Rain.

Yep! It's raining!

Rain is neat. I like rain. Many people like the rain, but this is my blog, so you're going to listen to me go on about rain for a bit. Got a problem with that?! Yea... that's what I thought...

Anyway, rain is a cleaning of the world, which approximately 4,534,643,642 people have noted before me. It clears out the air, but I suppose what I really like is the smell of ozone that goes along with the thunder. There have only been a few instances when I wish the lightening and thunder weren't there, and most of there were when I was outside in a field, holding a 20' flag pole (long story...). Other than that, I'm a big fan of the lightening.

I view rain in a few different ways, as I'm sure a lot of people do, even if they aren't aware of it. When you're laying in bed listening to it rain outside, sitting at work listening to the downpour bludgeoning the roof, or if you're in the car, where the sound could be so loud you don't hear anything else but the water from above.

This first picture reminds me of forest rain, or nature rain. Heavy rain when there is a lot plants, forest, or general foliage around, and the smell of the plants and soil permeates the air with the constant pounding of the water from the sky. I sometimes think I smell that odor when I am in certain wet areas, like mountain valleys that don't get a lot of sunlight. I associate that smell with the cabin in Tennessee, and the state park nearby. All of the rivers and waterfalls give that wet forest smell, although it lacks the nasty moistness that comes from a dreary rain.

Another view of rain I have is from the viewpoint of the soakin' wet pedestrian caught unawares. To be completely drenched, with no hope of preventing further wetting, and I just accept the fact that 1) I am very wet and 2) That condition can only get worse, and it probably will do just that.

When you've accepted certain conditions, you can look at it differently. If you are prepared to get nasty and muddy when working in the yard (or whatever), when it happens it's not as big a deal as if you slipped and fell in a puddle on the way to work or class. The same things happens in the rain. You accept the rain and it covering you, so you can see and hear the rained on environment more clearly, or at least in a different way. You can see and hear how the drops hit the yards, asphalt, or concrete, and smell how each of them differ. You can feel the drops bouncing off of the ground back up to you, which in itself reminds me of sitting down in the shower (a pretty unique experience in itself, yah?). You can feel the heat still coming off of the ground, and the steam that forms when the colder rain hits home, just as you can feel a chill set in when the ground's heat is lost, followed quickly by shivering of your own.

This type of rain experience usually occurs by mistake, such as when I'm waiting for someone to pick me up, and it starts to get cold and rainy. Waiting to leave or go is something I've had to do way too much of, and such circumstances I have somewhat grown accustomed to, unfortunately. However, that has helped me to appreciate such things as getting caught in the run with shelter being a good 45-minute walk away.

The usual view I think most people (and myself) enjoy rain from is from the comfort of the indoors. Hearing the rain on the windows and the roar of the water on the roof (preferably a tin roof), with the thunder shaking the walls and making you question whether you are indeed safe in that particular place. The patter of the rain easily lulls you to sleep, and brings images of bed, pillows, and blankets. Even if you don't sleep, it seems to fit right for a nice storm.

You can see the water trailing down the glass, and feel the cold permeating the window if you hold your hand up to it. Paths of water form in the yards and streets, and every now and again you may see an earthworm or a piece of litter float by.

Being nice, why, and why not

So, I had a chat session recently, and some comments resulted in my standing upon my digital soap box. I kind of liked the result, so I fixed it up (just a bit) and pasted it below. (sorry about the formatting)
_________


Being super nice isn't always a good thing... it can back fire, or cause trouble... But, I try, regardless. Because... why not? The world sucks. It's a horrible, dark, unforgiving place not meant for a sentient species, and it's the one "true" sentient species is trying to kill itself half the time. So, why bother even living or trying? Because, it's the one thing you can constantly strive for, because it goes against what seems to be the nature of man and nature, to control things, but to still make things good and nice and fair.

The world isn't fair, but it doesn't mean we can't strive to make it more fair for more people.

So, even if it SUCKS that's just more of a reason to do nice things and say nice things and to be a nice person. Even if you don't feel like one sometimes. When I see others suffer or in pain, it's then I'm reminded of it, which probably results in my nurturing nature.

I've worked with and known so many sad, lonely people that didn't try to make anything of themselves, and I worked to make their lives better. It's such a relief to know people and help people that will help themselves, and appreciate what's done for them. Anyhoo, you probably belong in the latter group, being independent, and certainly not helpless or anything like that.

Why any of us bother is the question, indeed. We bother because without good people the world falls apart. And I really couldn't care less about the world. It's the people I care about, and my friends, and the kids I see. Those are the people the world should be better for even if I'm fucked up and so in everyone else, if I can push and shove and punch the world into a better shape, even for just my nephews, it's worth it. If I can, maybe, do the same for friends, then the more power to it.

