Changes in Technology

Growing up, technology made up an important part of my life. People wrote me computer programs for my birthdays when I was a child. I spent days inside a major game manufacturer's headquarters testing new, never before heard of video games, and helping them determine whether their toys were built for an appropriate age. At times, cases of video games were sent home for further testing and experimenting.

When I was in high school, I was even given a Sony stereo jacket before they were ever released onto the market. The concept was that the jacket had about five speakers wired within it and you plugged the main jack into your walkman. I don't think they ever caught on, but it was quite an interesting conversation piece.

Video and computer games were often particularly central themes to my youth, as I participated in the fairly common activity of playing them everyday with my friends. As I matured, much of the other technologies of my younger days were abandoned, owing to major lifestyle changes, but video games never fully left. Granted, I no longer had the latest and greatest systems, but I still played frequently in college.

When I finished law school, I suddenly could afford the newest and greatest game systems around, and immediately began to intelligently invest my hard earned money in such wonderful objects as XBox and Gamecube. My friends would come over, and we would play for hours. As my friends changed, however, I realized that the game systems began to do nothing but look really cool as they collected dust.

It was then I considered that perhaps my obsession with video games over the years was actually directly related to the social aspect involved with the moving dots on the glowing phosphorous screen. It seems unfortunate that I realized this only after having purchased the systems. Perhaps I should give them to someone who can truly appreciate their magic and mystery, or mayhaps I could sell them for some paltry amount to help subsidize my salsa lessons.

(Don't touch my iPod, though.)

Religious Impressions*

The thing that strikes me most oftentimes about religion is not so much its ability to aid and unify, but more its ability to divide. The more I seem to learn about religions, their origins and history, the more I find both fantastic stories of kindness and selflessness, as well as hurtful and ridiculous acts of meanness, all of which are committed in the name of religion.

These acts are not just historical in nature of course; one does not have to look to the Roman conquering of nations, the Crusades, or historical examples to find examples of religion causing fundamental breakdowns in relationships and interactions of people. In fact, I think one would really only need attend my church on any given Sunday to see just how truly charitable and nurturing some religious folks can be.

One does not have to look far to see the church's involvement with political parties - the politicizing of religion - as they lobby for the politician to be placed in office that shares in that religion's beliefs and will strive to make its traditions law. One cannot help but notice the role religion plays both in the strengthening, but also the breakdown of a relationship or a marriage upon the divergence of one of the partner's beliefs. (Many evangelists would argue that this type of breakdown should not be viewed as a breakdown at all but merely a higher power taking a role in unyoking one person from another who is not more evenly matched spiritually.) Religion can also be a major factor in thwarting the relationship between a parent and child, when their views diverge and one is not able or willing to accept, and treat with equality, the other person's beliefs.

Religion can lift and strengthen some who are coping with debilitating conditions or addictions that they feel powerless to overcome on their own. However, religion can sometimes render a person sufficiently immobile and incapable of walking away from a flawed relationship or the like. (While many will preach the importance of what the Bible says about leaving such relationships, from my experience, the actual grief and fear that grips these people in such times of trouble is merely compounded by the religious doctrine that has been fostered in them, and often helps to render them hostage in a failed and damaging relationship.) So while at times religion has wonderfully positive effects on people in their development and changing, it can also have severe adverse effects on people in their development and changing - making issues that are already difficult to deal with easier or even harder.

To me religion offers promise and hope, and has the potential of lifting people from depths of despair and suffering. However, it also has the power to inflict just as much damage. It is often a question of how it is used and interpreted. Given that religion holds such awesome power, it seems almost scary that it rests in the hands of so many ordinary people.

*(These thoughts are not fully developed.)

The Wreck

While I was in Nashville, I spent quite a bit of my time in museums and the like. It made me wish my city had more culture and arts to explore.

The above is a painting by Frederick Church that is housed in the Nashville Parthenon. I could not photograph it, as photography of all the exhibits in the Parthenon, save for the very large 42' image of Athena at the very end of the tour, is strictly prohibited. I managed to find this image of it on the Web somewhere about a month ago and have been waiting to get some more space in my flickr account so that I could upload it. This digital image, however, does not even come close to doing the painting justice.

I Can't Dance

"How was it?"

"Terrible. Tragic really."

"Was it like puppies dying?"

"Ok, I guess it could have been worse."

I used to date a girl that had been dancing her entire life. The girl could move on the dance floor. She would often undertake the Herculean task of trying to educate me as to where my feet were supposed to go next, and I just could not come to terms with the knowledge she was attempting to impart.

