What? You Call That News?

I am baffled. How can so many people actually get torn up over a celebrity breakup? The other day one of the leading news stories was the breakup of Brad and Angelina. Certainly it is a sad event but is it headline worthy? Is it something that should ruin the day of people who only know this couple as celebrities? Is it possible only the media deems this as an event everyone should be distraught about? This media incident leaves me couple-1scratching my head with not one louse in sight. Wait, I think louse is singular for lice. It’s either that or singular for someone’s shiftless brother-in-law who can’t find a job and sleeps on the couch. I’ve been lucky in that department but I know a guy who had . . . Wait a minute. I’ve totally gone off track. Is this story that meaningless to me? Not to be insensitive, but maybe.

Brad and Angelina are two people I don’t know and never will. We don’t run in the same circles. Although, I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy that once saw Brad Pitt mowing the grass. The story sounds kind of fishy. If Brad Pitt ever owned a lawn mower I’d be shocked. It could have been at his parent’s house before he became a celebrity. I would also have to find out if this guy who saw him was trustworthy. That would be hard since . . . I’ve done it again. It could be I’m truly callous to the plight of celebrities.

A few years ago my neighbors separated and then divorced. It was a close neighborhood and we all hung out on occasion. We had to decide which half of the couple we would hangcrying-emoji with. Before that problem was solved another neighborhood couple divorced. I had to ask myself what the heck was going on. Were we all doomed to follow this path? Not only that but now we had another decision to make. This one would be easy for me. I played golf with him and she was a  . . . let’s just say a hard person to get along with. It wasn’t long before both problems were solved. The guy I played golf with started dating the wife of the other divorced couple. They eventually married and . . . Again I’ve strayed from the misfortune of Brad and Angelina.

   It’s true. I just don’t care. Of course I feel bad for any misfortune that befalls another human being but aren’t you just asking for trouble when you divorce your spouse to marry another? So, until someone close to me gets a divorce, adopts twenty or thirty children from a foreign country, or stars in the next blockbuster movie I’ll remain distant and aloof to the suffering of our celebrity community. Also, I do feel bad for the kids in this divorce but that’s not what the media stories have been about.




Not so long ago I was looking at old photos and taking a walk down memory lane. The photos were of me, my wife, my children and grandchildren, my brother, my parents, and many friends who have since grown distant. While looking at these photos and thinking about the time they were taken and what was going on, it’s easy to get caught up in the “Knowing what I know now” trap. I say trap because it’s easy to become remorseful about what was or wasn’t done and let’s face it, physics will not, as of yet, let us travel back in time. What the photos don’t show are the bad timephoto-of-photos-olds. There are snapshots of young love but they don’t show the hurt, anger, and heartache that accompany that young love. One picture shows me in my high school baseball uniform. Memories that seem hardwired, the smell of the grass and the warmth of the sun on a dusty baseball diamond waft around me.  I can almost hear the crack of the bat and the slap of the baseball hitting the leather of my glove. What doesn’t bubble to the surface is the pain of losing a close game or the crunch of my nose breaking during a collision. Pictures are great but usually they’re snapshots of happy times. I’m also reminded of a quote, “Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can,” Danny Kaye. If nothing more these photos are proof of paint.

They bring happiness and a feeling of nostalgia. Like a garden hoe, they pry and poke at the memory until those good feelings break through the soil like beans ready to be picked. A picture of a church youth choir yields memories of trips, love, laughter and adventure while the picture of an old ball team grows memories of victory, life, and youth. Likeold-photo-2 Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Past we’re given a glimpse of our earlier lives, usually good times peppered with the bad.

I’ve already lived those photos, the happy times and the sad. I remember myself as an awkward teen boy who couldn’t talk to girls and had to write notes on what to say before calling one. If I had the chance to do it all again I’d do it the same way. In twenty years when I look at picture of this place and time I’m sure I’ll have the same feelings of happiness and nostalgia. I might even be tempted to wish I could do it again. When the camera next comes around to snap my picture I’ll be smiling and sending a message 20 years down the road to my older self. The knowing smile will say, “I’ve thrown some paint. Now it’s your turn”.

Too Much Information About Me

This is my first post on this blog. I’ve done it before but that was a while ago and not worth the mention. A little about myself, I like to write and I really like television. You’d think that combination could have resulted in a little screen writing action but you’d be wrong. My lack of training and desire has held me back. That’s the story of my life. No baseball career, no football career, and no ballroom dancing career. If you knew me that last one would be really funny. I broke out in a short dance-move the other day while I was alone. When I realized what I was doing I became so embarrassed I grounded myself from ever listening to music while standing. My grand-kids have all thanked me for that.

I’ve had a few short stories published and one “What happened to me when I was robbed at gunpoint” story published in a fairly well known magazine. I have no less than seven unfinished novels on my computer as of the writing of this blog post. I now understand what everybody was saying when I was told you don’t go into writing for the money. I thought they were lying to me to cut down on the competition.

I’ve been much more successful at watching television than writing. Thanks to Neftlix I’ve now watched the entire season of almost every television show created in the past ten years. Some may call that success while others, like my wife, would call that a huge waste of time. If you count that along with my video game play I guess I could qualify for the world’s oldest living teenager. Some people like to fish, hunt, or engage in other sporting activities. I like all of that also, just on a video game rather than in the woods or on a field. My doctor claims I may need professional mental help. What does he know? He chose a profession where he spends his days looking into orifices others choose to hide in the dark.

That’s enough about me for now. I’ll fill this blog with many more insightful entries over the coming days and weeks. Who knows? Maybe I’ll stumble across some tidbit of information that someone other than me might find interesting. If not then there will be more time for television. I guess that’s a win – win.