue and lots of character development and . . . yeah, dialogue. :) 

There's a few things I don't talk about on this blog because some of my life mingles with very personal things in my friends lives. I'm careful about talking too much about them online. But I do have friends . . . not a lot but enough to say "I have friends." 

I'm going to end here and ship this week off to Facebook. Read if you have the time or personal inclination to do so. And yeah, it's weird to have this statement at the end of an entry. {smiles}

Monday, October 1, 2018

The Daily {W}rite October 2018 wk o1

Yes! The first day of October . . . or should I say the first day of the first week of  . . . HALLOWEEN! Because I along with a lot of other Hallo-Weeners start celebrating our beloved holiday on the very first day of October! Maybe not so much as a kid. I always thought that the parents were more begrudgingly enthusiastic  than flat out wonder for the holiday, and they tolerated it more than they celebrated it . . . AND they preferred to keep the Whoop-Dee-Doo down to just one night, if you don't mind.  And we kids acquiesced  to their demands of one day of Halloween . . . But now? NOW we are the grown-ups, we where the proverbial pants of authority  and WE declare the WHOLE of October to be HALLOWEEN! {BIG smile}

TUEsday, October o2, 2o18
"Sometimes, while cleaning my mouth, it accidently goes off. Apologies." Yeah, that happens to me a lot. The mouth goes on automatic pilot and says what it wants to say and . . . I get into a lot of trouble. Example? Someone on Facebook posted a Facebook joke that said something about Facebook denying certain people access to Facebook if they are considered ugly. And I commented with . . .

There's an old Abbott and Costello routine:
Lou: my mother always told me not to marry a beautiful girl because she'll always run away.
Bud: But wouldn't an ugly girl run away?
Lou: Yeah, but who'd care?

So, I gotta a lot of flak for that! Lots of angry responses saying basically what I said was "antiwomen" and inappropriate considering the things that are going on right now in politics. I didn't try to defend myself because the comments were right on. BUT I will say I didn't write that comment in support of the antiwomen sentiment we find within our American consciousness, but as an example of it. But I didn't explain myself because . . . I should have explained myself WHEN I originally posted the comment.

Oh, boy! Okay, left the apartment around 2pm. Was just going to go up to the little store on 12th St. & Lindsey St.  . . . but decided I wanted Panda Garden for lunch . . . and that would take me closer to Walmart, which has movies . . . which I might want to buy a movie . . . Anyway, the bicycle ride to the PG was uneventful. Good ride. A slow ride but a good ride. My legs did well, my lungs? Not a huff or a puff. After the PG, I rode over to Walmart . . . passed the new Chicken-fil-A that the workers are just starting to build . . . good . . . a new store to protest! So, got fruits and veggies, a piece of salmon (cheap) and a couple of small steaks . . . AND gum. No, not nicotine gum . . . sugarless and nicotine free . . . gum. AND the ride home was . . . perilous. Man, a backpack full of groceries and a large thermos of water . . . too much for my neck, back and arms. And my lungs started to give out and the heat . . . it was bad. BUT . . . I did it! I good size trip. I'm getting back into some kind of shape. Old Man shape . . . but shape. 

WEDnesday, October o3, 2o18
A bit groggy today. Did get out on the bike just a little . . . took the camera with me. Was planning to go up on Valore's roof, have lunch take some shots from three stories up . . . but they were closed. So, went to Kong's Tavern instead. Haven't been in that space since it was Font's back in the 70s/80s. Not bad burgers and fries. Kong's may well be the biggest single floor bar in town.

My neighbor is extremely cute and of course way too young for me. She bought some shoes from Journey's and was a bit frantic when I came home from riding the bike. "Could you do me a BIG favor?" Her voice was so sweet. "Of course!" "We'll, I gotta go to work and they are shipping my shoes sometime today because they deliver until 8pm . . . " she seemed to be close to tears. "Would you like me to keep an eye out for your package and make sure it gets to your door?" "Would you?! Oh, I have to give you something for doing that . . . How about a beer?" I had to laugh. She was being so kidlike. 