Our lessons were usually entirely unproductive, as I would leave them feeling just about as terrible as when I had begun them. However, if we started dancing and just fooling around, I could suddenly move, as though I was channeling ... well not Fred Astaire but still someone much better than the me that took lessons. My partner would accuse me of practicing since the last lesson, but I hadn't. I hadn't done a darn thing except unsuccessfully try and forget the event had ever happened.

"This reminds me of when you would try to conduct in front of the class and suddenly every single skill that you had, instantly left you."

I instantly flashed back to those terrible classes. My friend and I had identical conducting techniques. The difference, however, was that he had more practice conducting in front of people, and I had more practice conducting to my imaginary orchestra. One of the best conductors in the country saw him conducting one day, and offered to tutor him privately. People saw me conduct and asked me if they should maybe call a doctor.

One day, my then conducting instructor saw me just practicing - believing that I was unobserved. He immediately chastised me for not conducting like that in class and I instantly felt terrible.

Something happened during the course of my life. Perhaps it relates to the fact that I was constantly told by my ever so loving father, in a myriad of forms, that I was a terrible uncoordinated klutz. It certainly helped to always make me question whether I was ever doing anything right and made me extremely self-conscious. There is also the possibility that never actually having many people in my age group to socialize with - given that the population of children my own age in my home town was approximately four, and I was rarely allowed to really spend time with any of them - affected my development, as I didn't get to practice a lot of these very theoretical and expressive things on actual people.

Whatever the reasons for it, I used to get extremely nervous when expressing my artistic side to the masses. Over time, this condition has lessened quite a bit, but as my first salsa lesson clearly illustrated to me last night, it has not completely left me.

Interior Decorating

I love the movie Phenomenon. I really feel it has a tremendous amount of interesting points and ideas swirling within it that really deserve some time and attention, and somehow, the writer found an immensely entertaining way to present all of these things.

Lots of people that are familiar with the movie might focus on the ideas that it expresses about the possibility that human beings can harness supernatural powers, or focus on what the movie implies about savoring and enjoying love and life even when it might be very fleeting, or what it says about our society, in general. However, one of my favorite scenes actually just involves furniture ... so to speak.

The hero of the movie is an auto mechanic named George, and lots of things happen to George as the story unfolds, but none of them are terribly important to this post. The one thing that does happen to him that should be mentioned here is that he falls in love with a woman named Lisa.

Lisa is a single mom struggling to make ends meet, and in an effort to earn a little cash on the side, she makes these chairs, and sells them outside of George's garage. Lisa happens to like making the chairs. She likes to consider herself crafty and artistic. Every day she drops off chairs and every day, they just keep flying off the shelves - she just can't seem to make them fast enough, and it pleases her so much that people are enjoying and appreciating her work.

Eventually, we learn that the only person buying all of these chairs is George because he knows she needs the money but more because he knows how important it is to her and how it makes her smile, and by taking just a little time, and putting forth a little effort he is trying to support her dream.

Banes: [speaking about George's transformation] He never really changed at all. Isn't that right Doc? I mean he never really got any smarter. Doc?

Doc: Banes... how's your lady love?

Banes: We... um... we broke up.

Doc: Really? That's too bad, yeah. Now George has a love at his side and she is sticking with him. You know why? Because he bought her chairs. That's pretty smart to me. You ever buy Lisa's chairs?'

Banes: Doc's real drunk tonight.

Doc: Every woman has her chair, something she needs to put herself into, Banes. You ever figure out what Lisa's chairs were and buy 'em?

[pause]

Doc: Nope.

I once had a girl ask me why I was taking the time to learn things that were important to her. My only real answer is that everyone should try and take the time to learn and understand the things that are most important to the people that we love. For it is through this exploration that we not only gain a keener sense of the other person, but also learn how to better support and encourage their dreams. Finally, if the person is not important enough to merit your time, support, and encouragement, they may not be aware of how much you value, respect, and love them. That and I just so happen to like to sit a lot.

And The Lord Said ...

On the weekends, I usually wake up to the sounds of NPR. I am not particularly fond of the NPR stations I have to choose from down here. When I was visiting my friends in North Carolina, I found that they had an NPR station with a 24 hour news and talk program format. Whereas, mine mostly consist of classical and world music programming, even on the weekends. I was aghast when I first tuned into NPR down here and learned of this, but have lived here so long that I had almost forgotten that it could be any other way.

On Sunday mornings, I usually hear parts of a program called Speaking of Faith. Leave it to Public Radio to develop a religious program that isn't usually too evangelical. Every now and again, I hear something I really like and am instantly glad that I tuned in, even if I am rather tired and wish I could fall back to sleep.