So, when things are bad (as we both know how that can get, in so many ways), I  look at the fate, or destiny, or whatever it is making things hard, and "Fuck you," and push on, because I'd rather be beat up and trounced on my whole life trying to do something decent, then to just get through this life by just getting by, and making it worse for others.

Those people I referred to... an alcoholic mother whose daughters I watched grow up, and who I help take care of. The mother was nice, actually, but couldn't get the drinking under control, which I tried to help her get off of, and get to AA and stuff, and to help her daughters understand as much as one can understand such a thing, and in the end, the dad took the girls away, which was for the best, and only then did the mom get around to sobering up.

So, now the mom is missing out on her daughters' daily lives, and I never get to see them.

That's maybe not the best example, but the idea of "helping those who help themselves." That if there's two groups of people that could use help (in some way, even if it's just listening or cheering them up sometimes), so I'm scarred in some way by that, and rejoice when there are people I can help who try to help themselves. and, every now and again, there's someone who doesn't need help, and it takes so long getting used to that, because I rarely get to be around that kind of person.

(Definition of needing help is subjective, of course)

The truth about everything (copyright)

So, I like true things. I think that's because when things are not true, are lies, exaggerations, or concealments of some kind, it makes everything so difficult. Someone once said they like kids because kids have yet to learn to lie well. I get that idea.

Now, don't get me wrong. While frankness can be a virtue, there are some things that should always and forever remain unsaid, particularly between friends and family. Some things cannot be unsaid, so to speak, and once that comment has been unlocked, it can act as a dark shroud over a relationship from then on. THOSE things should remained locked away. There's nothing as annoying as those people that pull out those extreme things to say during a random argument: "I wish you wouldn't invite people over without telling me beforehand!" "Oh, yea? Well your father was a drunk and made you a coward, and that's why your first wife left you!" That? That's just inappropriate.

However, true, as a rule, I think should be present. Unfortunately, not everyone believes this, so it doesn't do me any good. It's sort of the idea that if you're the only sane one in a world of insane people, you're the one not fitting in. So, if you try to be truthful and upfront as a general rule, you're going to be shot down by those that are used to playing by some hidden sets of rules or politics. Ugh!

One reason I'm particularly fond of the truth is that I believe everyone can get along better. Gee.. that wasn't cliché at all! I mean that if people were open, then they could understand, if not condone, the thoughts and actions of others. That's something I believe I'm proud of: For almost everyone, I can understand why they do or say things, even if I personally don't think it's appropriate or a good idea.

People want to keep things hidden from others, and even from themselves. I can accept someone explaining that they would not want to answer a question or explain something, but cannot accept it when someone lies to me or to themselves, only to have the results later be negative because of it. This paragraph is really randomly and not well-written, but I think you're getting the idea: I like to speak the truth and be told the truth, because that is the essence of who we are, and if we deviate from that, it opens up the possibility for bad things to happen.

Kids say the darndest things.

So, enjoy this little ditty of a movie. That's little nephew Heath. He apparently enjoys his pizza. There's nothing like being able to take a handful of delicious food and just shove it into you mouth, over and over again. He did the same thing with his 1-year birthday cake. He pokes and prods it for a bit, then someone shows him that the cake is actually edible. Then he proceeds to stuff fistful after fistful of birthday cake into his gaping maw. I think he must have put away half of that cake before someone realized that the cake is probably 13 times larger than his stomach.

He also enjoys books. A lot, apparently. His favorite hobby seems to be picking a book, and saying, "Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook..." over and over, while walking up to someone (often me, when I'm there). So, of course, I wish to oblige his budding desire for knowledge and the love for reading, so I sit down, open the book, and with a flourish begin the story, "At the far end of town where the grickle-grass grows, and the wind smells slow and sour as it blows, and..."
"Ook. Ook."
Yes, Heath. We have a book and we're reading it now. You don't have to keep turning the pages until I'm ready."
"Ook. Ook." Heath leaves to find another book. "Ook. Ook."
Well, okay, Heath. We can read that book instead. "Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy."
Pay attention, Heath. This a good boo.."
"Ook. Ook."
Heath, we have a book. Let's read it, shall we?
"Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook. Ook."Heath leaves to find another book. "Ook. Ook."
FINE! We'll read THAT book instead. "OnceuponatimeblahblahTheEnd." Are you happy now? Are you? Huh??!?
"Ook."
(Chris's brain short-circuits, and he suffers a massive coronary of the brain. Yes, a coronary of the brain, and then slumps onto the floor.)
(A dog licks him)
(Heath laughs)
"Ook." (Heath goes in search of someone else to read a book with.)

