From the files of: Life

I sorted through all two of my draft blog archives, and found this today. I wrote it in September of 2005, and realized I don't hate it. So I'm putting it up now as a bonus blog. A two-fer, if you will. It is quite philisophical, but not hard to grasp if you're into that kind of thing.

We’re all just trying to get through life. No matter who we are. No matter our profession, our ethnicity, our gender, our lifestyle, our age. It’s the common denominator among people. Not necessarily ‘survival’, because there are those who take their own lives, who aren’t trying to ‘survive’, but they ARE trying to get through life the best way they know how. If it’s by ending it, well that is their means. But we are all just trying to make it. To get by. Whether we excel or fail, frighten or amaze those around us – we are, each of us, just doing our thing. I suppose this may not be an amazing thought, or anything that someone else has not already thought of. It is a thought that could be expanded in depth and detail, however I’m choosing to generalize it because I’m cold and ready for bed. It is late September on the St. Lawrence, you know. Drinking in the cold makes for a long day.

This whole idea occurred to me tonight while visiting with three sets of dear friends in the Thousand Islands, Canada. And in talking (a lot) over the last few hours, I realized that no matter who we talked about – acquaintances, strangers, ourselves, our loved ones- each of us is just trying to make it through without screwing up too bad. In my own case, and the case of most of the people I care about, we may be a little scared about the journey and how it turns out. Hopefully in the end we’ll be proud and happy with what we’ve done in our lifetime, satisfied with what our kids and peers learn from us, better for what those people accomplish, and encouraged by what they pass on and make of the future. Hopefully.

From the files of: (Thursday Nite) TV

CSI (The original, of course – is there any other?!)

I watched the most recent episode last night, which I had recorded on the DVR. I admit, although I get impatient at times and often point out inconsistencies in the plots, I LOVE this show. Unfortunately the %*&@# recorder did not record enough of the show to get the highlights for the next episode. You've been gone for three weeks - open your f***ing mail Grissom!!

Survivor: Fiji

Not FUJI, people. FIJI. F-I-J-I.

Exile Island – complete with sea snakes. That come up on land. And also have the ability to slither around on the floor, at the TOP of the wooden tower which requires you tote an oxygen tank on your back to climb it. Ok, maybe it’s not that high – but you could see quite far out into the ocean depths from that camera angle. So where is the SAFE place to sleep?? I thought these were supposed to be SEA snakes. So WTF are they doing at the highest point on the island?! If you’re out there alone, with no machete and only the camera guy who is obviously going to be of no assistance, how do you keep it together (and survive)? Are the snakes really NOT deadly? Did Steve Irwin fake his death in order to become a snake trainer for Survivor? Doubtful. You can bet then, that if I ended up on that island I would surely come home to reside at the Funny Farm, sleeping only in the daytime and eating checkers like that guy in Overboard.

Today's file is... Antigone Rising

Had to blow the dust off of this file. It's pretty quiet over there as a new studio album is being recorded in Nashville. Below is a song that's been an outlet for me a couple of times in the past, and is once again.


What
by Antigone Rising
Written by Cassidy, C. Henderson copyright 2005 Cassidy (BMI)/Red Shirt and Zipper Music (BMI)

Lost inside the pattern
of those who'll never matter
Speak to you of freedom
rage is getting fatter

Empty as your beer can
Crush me, your a mad man
Hanging on to history of hate
in your hand

What can I say
To pull you from behind?
What can I say
To make you change your mind?

I know what you're thinking
you believe in nothing
Hollow eyes say you're not whole
and you're not bluffing
Now we can't ignore you
now we can't afford to
standing on your chest are those that go before you

What can I say to turn water into wine?
What can I say to make you change your mind?

Your anger looks so ugly like a handprint in the icing
on one more forgotten birthday of the child no one noticed
Lay the belt upon the table
hope for punishment that's better than the silence
that surrounds you and the love that never found you

What can I sayto leave your hands untied?
What can I sayto turn water into wine?
What can I say to make you change your mind?