This weekend, Rabbi Sandy Sasso was being interviewed. She actually had several very interesting things to say regarding the selection of a religion and how one should introduce their children to religions in general. The thing that struck me the most was when she explained how similar all religions are in their attempt to answer certain central questions, like "Why are we here?" and "What happens when we die?" She then coherently articulated something I had been trying to convey for months - "Religion is the language that we use to express our spirituality."

Bottled Up

"I don't understand why you're uncomfortable around her."

I couldn't believe she didn't understand. She had taken an entire day explaining to me why she didn't approve of this woman's marriage and how she wanted to break her up with her husband because they just were not right for each other, and now she couldn't understand why I felt awkward and weird around these people. Every time I was with them, all I could think about was all of the horrible things she had told me about their relationship, and it's not like they knew she felt this way. As far as they were concerned, everyone was happy and having a great time so why the hell was I acting weird.

If I think something about someone, chances are I'm going to tell them. It has something to do with my inability to be fake with people. Fake bothers me. I know some people that do this often, though. People whose actions do not correspond to their feelings.

"Oh, yeah I think she's weird. She reminds me of a completely socially inept person that doesn't get away from their computer." However, when she speaks to this "inept" person, it's all smiles and friendly "hellos". This gives me doubt. What the hell does this person say about me when I'm not around? And what the hell is the point of going out of your way to socialize with people you don't actually like?

Growing up, I had a lot of things I had to keep to myself. Secrets were the rule of order in my family. Lots and lots of them. As a result, I now keep very few secrets. It's not that I cannot keep them. It's actually pretty easy for me to keep them, as I was trained for years to do so. If someone tells me something and asks me not to tell anyone, which seems to happen an awful lot, I won't say anything. However, when it comes to my own secrets, I'm far more willing to give those away, as keeping them triggers an emotion that reminds me of a past that I would rather forget. (I also am really not ashamed to express how I feel about things.)

It's more than that when it comes to my friends. If I think something about one of them, I'm going to tell them to their face, and not behind their back because I would rather they heard what I had to say from me directly, and not through some third party or a blog. Sure this may lead to a fight or an argument, and many times, I've had to bite my tongue and really evaluate whether it was my place to say anything at all, and if so, how I was going to say it. However, more often than not, if I find myself needing to talk about it with others, chances are it's important enough for me to bring up to the friend. Not because I need them to agree with me, but just so that they know where I stand. It is, as so many things are, a delicate balance.

Intelligence is Hot

Women just do not seem to understand how sexy smart is. Sure you can go out half dressed and show off some skin or adorn yourself in the clothes that tighten and cling in just the right places, more or less revealing what you look like without them on at all, and drawing the gazer's attention to the areas you want his nights and dreams to be consumed with. However, that beauty is always, truly only skin deep.

Sophistication and intelligence are hot and far less transient. If you have those two things and you can own them, your perceived sexiness quotient has just increased five times over. Granted, beauty is relative, and once you start multiplying by factors of five, large dichotomies emerge. However, it doesn't change the validity of the point.

The fact that she just raised a valid argument and made me question my reasoning on something; the fact that the discussion was mildly stimulating or a challenge at all; the fact that she knew that obscure reference and could capitalize on it; or the fact that she knew where she would end up if she were to burrow through the Earth, starting in Ohio (of course) is hot.

Guys love smart women. That's why Van Halen had it bad for teacher, or why the sexy librarian can turn heads. Sure these women have physical allure as well. There's no denying that, but the power of a smart women can never be underestimated. For while the women that thrill with their looks are intriguing, I'm likely to see fifty more of those within a week. The woman that thrills me with her mind, will capture my attention for years to come.

How Sweet

"You're just too nice." She said this as an admonishment, and with pain and distress in her voice. "You often come off, in the beginning with the veneer of mean and uncaring, but it really is just a thin veil."

A look of confusion quickly spread across his face. "I thought that's what people looked for in a relationship."

"They do. They do. I do ... or did. You just don't understand. Most women start out looking for that nice guy, that good guy. The one that we are repeatedly told is out there for us. After many false starts and lots of pain, some of us unconsciously give up in believing that he exists and no longer know what to do with him if we ever find him. Sure I could trust you, and I probably should trust you. I've known you for a while and I know the type of man you are. I just don't know how and I'm too afraid to learn. I told you, 'I have issues,' but they aren't your issues. They're mine."

"I'm really not that nice."

A snort of disbelief and dismissal followed with, "You're nicer than you'll know."