Too much thinking!

So, I think a lot... probably too much. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for solid cognitive activity. Some kinds of intelligence are really attractive, and just make life easier to get through. Not necessarily just someone who knows a lot of stuff, because straight memorization isn't interesting at all, but the kind of intelligence that leads to unique thought, thoughtful responses and queries, and conversation that makes you think twice about something (see previous post about preprogrammed responses). That's the kind of intelligence I'm talking about.

But... I digress. Excessive thinking. It is not uncommon to hear about someone over-thinking something, or thinking too deep about it, or maybe even just thinking too long on something. I would count myself guilty of all three, although thank goodness I don't give in to the various thoughts and the emotions that were derived from them. Some day I will find a job or hobby or something where excessive over-thinking proves useful. Then it would be good to think about a choice, analyze each the probable consequences, then imagine an entire slew of improbably consequences, and the actions that lead to and result from all of those choices. Yay full brain!

I think that's why oftentimes I like simple things, because there is either little or no thinking involved. It is simply doing. Tasks such as some kinds of manual labor, or activities where I can let my mind wander, fade away, blob out, or maybe even just sort of lose control some. I think that's why some activities and situations are particularly enticing, because I can get lost in them.

I find it ironic that my over-thinking on a regular basis (as in, most waking moments, including conversations) leads to my actions and words being more convoluted than if I tired or impaired! If you want to get a pretty good conversation out of me, minus the mumbles, slurred sentences, rapid speech, and topic-jumps, then chat me up when I'm tired, drunk, etc. It will make for a good time for both parties, I'd wager.

Stretching Your Muscles

One of the things I love to do most is stretch my muscles. Unfortunately, my entire life I've been less flexible than around 92% of the population. Fortunately, stretching my muscles usually refers to a whole lot more. For example, I rarely get to use my Big Voice, the voice I need to use when someone is far away, or I need to get someone's attention immediately. Similarly, rarely is the Big & Charged Voice used, a voice I might use to rally an army (something I don't do as much anymore) or give an impassioned speech. I'm actually thinking about creating some podcasts of me reading or reciting passages, poems, etc., in the voices I never get to use, but would still like to. That sounds like an interesting project to do every now and again.

Physically, I do love to be active. I garner no pleasure pickings up things all over a yard or a living room, or scrubbing a shower down. However, to be able to swing an ax, rev up a chainsaw, or knock down a tree is a good feeling, where I can do a lot of Manly, Testosterone-Filled Activities. Fortunately, my brother's yard provides both the tools and the work to be completed. Hopefully next up will be continuing the terracing of part of his yard, which involves 1) moving giants hunks of wood 2) moving large piles of dirt and 3) sledgehammers.

I find it ironic (though it's no surprise to anyone) that completing such tasks is a lot more enjoyable when I have a goal to work towards. Jogging slowly for 30 minutes? Boring.... Running for an hour while chasing or being chased? Going to the gym? Ugh.... hauling around heavy things and operating destructive machinery that can kill or maim myself and on-lookers? Delightfully enjoyable!

I also thoroughly enjoy stretching my mental muscles, too. Everyone knows the mental fatigue associated with busy-work at school or one's place of employment, and I'm not different (mostly, at least). I would much rather think around corners than work within the box. I have realized, however, that I actually have trouble thinking in the box at all, which makes some of life difficult... My thinking is like those Rube Goldberg machines: Unnecessarily complicated, but still gets the job done. I like it when the situation calls for extreme thinking and creativity, but, like others things, there's rarely an opportunity to stretch those muscles.

If you've talked with me for any part of time, you can probably see the over-thinking in my communication. Whenever I interrupt, or go off on some sort of conversational tangent, it's my mind tapping into preconceived ideas, thoughts, jokes, or stories that were triggered by something someone else had said, and trying to speak those things. It can be a slightly enjoyable trick to do on command (or so I'm told), but is a handicap with real communication. How fun can life be that with almost every thing someone says, you have a "pre-programmed" response? Not fun.. unfortunately... perhaps entertaining at times, and useful with academics... but otherwise... eh!

Blog feeds now available

In my eternal quest to appear as conceited as possible, I have created a general RSS feed and a Google feed, in case you want to be updated immediately when I write more in my blog. Yay? If you don't know how to use feeds, there are plenty of directions (which should appear when you click on one of those links), or if you're bold just send me an e-mail asking. :)