SUNday, October o7, 2o18

Well, as you see I didn't write as much as I promised (again!) but I got a great excuse.  Went on Thursday, I think it was, and got the super-duper flu shot for old people and the "bigger and  better" pneumonia hot and . . . was sick as hell for two days! Chills, fever! My right arm where they put both shots in? Man, the bicep ached like I got in a flinching contest with Muhammad Ali. My whole body ached ALL night so I didn't sleep at all . . . lost my appetite. It was awful. So, I'm cutting this entry down and going back to bed. ({smiles}

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

The Daily {W}rite September 2018 wk o4

Missed the third week of this blog month. Sigh. Tonight I am friendless. May well be friendless for a few years . . . maybe. I do like people. It's not that. It's mostly that there are moments when they don't seem to like me. I make them mad. Usually I don't know what it is I'm doing that makes them mad. I only find out that I'm doing something "wrong" when they're already angry with me. A friend of David's let me know that she had unfriended me on Facebook. Being totally honest I didn't even notice. But she animate about telling me all about my Facebook sin: You put my name on my picture and put it on Facebook. I don't want people seeing how old I am. Well, okay, I guess. I mean she could have just told me NOT to take her picture? And her "husband" is some kind of great poet from some country, and one night out of the blue he starts telling that Bob Dylan is a terrible song writer because he's not a "revolutionary!" Sigh. I don't know why people feel so damn full of themselves that they think that saying this bullshit to me is really an okay thing to do. Maybe it should be. Maybe I shouldn't care what people say about me to me and not behind my back . . . but in front of my back.

So, I also got hooked up on this Facebook/poetry site. And it was pretty good for awhile but the guy running it was a bit pretentious and really, really in love with his own work and rather dismissive of mine. I got to the point where I was spending a lot of time reading and critiquing other poets' work and none were commenting on my poems. So, I quite it. Left a little disgruntled note on the poem no one thought worthy of their masterful critiquing skills: Hmm. Not ONE single comment on my poem? Hmm. And then I just "un-joined" the group and that was that. Here's the poem that they dissed.

Love Massacre 
I beg her shadow to get off the bed, “Come,
the couch is large enough for both of us.”
This only makes her frown. For couches,
of course, where made for sitting on,
watching TV, snuggling a bit, perhaps,
but sleeping? No never. Our dreams 
would get stuck between the cushions
and we'd never find them buried in that nether land
amongst the ghostly quarters, dimes and pennies,
the stale popcorn SHE flings into the air
each time we watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. 
We’ve seen that movie a gazillion times.  
SHE always jumps when ol’ Leatherface’s 
chainsaw roars to life. And always SHE turns 
her head and drills her perfect, little nose into my neck— 
a trick SHE picked up from the dog.
Stuck its wet snout deep inside a half-eaten
bag of munchies I left unattended on said couch
one time . . . potato chip corpses all over the place.
Good company, I suppose, for all the other nasties 
sleeping the sleep of misplaced garbage death. 
Ol’ Leatherface’s chainsaw screams, 
the sexy blond actress he chases screams, 
SHE screams and dog harmonizes with her
in a loud, mournful howl. I’m giggling 
‘cause her pile-driving nose tickles. I’m 
laughing out loud ‘cause I can’t believe
How much I love this big wussy of a woman.
Woodie o9-08-13

It's been raining constantly since around midnight, I think. Now, in the soothing warmth of the afternoon the rain appears to be slacking off a bit. Still steady, but not as frantic of a rain as it had been. I'm not all that into the rain today. Yes, it is beautiful and I'm pretty sure that the Duck Pond really needs something wet to revive its muddy shores, but I have things to do and the rain gets in the way of me getting anything accomplished that requires me going outside. 

Boy, the writing program inside my head is working overtime. I've written so much today on this blog. It could well be that my quitting nicotine has given me a new energy and ability to focus. You know I've been addicted to nicotine since 12 years old! 58 years ago I started smoking, and I got hooked on nicotine ,and three days ago  . . . I quit. Yep. Two nights my body was tingling, I got way light-headed and a passed out a couple of times . . . well, I feel asleep a lot during the first two days . . . but now? I still feel a bit of a tingle in the arms, and now and then I still get up to get a tab of nicotine gum. But overall, I think I'm done with nicotine. I know I'll never go back to it or smoking, never again.

