Inspirations Vol. I

"Conan, what is good in life?"
"To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women!"

How's that for an opener, eh? So I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that this little rabbit is off his gourd. What does Conan the Barbarian have to do with anything? Well, not much really. I love that quote, though. But it does get me thinking about what I think is good in life. This being Monday, the start of the Dreaded Work Week, I think it's appropriate to start a list of what is good in life, what inspires me. Rather than dwelling on the negative, what is positive? Gag if you will, but I challenge you to do the same in your own life. What makes you happy, inspires you, or just makes you smile? It's a good exercise, especially when you need a pick-me-up after a long, hard day. So here's my list. It's by no means a complete list. Who knows, maybe I'll make this a regular post when I need some positivity. And if you refuse to read something positive and happy, be sure to check back. I'm sure I'll be writing on the other end of the spectrum soon.

THE LIST OF THINGS THAT INSPIRE ME:

1. My Wife: Ok, ok. I can hear you now, "Oh, he's just brown-nosing for points", And though it's true that I'll gladly take points, it's not the sole reason for this being a major inspiration. No other person has ever done or continues to do so much to inspire me. She is my greatest friend and my closest confidante. She encourages me to reach for the heights and supports me when I fall. She helps in any way she can, and I can always count on her to be there for me. She is wonderful incarnate, and to me there is no greater inspiration than the mere thought that she is in my life. I'm sorry if this sounds super-sappy, but I can't even begin to describe how magical she is to me. When nothing else in this world can inspire me, she can, with just the flash of a smile. Thanks, Sweetheart. Without her, life is a dull film reel that is as exciting as the safety films in school. The ones that aren't funny to make fun of.

2. The Ocean: I'm not sure where this one came from. After all, where I grew up, the largest body of water was the local "Lake". More like the local pond. I think it has to do with being a kid and every summer meant a trip to the beach. Those were some of the best times and are still clearly etched into my brain. The sound of the surf, the sand in my toes, the sun on my face, it was a recipe for magic in my mind. Tied to this is the music of the 80's. Every shop on the boardwalk was playing the new music and every radio station at the beach played the hits, so like Pavlov's dogs, my mind automatically thinks "beach" and I get the warm, happy feeling of my childhood.

As for the ocean itself, it has a power all its own on me. There is a mystery and tranquility there that soothes me when I think about it. I feel drawn to anything relating to the ocean. Aquariums, nature shows, books, anything that will give me a taste of the mysteries of the ocean. Though the night sky holds a similar sway over me, space itself is not as awe inspiring as the ocean. Perhaps it's something primordial in my brain that gives me this interest in the ocean. Maybe I just like the color blue. I'm not sure. But the Ocean is a definite source of inspiration and tranquility to me, so it is definitely on the list. Someday I hope to live near enough to the ocean that I can indulge my yearning any time I wish. Being a a landlocked lover of the sea is a difficult thing, let me tell you. To me, ocean is the stuff of dreams and contact with it is like touching the inner part of myself. Plus, riding waves is crazy fun!

Well, I think I'll leave off at two for now. Believe me, the list is long, dark and deep, but I have miles to go before I sleep. And I'm sure you do as well. So instead of assaulting your eyes with a novel-length post, I'll spoon it up in more digestible parts whenever the day is rough and I can use some lift. Hopefully it gets you thinking about your own list of inspirations. They don't have to be lofty or monumental, just those things that make you happy. When the day starts beating you down, whip out your list, think about something inspiring you, and you'll be amazed what happens. Like in Peter Pan, you may just learn to fly. Or at the very least, maybe you'll smile when life is trying to drag you down. And that's something every bit as amazing as flying.

Work is like that movie "Hostel"...

So I'm at work, right? And I'm sitting there, minding my own business, when BLAM, I'm hit with a string of projects so bizarre and laborious that I shudder to even relate to you, fair reader. It's not as though I was sitting there, scratching my behind and staring at the paint peeling off of the dull, brown walls of this place. Believe me, to contemplate the construction of this place is to walk the road to madness. Who knows what archaic diseases and outlawed materials this place is built upon? It boggles the mind...But I digress.

