Current location:	far from the maddening crowd
Current mood:	melancholy
Current music:	Missy HIggins - The Sound Of White

This And That

I've been going full-tilt in the Facebook world for nearly a year now, sometimes posting lots, sometimes posting little, and for all my carping about it, I don't hate it, I really don't - in fact, I kind of like it, if I can accept its limitations.

But the thing is, even though it's possible to write longer pieces on FB, some people actually get cranky about it, and one person I know even went so far as to 'de-friend' me for posting too often, told me it was annoying that I posted so many little things to my FB Wall.

Of course, I know there are at least a dozen of my nearly ten dozen Facebook Friends who not only read, but actually seem to enjoy what I post - or at least they say they do - and what's more, Facebook has allowed me to reconnect with some old friends with whom I'd lost touch for years, and to have some level of contact with persons who'd otherwise be out of my life altogether.

But, with all that said, there's still something a bit disturbing about the whole FB experience.



I think what annoys me the most is the sterile but confusing layout, punctuated by the twitter-like staccato banality of so much of the interaction that goes on there, my own not excepted, which in spite of my serious ADD-like tendencies, I find all a bit overwhelming. And if that weren't enough - and don't you think it ought to be - there's the shabbiness that is the FB IM system, the interminable invites to join causes, and all the 'pieces of flair' that otherwise well-meaning people keep sending. I mean, really, it's enough to make a grown man cry.

Who am I kidding? I mean, yes, it's irritating as Hades, but for an attention-starved middle-aged schmuck like me it's like some kind of Brokeback Internet Meth-Cocaine, one hard addiction to quit, and I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I will need at least the Methadone version for a long, long time.

Fancy a super-poke, my friend?

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LK, AE and Mrs. Muzzy came back late Friday afternoon from a week in Disneyworld, having funded their very own economic stimulus package in support of the Giant Mouse of Orlando, and as frustrating as it is to cope with the wee ones bickering and complaining all the time, I'm glad to have them back. I really missed my honey-bunnies, and so did my kitty, methinks.
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Mrs. Muzzy spent a good deal of time Saturday playing with her new Linux HP Netbook, whilst I spent an hour or two researching various aspects of the SUSE Enterprise Linux 10 that the machine uses, but I finally gave up and went and bought a $40 book about the OS at Barnes and Noble.

Of course, I am now possessed of the urge to get an eee PC Netbook for myself, one with the 40 gig flash drive, and the 10-inch screen, and the simplified version of Xandros Linux, which seems more my speed. I just have to figure out if I can reasonably justify buying one. Oh, WTH, I can afford it, right?

Meh
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AE went off with her Grandma on Saturday AM to see a play at the Children's Theatre, and LK had to be taken cross-town to a birthday party with one of her little chums, so after dropping her off I went for a walk in the warmish sunshine. My foot was hurting - as it usually is - but I still walked about a mile or two, just to say I did.

Gawd, I hate being unable to walk as much as I'd like without being in excruciating pain. It's so humiliating and frustrating to be restricted in doing the one form of exercise that I not only enjoy but that it is really good for me: it helps burn calories (I lost ten pounds last year from upping my steps), it helps my mood (when I am anxious or depressed, which is far too often, a tonic for my body and soul), and it can even be a social thing (my brother and I would walk and talk a lot this past year, when he was going thru some hard times).

I keep hoping that any day my foot will heal, and I'll be able to engage in unmolested pedorthic locomotion, but that seems not to be, and I have the notion that this is going to afflict me forever, 'til the day I am taken off to the gallows to be hanged by the neck under the Unable-To-Suffer-Pain-With-Dignity-And-Grace Act.
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While I was out walking in NE Minneapolis/Saint Anthony, I stopped at the large Italian-looking St. Charles Bartolomo Catholic Church and admired the simple beauty of the place, and after walking around the empty sanctuary two or three times, I settled into a back pew for a few moments of quiet prayer and meditation.

I am not Catholic, nor have I ever seriously considered seeking spiritual sanctuary in the bosom of the Church of Rome, but I find a certain majesty in so many Catholic Churches, with the Stations of the Cross, the incense and candles, and the gorgeous buildings. Okay, that's not always the case: I've been in Catholic Churches that display the most vulgar and garish post-modern lack of architectural taste, but there's a graceful grandeur in many Catholic Churches that is seriously lacking in that of a lot of their Protestant cousins.