FRIday, September 28, 2o18
Me and David seem to be back in friendship mode. Don't need to go into particulars. It's enough to just say . . . we're friends again.  {smiles} Anyway, I'm getting out on the bicycle a bit. Getting the exercise I need to basically keep my heart pumping, my muscles ready to receive the energy my heart generates. I found a new Facebook poetry page and decided to try it out. The last one I was on? I don't know. I wasn't feeling extremely comfortable on there. I don't know. One of the hosts seemed to be a bit fanatical, a bit the tyrant about poetry and how to write it, and the right way to write was, of course, the way the despot host wrote poetry. Plus, I was commenting on at least three poems (from other poets) for every single poem I posted. And mostly? No one was commenting on my poems. I felt a bit neglected. 

SUNday, September 30, 2o18
Well, the last day in September which means I start my Halloween count down TODAY! If you know me at all, you know I'm a Halloween freak! Yes, it's my second favorite, annual celebration. What is my first favorite? Why my birthday, of course. And that's why I've been advocating changing my birthday to October 31st so I could celebrate both my birthday AND Halloween on the same day!

I want write a bit more before I put this week, this month's blog to bed and let my readers (imaginary or real) "enjoy" my latest rants and poems and  . . . other things. {smile} Maybe a poem will finish this month off nicely. P.S. if the art/poetry is too small to read, click on the pic. 

Sunday, September 9, 2018

The Daily {W}rite September 2018 wk o2

Yes, David and I made arrangements while watching the OU vs UCLA game to go today (Sunday) and see The Nun. I've been pretty excited about seeing based solely on the trailers I've seen and the art work on the left there of the Nun. P.S. the caption I added. And yes, after all our planning and everything I had forgotten the wake up time, which has always been my job, call David and wake him up an hour (or so) before the movie starts. Hence, the meme sent to David via IM. 12:30pm  rolls around and I'm calling David. I didn't get an answer just his message collector,
"Hi, these is David. Please leave a message. Peace and love." Peace and Love" always sounded to me like robot David was saying, "Peas and Carrots." I hang up, call again. The time someone picks up. Hello?" I knew then we weren't gonna make to the movies. " Give me one more hour?" the ghost voice said. And at 1:30pm I call and, "I don't think I can make it man. To deep in a dream to wake up." I knew it was coming. Was I disappointed? YES! and no. Look at our age we get sick a lot, if not sick just too lethargic to get out of bed. I've done it to him lots of times. So, no worries. The movie will be around for a while. So, I set myself up for staying and watching--about 5pm, "Hey!," said a spunky David, "you wanna go see that movie at 7pm?" And we did. And it was not all that good. {no smile}

TUEsday, September 11, 2o18
Yesterday, we had to drive David's daughter to a job interview in OKC. She was nervous. The job is very important to her and she was afraid she might mess it up. I didn't tell her the advice I got from other actors when I auditioned for the first time in front of the faculty at OU Drama. "Just picture the professors naked." Naw, that wouldn't make me  less nervous in front of a group of people that has a say in whether you get a job or not.

Went with David to his daughter's work place, a daycare center to read to some very little kids. I really didn't know we were going to read to a group, I thought we were going to read to David's granddaughter only. Kids are great, really. But when you look like David and I? We walked into the room and all the kids looked at us . . . and started crying! Well, that's bummer. But their "handlers" cooled them down a bit, and they sat on the big rug in the middle of the class room and David started to read and . . . they calmed down and paid attention to David reading one of the kids book the teachers offered us. David's pretty good with kids. And then it was my turn and that's when it started to get out of hand. Not all at once but little by little the kids started to lose their interest in me reading . . . hell, I don't even know what I was reading. Oh, yeah something about the noises animals make. And this one little guy couldn't make any sound but that of a tiger! Yeah, hecklers start early in life. And soon the kids just started to ignore me, some wondered off to play with a toy, a shoe. Some just seemed to close their eyes and fall asleep. Man, it was rough house.
WEDnesday, September 12, 2018
I begin each morning with . . . the opening of my eyes . . . BLINK . . . BLINK . . . BLINK . . . it takes a bit of time for my consciousness to reboot from my brain's sleep mode. But eventually . . . it does. Put the coffee up. I always like a fresh pot in the morning-- put the coffee up? Oh, yeah. When I was in high school and living in La Puente, CA, I made friends with a kid from New York who lived around the corner of my suburban home . . . His dad was an upholsterer working out of his garage reupholstering furniture for all in the neighborhood. I gotta part time job (Saturdays and Sundays)  with him "stripping" the old upholstery off the chairs and couches. It paid a little. I did get breakfast every morning from his wife who had decided I was worth "adopting" as one of her "extra" sons. She adopted a lot of us from the neighborhood. But I was the only one that got breakfast. We were so close I didn't have to knock on the door to enter the house. I'd open the door and before I could say hello, I'd hear her birdlike voice, "That you Woodie?" "Yeah." "Good. Well, I'll put the coffee up." And THAT is where I got that saying put the coffee up, which is New York speak for I'll make some coffee.