Back to the point at hand. So, basically this place, I have come to believe, is like the movie "Hostel". You know the one, right? The horror movie set in a European travel hostel, or cheap place to lay your head, where people with money can come, have a traveller abducted and torture them at their whim with crazy tools in a dank, dark, and horrible room. Pain is the name of this sadistic game, pain for other people's pleasure. It's frightening and horrible. That, my friend, is my job.

Sadly, comparisons are not hard to come by. Let's start with the setting. I do not work in a European hostel, but I DO work in the basement of an incredibly old building, so old that there are doors down here to which no one has keys, nor does anyone know what is behind them. Frankly, if my imagination is anywhere close to truth, I'd rather not know. Seriously. It's creepy. There is supposedly even a sub-basement below this one housing things that even the oldest worker here cannot recall. The lighting is horrible, at best, with broken and irregular track lighting being the norm. The ducts and pipework leak at varying intervals, mixing with the cool cave chillness to create a dark, dank area that comes to resemble the torture rooms of the movie. One look at this place and it's not hard to imagine people getting there teeth ripped out with rusty pliers. I know. Bad stuff.

Beyond the creepy-as-spit setting, the way this place is run is reminiscent of the film. Why? Well, this place is either run by crazed monkeys bent on world domination and failing miserably, or else it's actually an elaborate torture parlor, where sadists are paid to act as "managers" and "directors" to their delight and wreak unimaginable pain and anguish upon those poor souls fooled enough to believe this is an actual job. I mean, no one would make the decisions that are made here on a regular basis unless they derive some sick pleasure from seeing the mental scarring they are causing etched on the pinched, drained faces of the workers here. Many have worked here for so long, the life has been drained from them, one mental tooth pull at a time. So, instead of rich sadists, we have PAID sadists. Close enough, in my book.

Maybe I'm just having a bad day. Every time I step foot in this place. But it really does tell me something that I can successfully compare where I work to a sadistic torture fest of a movie. Time to move on, I guess. After all, the paycheck itself is enough to cause damage when you think about it. True story.

Greetings from Planet Me...

Howdy,

If you're reading this, then you must have gotten lost. No? Are you sure? Well, if you're gonna stay, then I guess I had better warn you about what you may encounter while visiting. You know, for liability purposes. I don't need any lawsuits just because something bit you and I didn't warn you ahead of time. Pull up that stool over there. No, not the one missing a leg. That one, the one with the plaid cushion. It's cozy on the hindquarters, don't ya know.

So, anyway, what is this place onto which you have stumbled? Well, it's basically an extension of the cluttered and dusty storage shed that is my mind. See, I have a real problem with ideas. I have 'em. Lots of them. Too many for my poor brain to handle. So I need a place to put some of these ideas, maybe even flesh them out a bit. Like one of those little barn-looking things people put in their backyard to put stuff that won't fit in the house or garage. Like one of those, only a little fancier, so I can show folks around some of the strangeness that's inside my skull. Since I will be showing things off to people, it will also force me to develop these ideas beyond a casual phrase scrawled onto a random scrap of paper from the garbage. Good stuff!

So these ideas, they may take all kinds of forms. They may spill out as stories, rants, poems, or snippets. I may just throw some stuff that comes to mind out there and see where it goes. It may result in gold or a mess. Who knows. I may just toss out a journal-esque entry about something incredible, or incredibly mundane. Whatever shows up at the time of writing will be the soup of the day. I know that some folks like to keep a blog consistent in type and content. They may blog on a theme and have multiple blogs for multiple themes. Well, no me. No sir. I go more for the chasing butterflies approach. Who knows where you'll go or what you'll see, just so long as you're chasing the dream. Or something like that. Basically, expect nothing or anything and you'll do fine. If you the kind that likes it orderly and consistent, well I'm sure you can find that somewhere else.

So, there you have it. Scared? Intrigued? Bored silly? Well, I never promised Shakespeare. But, if I haven't scared you off, then feel free to drop in every now and again and see what I put in the shed. Maybe you'll see something you like. Maybe you won't. But you'll never know unless you look.

See you around, Pard. Watch your step on the way out and remember, if you stop by again, use the stool with the plaid cushion. It's my favorite.