He saw the dots connecting but just couldn't believe the picture they were forming. This was so.... "You're telling me that you could never date me because I'm too nice?" This probably would have been more disconcerting information if he hadn't heard it before.

"If I dated you, I would hurt you. I wouldn't want to hurt you. I care about you tremendously. I think you're one of the most amazing guys I have ever met. I just have no way of being able to overcome myself."

"Good times."

Her mirthful laugh was quickly replaced by earnestness. "The thing that concerns me most with you is that there really aren't a lot of nice people out there, from my experience. I really wish you would be meaner. I wonder what impact others will have on you over the years. I would like to think that you will always stay this amazing guy that is so nice and sweet, but I don't envision it occurring. Already you have that cool aloof front that you put out there. I wonder who got you to erect that barrier. I worry that others' issues will cause you to have more of your own, as that's what happened to me."

She really could have cried.

Mark of the Beast

I have been fairly terrible about blogging during the week. It's tragic, as I know you all wait with great anticipation for me to publish whatever meaningless drivel I might have for the day. I have been good about posting. It's just that almost all of it occurs over the weekend - when I actually have time to collect my thoughts and commit them to virtual paper. However, there have been a few events that have not made it into any posts, as none of them really seem to have what it takes to make it. For example, here's a little something for all you religion buffs.

You know that whole June 6, 2006 end of the world thing? Well according to religious scholars "666" is not the mark of the beast; "616" is. So apparently, if the world was going to end on any day this year, given the recent apocalyptic logic, it would have ended five days before these folks thought. I imagine that to be a truly terrible way to go. Here you are totally convinced that the world is going to end on Saturday, getting all of your affairs in order, planning what to do on that very last day, and poof - you and the rest of creation dies on Monday. That's tough.

Blogging Inspiration

My best friend from college finally started a blog. To make it even better, she gave me credit for being the reason that she started blogging. *sniffle* I've inspired someone.

She actually started it a few weeks ago, but I wasn't sure if I should post about it yet because 1) I wasn't sure if she'd keep posting and 2) because I wasn't sure if I was allowed to announce to the world that she had a blog. But she did and I am. And, no, I'm not just posting about it to brag about being the sole inspiration for someone else to start a blog. (Alright, that may be overkill. She never said I was the *sole* reason, but then again, she never said that I wasn't.) I'm actually posting about it because you might like reading it. I know I do.

Miscellaneous Activities

I bought a portable 60GB hard drive. I had been wanting one for a while and it was on sale. It's so impressive. It's smaller and lighter than many paperback books that I own. I considered buying something with more storage space, but they weren't on sale and I figured with the rapidly changing technology market, there will be something even better in a couple of years.

On Saturday night, I went to a club that was quite an experience. My friends wanted to go to this singles bar. They said it was always an entertaining show. I have to say that you haven't lived until you've seen sixty year old men and women trying to get their game on. There were the young women looking for their sugar daddies, the older women looking for something younger, and just a lot of men looking to score with whatever happened to be available. My particular favorite was this guy that had to be at least sixty, dancing with any woman that passed within 20 feet of his general direction. I don't think I've ever laughed that hard for that long in a good while.

I went to a seminar last week and learned that home foreclosures are on the rise (especially in major Texas cities like Dallas and Houston). This could be good news for first time home buyers in places like South Florida as they may actually be able to afford a home at a distressed sale, but good luck affording our ever increasing insurance prices.

It seems that practically every guy in my church classes was either in prison, a drug addict or both. I am really not sure what that says. It can often be just a wee bit unnerving, however.

Owning It

"Maybe we just shouldn't be friends."

The statement hung there in the still night air.

You could see the pain and anger spread across her face. How dare I say something like that? How dare I trivialize our friendship and use it as a bargaining chip in this debate? What the hell was wrong with me and why did I keep doing this? Sure the first time it had some shock value, but after the fourth or fifth time, it now only had the effect of angering her. But I wouldn't be dissuaded; I wasn't going to be tied to anyone that didn't act in accordance with my set of norms.

It wasn't until years later that I realized that it had been easier for me to distance myself from people than actually form relationships. It was the trick of my mind; I needed to be able to justify my reasoning for not wanting to be around the person so that I didn't have any internal conflict later. "They just couldn't handle being friends with me." It was easier to distance myself from the people that I cared about the most, as I had no reason to believe in the permanence of a relationship of any kind and spent so much of my time wondering when the person was going to leave. I was preemptive in nature. Everything in a relationship was a negotiation or a debate and nothing mattered more than achieving my desired outcome.