THURsday, September 13, 2o18
Do you ever lose track of time? I don't mean an hour or so, or when you're in an engaging conversation with another person (not yourself) and you glance at the clock on coffee house wall and see it's . . . "Oh, my! 4pm already? I got to go." No, I mean those moments when you realize you don't know the date, what day of the week it is . . . hell, for a moment you can't remember what the year is! I used to worry about that a lot. I am getting older and the possibility that I might in the months to come wind-up with some kind of dementia, or the big evil, Alzheimer's, that monster of the brain that eats away at whatever it is that makes me human . . . that's the motherfucking bogyman of old age. Every night when I say my prayers (yes, I pray), I exit my God conversation with, "Please, God. Don't give me Alzheimer's  in my sleep.

FRIday, September 14, 2o18
Yes, I'm cheating a bit. This was not written on the 14th but on the 15th. Busy, painful, exhausting weekend. Well, I 'll tell you more about next week! Bye-bye, Spider-Guy!

Monday, September 3, 2018

The Daily {W}rite September 2018 wk o1

Yes, it is rainy. A gentle rain, a shear very fine rain, a silky soft wind carrying the drops to window where they land on the windowsill . . . like angels.  It's a lovely rain that has stroked the sun into a mellow enough mood that it barely shines. The third day of September and it all ready nudging us towards a hardly autumn.
On the Way to see Searching
Scene: David driving west on Robinson. Woodie in the shotgun watching the clouds gathering around the western sky.

David: What?
Woodie: (turning his head toward David) What.
David: Huh?
Woodie: What?
David: Never mind.

The problem with two old people out on their own without a young chaperone to watch over them?
1. Neither one can hear worth a shit. AND their always blaming each other for not TALKING UP! "I AIN'T HARD OF HEARING! YOU JUST AIN'T TALKING LOUD ENOUGH!" "WHAT?!'
2. Neither one can remember what they were saying after they just said it.
3. Freeform thinking:

Woodie: If you make a left here . . . you remember the girl I was dating back in '71?
David: I didn't know you in '71.
Woodie: WE didn't know each other?
David: Yes, we didn't meet until '75.
Woodie: Oh, okay. (pause) But did you know her?
David: KNOW WHO?
Woodie: THE . . . GIRL . . . I . . . WAS . . . DA . . . TING!

4. Old people really get pissed off at each other for being old. And course, "I'm not old; you're old!"

TUESday, September o4, 2o18
It's still raining! And I woke up late! AND I have to mail a bill off, but . . . It's still raining, but . . . I got a stamp, the mailman hasn't come by yet, so I stamp the bill envelope, and (with the bill inside it, of course.) put it on the metal sling that holds out going mail . . . and I hope he picks it up because . . . it's still raining.

I sit here in front of the computer trying to come up with something to say that won't be boring or too revealing . . . but I don't want to lie . . . but somethings are best left in the closet and not taken out in public. I look out the window and yes . . . still raining. Wait, I don't want go there again. {smiles} I may cut this entry a little short. I gotta sudden desire to write a poem Yeah, maybe I'll do that. Later, amigos!