Anyway, I picked up a bulletin from the pew rack - there seemed to have been a morning Mass an hour or two before - and turned it over to find a whole back-pageful of ads for various business concerns in the neighborhood, and I must say, all the wonder of the moment slipped away as I read pitches for funeral homes and florists, hamburger joints and dentists, and even an ad for an repair shop or two. I mean, I don't mean to be excessively uncharitable, but it all just seemed really tacky to me.

(Check out this example from a different church's bulletin here.)

And see, it's not that I object to the idea of God and Mammon somehow peacefully coexisting, and I'm not in the least bit anti-business, but it just seems a bit shabby and tawdry for a House Of God to take on advertising, right there in the church bulletin. I mean, what's next? Baptisms sponsored by the local bottled water distributors? Weddings sponsored by Celexa and Wellbutrin? Homilies sponsored by the local college adult-ed programs? Sheesh.

In the end, while I disagree strongly with my Catholic Brothers and Sisters on some matters of theology, I generally have a great deal of admiration and respect for them, but on this issue they and I will have to agree to disagree.
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Anyway, after I brought LK home, I went back out again to several bookstores, looking for the aforementioned book on SUSE Linux, and for a couple of books to replace the ones I gave to a friend earlier in the week, but came up empty-handed. I guess I'll have to try eBay, maybe. See, I never really loan anything to anyone, mostly cause I don't believe it's a good idea, especially between friends, as things have a way of getting lost, but I will give books and cd's and dvd's if I think they will be appreciated, and I try to have an extra copy or two of my favorite half-dozen books to give to the persons in my life I think might read and enjoy them.
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I know this is probably quite evident to anyone who knows me, but I'm continually amazed at how wrong I can be about life, about everything really - the stock market, the weather, the best route home - but especially about people. I mean, I'm forever thinking I have things between me and others figured out, only to discover I've entirely misapprehended something that in retrospect should have been completely obvious, but it just never is.

What's more, even when I figure out that something is amiss, I always seem do the wrong thing: I zig when I should zag, and zag when I should zig, keep my mouth closed when I should speak up, and blurt out foolishness when I should just keep quiet. I just can't seem to get it right. Ever.

And what is most disconcerting is that not only do I seem to get things so very wrong, so very often, but that my reaction to it all seems be what causes me far more distress than is remotely warranted, as if beating up on myself for things I cannot change is the least bit useful.

But that's the thing, I am not a very adept socially, and I rather like a certain level of solitude, as lonely as it often leaves me, yet I also want to connect with others, too, and I think that dichotomy - made worse by the fact that I stir myself into a frenzy when things appear to go wrong - has been the source of a significant amount of discontent in my life, and I fear it always will be so.

Sigh.
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I really like the new Lily Allen album. I know, she's got a bit of a potty-mouth, and her lyrics are rather juvenile and poorly-constructed, but she's refreshingly honest in her writing, and her voice is oh-so-pretty - well, so is she - and I just really like her, and I'd love to meet her. Okay, I know better than that. Her politics are foolish, and I suspect I'd find her insufferable in person, just as she'd no doubt think me boring and idiotic, but I still like her music, and I love her new album, especially 'The Fear.' It's sheer genius, in my never-to-be-humble opinion.
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As of yesterday it is now officially Spring, and there have been days when the temps have been quite pleasant, even if the buds won't start popping out for another couple of weeks, and of course, it's not until the flowers and trees are crowned in green that the full impact of the season is apparent. Indeed, I love Minnesota Springs, with the warm days and cool nights, the air laden with the fragrance of Lilacs, but it also feels like a cruel time of year in that I've experienced several breakups and a job layoff during the months of March and April and May, and the juxtaposition of the renewal of life against memories of black sheets of howling anguish always leaves me a bit out-of-sorts, and I suspect I will always struggle with that.
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Okay, my head is full-to-overflowing of thoughts on the current president's administration, and I'll have to save most of it for another post, but for this: POTUS BHO seems to be an affable fellow, rather intelligent, but possessed of foolish ideas, and I fear that he is leading this country over a cliff, and into a sea of financial calamity from which we may not escape in my lifetime, even as I pray that I am wrong
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I think this is enough for now, don't you? Peace, out.
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