It was also my desperate need to control. The co-dependence had crept in before I even knew it. I needed to fix things. I needed to show people the err of their ways, but not in any manner that could possibly be considered healthy. Instead, I would use the friendship at the drop of the hat and not as a last resort; something reserved for that point where the person had so betrayed me that I could never trust them again. Besides, focusing on others gave me a diversion from focusing on myself.

"Let me take you to dinner."

Why was she taking me dinner? What did she want? I knew this game; no one does anything without expecting something in return. It was more than I could handle that someone just might want to do something nice for me just because we were friends. I wouldn't even be able to say "thank you", too frozen with confusion and embarrassment. I could take all the abuse in the world, I had grown up with it, but someone was actually nice to me and I immediately felt inadequate, undeserving, and really nervous. Receiving was never comforting for me because I always was wondering where the next hit was coming from. I could not relax in the moment. It was a tremendous internal conflict, in retrospect, as I desperately wanted that closeness and nearness of a relationship, but I couldn't actually experience it.

"Yeah ... I remember those days. I really didn't like them very much. I'm glad that you figured all of that stuff out."

"Yes, but it took years of therapy. If you had come to me back then and told me all of this, I would have argued with you and never would have believed you."

Note: This post is not meant to trivialize anyone's battle with any issue they may be facing. It's not even meant to encapsulate my entire journey or explain all of the underlying factors that I found to be contributing to my issues. Everyone is affected and impacted by things differently and one person's journey will not necessarily be another's. The most important aspect of the entire thing is starting it and trying to never be dissuaded from your ultimate goal.

"Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."

State of My Blog

Several days ago someone posted an anonymous comment on my blog, which I subsequently deleted. Not because it was negative. In fact, this one was relatively nice, which is unusual from the land of anonymous. I deleted it because no matter how nice an anonymous comment is, it still annoys me that the person wouldn't even put their name down.

However, as I thought about it, there was something familiar about this comment. It inspired me to look through my blogger log and what I discovered led to the following discussion:

"What do you mean she's still reading your blog? I thought she hated you and never wanted to speak to you again."

"I guess her hatred for me only extended to my physical form - not the virtual."

"Well what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I could move it or end it. I'm really conflicted about it. I have nothing against her, other than the fact that she totally abandoned our friendship ... frequently."

"She was very nice but she hurt you a lot, on a regular basis. It got to the point where it no longer was a question of 'if' but 'when'."

"Yeah, but in a good way."

*starring at me*

"Alright, she had her bad points, but she also inspired me without ever really knowing it. I'm not even sure how she did it exactly. Every day, the thing that I most looked forward to was our impending three hour conversation, which was sure to occur that night, in which I would hear all about her day and she would hear all about mine and we would pick on each other like 5 year olds. (Some would say 10, but I don't think we were ever that mature.) Somehow this helped me orient my thoughts, made me feel better, and inspired me to wake up the next day and do it all over again. My thoughts flowed freely. So many posts on my blog are owing to her - not because they relate to her but because she somehow inspired me to write them. Even if it was only by sometimes saying, 'You need to update your blog'. 'She'll bring out the best and the worst you can be.'"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Does that mean you don't want your fries?"

"Stay away from my fries, bitch."

"So I'm conflicted. I bear her no ill will, but at the same time, she left. She said, "Good luck" and never spoke to me again. I can't see why she would still be reading my blog and I don't see why she should be entitled to keep up with my life."

"Maybe she's curious. I'm sure you are curious about how she is. I mean, you clearly miss her, for some unimaginable reason."

"Right, but that's the point - it doesn't seem fair that she gets to walk away from me and still keep up on my life and I don't get to know anything about hers."

"It doesn't seem fair that we're having this conversation.... I suppose she always was a rather private person. Perhaps it's almost a perfect dream for her."

"You're really going to eat all your fries aren't you?"

Back for More

"So let me get this straight. This guy beat you, cheated on you with at least two women, is constantly critical of you and making you feel self-conscious, and you are worried about whether or not you look good enough to keep him?"

"When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous. Have you ever considered going back out with your ex?" (He was arguably the nicest guy this girl ever dated, and from all accounts, was pretty attractive.)

"I couldn't date him again. And you know the really messed up thing?"

"There's more?"

"As jealous as I am, I really hope he meets someone because he deserves better. He's such a great guy."

"I think you've lost your mind. You're telling me you gave up the really nice attractive guy for the drug addict abusive cheating guy that treats you like crap? How the hell does that make any sense?"

"I'm hoping he'll change."

"Co-dependent."

"Shut up. My therapist said the same thing, but I'm over that now." Proof positive that therapy only works when you own up to yourself.