WEDnesday, September o5, 2o18
BIG surprise today! David called at 12:00pm and asked if I wanted him to drive me to wash my clothes. "You haven't washed clothes in 2 years, " he said. I countered with, "Oh, it hasn't been that long!" To be honest, it's probably closer to a year . . . or so. Anyway, I declined but said I'd let him drive me to the laundromat  . . . tomorrow. But today, I needed to go to Walmart for nicotine gum and a few things. This was cool with David because he needed rice and yogurt. "I've been living on rice and yogurt for a few months now." David said this with the deep sincerity of a murderer confessing to the crime, and I responded with a shocked look like I was reading about it from the newspaper. Headline: David Slemmons Eats Nothing But Rice And Yogurt!

Got to Walmart without much trouble even though it was raining. Got there and I went off to get nicotine gum and . . . there was no nicotine gum! WHAT? Well, there was gum but not the generic brand I use. So, what to do? I was in a panic! How the hell am I expected to get through the rest of my life without nicotine gum! But we found out that they had moved my brand of NG to the checkout lane that sells tobacco products.

Saturday, August 25, 2018

The Daily {W}rite August 2018 wk o4

I'm taking an hour or more to just shut down the TV, headphone into my Spotify list (playing the Baby Driver soundtrack right . . . ). You know? I just turned off Baby Driver. No distractions as I write this entry. Nothing but the ambient sounds from the outside, the beelike sputter of a small motorcycle speeding by, the hissing sound of car tires on hot asphalt . . . that sound, that constant sound that the Physical Management building makes . . . the gurgle of a Cessna flying towards the Norman-town airport.  Those little things, noises inside my apartment: Some one just slammed a door shut. She (or he) is stomping down the stairs . . . and then there's that buzzing sound inside my ears, inside my head. Saw a doctor about it . . . basically? Yeah, nothing to be done about it. It's a part of me in my "old age." Better to just get use to it, welcome it like the other "natural" sounds my body makes . . . breathing, my heart beating. 

Easy to realize that you're not living in the moment, the real moments that pass so fast you can't tell where one moment begins or ends. I've probably gone through at least a billion moments since I started this portion of today's blog entry. Okay, I may be exaggerating. It's probably on been a few moments not a billion. It's hard to tell. For the Greeks, a moment was 2.5 seconds in duration.  As an actor I measure a moment by stage time. "playing the moment" is a term we throw around in the thespian culture. So, two actors on stage engage in a scripted conversation, each actor having an objective that is related in some way or other to the response of the other actor. A moment ends whenever the objective is won, or lost or put on hold by one of the two characters. But for some acting coaches even that is too long a time. For others, a moment is one response from whichever actor is speaking at the time:
Actor 1 says a line, 
end of moment
Actor 2 takes in what Actor 1 said
and then responds with his/her line, 
end of moment
Confusing? Probably. But it is a very useful equation for an actor . . . but for  real human beings in real life? Well, before we can answer that question we have to define "real life", and to tell you the truth, right now, I'm not willing to waste the moments it would take to define "real life. " So, why don't we define a moment as whatever length of time it takes to think a moment. {smiles}


John McCain died today. He went off the cancer treatments last night and died today. I almost voted for him for POTUS. Almost. He was the strongest advocate for veteran's rights. Often enough, when his party was on the wrong track, John McCain was the only Republican to stand against them. His own part. He was labeled a maverick and there were times when he was exactly that.  Trump Hated him. Today "That Guy in the White House" tweeted a few mousy words about McCain's death . . . but he didn't mean I thing he said. 

Monday, August 27, 2o18
I love a parade! We all do, don't we? The 4th of July parade with its marching veterans, the beautiful prom queens with dazzling  bright white smiles, and then there's the politicians . . . they too in shinny new convertibles or replicas of old cars from the '30s/'40s . . . those go old days when white was right and straight was great! And yesterday, in Norman town, we had a parade! The Norman PRIDE Parade . . . and yes, it was just like any parade in any city or town across the nation. And there were vets marching, and beautiful girls waving, and politicians . . . and the LGBTQ community. In fact it was a parade that focused on theLGBTQ community, the celebration there of . . . but not solely that. It was a celebration of diversity within the American culture. A celebration of our humanity, love for each other, of love for the sake of love without borders, mental or physical borders that have always kept America ununified. Yes, what a beautiful day it was. And I hope it continues.  {BIG smile}

TUEsday, August 28, 2o18
Already everyone on Facebook is anticipating Halloween! If you know me, you know that yes, it is MY favorite holiday. Even though we are more than a month away from Halloween, I thought I'd share a Halloween poem I wrote a few years back.

I love Halloween!

The sun is finally going down
the moon dressed in her starry gown
the season’s here for children’s glee
tonight’s the night of Halloween.

Monsters dark and nasty ghouls
will fill the haunted night with boos
and candy apples tart and sweet
will fill our bags on Halloween.

I’ll dress myself as Spider-Man
then door to door and hand in hand
with little sister Sara Lee
I’ll beg for candy on Halloween.

I hope I do not see a ghost
I think they frighten me the most
the pumpkin’s carved he looks so mean
Sometimes it’s scary on Halloween.

Mother quick no time to waste
the witches’ brewed us treats to taste
my friends are dancing down the street
MOM, Hurry up! Come on!
It’s Halloween!
Woodie 9-26-09 (rewrites 1o-25-13)

WEDNesday, August 29, 2o18
Went out to vote yesterday. Never much of a voter as young . . . er man. Did vote for Jesse Jackson in the primaries once when I was living in Hollywood. When got back to Norman-town in the very late 80s, when election year came around I voted for Clinton for POTUS. Other than that, I never voted. But when got older, in my sixties, I started to take more interest in politics. His second time around I voted for Obama. Been pretty active since then, I mean, I vote now on a regular basis, local and national elections. 

The last few days I've felt a bit lethargic. Hard time keeping my energy up. Been depressed, also. I don't know if my not feeling well is triggering my depression or my depression is triggering my tiredness. Either way, I've been fighting off my usual depression. Well, fighting off isn't quite right. Trying muscle my depression out of myself doesn't quite work. I mean, Lady Macbeth tried to cure her depression and guilt over the murder of King Duncan . . . that didn't work out too well for her. There's no "out, out, damn spot!" cure when it comes to depression.

But I don't want to go on some kind of happy drug. MY depression may well be a psychological/physical response to my subconscious, my dream state (which is made up of a bunch of memories that still haunt me) that to often I find myself drowning in. See, that's the problem, I think. I keep trying to make myself well by trying to get rid of all that emotional, that baggage my thoughts have bought into. It can't be done. You can't just say "GO AWAY, BAD, BAD THOUGHTS!" It doesn't work. But what might work is accepting my "craziness" as a part of me, a wonderful part of me, know it's there and use it to keep me sane. Yeah, I see all the psych majors I nodding knowingly, "Yeah, that'll work. You just do that." We I hate squat on their PhDs, but I think I'm in a good place with changing myself without changing the essence of that which I call my . . .  self. 

THURsday, August 3o, 2o18
I've been sick all last night and into the early morning. So uncomfortable in my skin I couldn't sleep more than an hour. That's tight. One hour of sleep and there I am up and about. My mind was sharp, like it got 8 hrs. sleep . . . but my body. Man, so worn out, tread bare, if you could get a ticket for walking around the apartment while intoxicated, I'd have been pulled over before I could make it to the bathroom to puke up a dream I was having in that tiny hour of sleep I had awaken from. No, I really wasn't drunk. But my equilibrium was all messed up. I kept bouncing into walls, my bike, door jams . . . it was like I was some kind of flesh covered pinball. And dizzy. Sitting in front of the computer, my eyes blurring and my head hosted a school of piranha that ate through my brain matter all the way to the shores of my fragile skull. I was a mess.  

Just about the end of the month which means we are just that much closer to Halloween . . . On Saturday Norman-town has its first game (football) of the season. Man, it seems to early for that. I like to get out on game day and shoot the crowd. Lots of people on game day and my camera loves it. I may post a few on here during the year. I love game days. Here's a sample from last year.

FRIday, August 31, 2o18
I like months that end with 31 days. It just feels right. 31 days. Yes, I know we say as a general rule that a month is 30 days long . . . nice round number, heavy, well-fed number. But the mind says, NO! 31 is the perfect number. The brain is strange. It will think whatever it wishes to think without reasoning gumming up the works. See you next month. {smiles}