Multidimensional Multitasking For Multifaceted Malcontents

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , , , , ,

“Write without pay until somebody offers to pay”
– Mark Twain

Preamble:

These days, I’m in the middle of a big project. Well, more specifically, it’s several projects that are all interrelated. OK, actually I’ll be honest, the the only thing these projects have in common is that they are blog related and part of my overall scheme to see some profit from blogging in a ‘professional’ and very focused manner. Sounds good except for one problem: my creativity does not afford my mind the luxury of being able to ‘stay the course’ and focus on one thing at a time.

Regardless of the above, a wise man, expert in the ways of blogging, told me to focus on 1 thing at a time. He suggested I give 100% of my effort and attention to one blog, as opposed to 20% of my energy to 5 different projects. Easily enough said, and of course in all my born years I’ve heard that many times over. In fact, you’d think that by now, I’d know better. Apparently not! Yet, I do believe I have ‘just cause’ for dismissing such well-intentioned advice. Let me explain:

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Tomatoes, Weiners, and Horses: Three Lessons

Jay Leonard Schwartz Uncategorized , , , ,
Over and over, the crow cries, uncover the cornfield.
– Cabinessense: Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks

 

Here are three lessons to be learned from stories in real life and the news.

Lesson #1: Rotten Tomatoes
I live in a big city, on a main street that leads to the ‘centre’ of town. There are currently 3 supermarkets within an eighth of a mile radius from my apartment. Yesterday, I went into the closest one, the one in which I usually prefer NOT to go to. It’s small, the cashiers don’t smile, and the store’s inventory is more suited for senior citizens. Well yesterday, only because it’s across the street from me, I popped in quickly because we were out of milk. When I was checking out, one of the usually sour-puss cashiers offered me a package of cherry tomatoes … for free!

I was impressed, to say the least. I said thanks and left. When I got home, I mentioned to my ‘significant other’ the amazing circumstance that had transpired. Now she likes cherry tomatoes and so I wanted to show her this wonderful bounty that had fallen to me. She also was surprised I had got them for free. I joked, “yeah, they’re probably from Spain or Germany and teeming with that new strain of E. Coli”. I laughed. She laughed. Then I looked at the label; it read “product of Spain”.

Lesson to be learned: Never look a gift horse in the mouth, unless it has Mad Cow Disease, or has brought you produce from Germany or Spain.

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Put The Pork Down! Step Away From The Table!

Jay Leonard Schwartz Uncategorized
Born In The USA ?

“My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four unless there are three other people!” 
– Orson Welles

Seeing as a new strain of  Escherichia Coli is spreading across Europe, I thought the timing was ripe for me to focus on all matters gastronomical. Don’t let the technical term for e. coli scare you, it’s still the same old bacteria that might be swarming over your ‘gherkin’ – um, that’s German for cucumber, and of course it’s those German cukes you do want to be careful of. Know what I mean? I think you do!

Anyway, recently I read an article in USA Today excusing the fact that Americans are rotund, overweight, fat, tubby and obese. No, terms like ‘pleasantly’ or ‘deliciously’ plump did not spring to mind, nor did the culturally insignificant ‘zaftig’. I was amazed at how wishy washy and namby pamby the exoneration was for us Americans who readily squirt Ready Whip and Cheez Whiz down our gullets. Perhaps the author intended to inspire sympathy for a nation of genetically challenged porkers. I’m not sure, but let’s be honest here, I’m an American, ipso facto I’ve been conditioned to consume ad nauseum. I’m fat, and it’s not because of my DNA. It’s because I open my mouth and act like a Hoover vacuum cleaner whenever I’m at the table, in front of the fridge, and at every convenience store I chance to pass.

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Intrasomatic Conspiracy: Part 5 – Not Born To Run

Jay Leonard Schwartz Intrasomatic Conspiracy , ,
Once you’re over the hill, you begin to pick up speed.
– Charles M. SchulzI’ve mentioned before that just when I seem to be making headway in terms of achieving some semblance of physical fitness, or even a modicum thereof, my body seems to rebel. I’ve referred in the past to this as an ‘intrasomatic conspiracy‘. Well, it seems that having gotten off on the right foot by going to the gym and losing about 10 pounds, insurrection is afoot; my hip is definitely not hopping.It started the other morning. I woke up, went into the kitchen, made some coffee, and stared into silence waiting for the first few dregs of java hued droplets to drip … and then it happened. Pop went the ‘crunch’. It’s kind of hard to explain, but my left leg sort of felt like it had attempted to migrate to a no-loitering zone. There was a mild pain, nothing to shout about, but something was definitely off. The coffee began to percolate and off I hobbled to a nook in the wall to brace myself for … well, dislocation I had imagined. So for the last week or so, I’ve felt like an old dog with rickety hips. You know, the ones they usually hook up to wheels before they put them down.

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Doomsday: The Day After Nothing Went POOF

Jay Leonard Schwartz Uncategorized , , , , , , , , ,
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we: For such as we are of, such we be.
– William ShakespeareWell, it seems as if following the warnings of ‘End Times’, we are all still here. In fact, the only things that went ‘POOF’ yesterday were my popcorn maker and Harold Camping’s false prophecy of Judgment Day … again. Yes, he pulled this back in 1994, too. But hey, I guess the media would prefer we not buy into that old saying ‘once a joke, twice a dope’. News ratings were up, twits twittered and tweeted their brains out on Twitter, and all in all a good time was had by all, except perhaps for the new age Mayans who are still holding out for the apocalypse on Dec. 12, 2012.

Nevertheless, let’s be honest: as you nodded and laughed with the skeptics, how many of you worrywarts with sweaty palms and irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) clenched your butt cheeks together while you feigned smiles and expelled hearty guffaws that would put Santa Clause to shame? Yes, in the comforting isolation of your own homes, how much hand writhing and skin shedding was really going on?
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Doomsday: Wop Bop Baloo Bop A Wop Bam BOOM!

Jay Leonard Schwartz Uncategorized , , , , , , ,
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you’ll never follow me

– The Doors

Hark thee heathens! I’ve been told that this will be my final post, especially since I probably won’t be able to post again until after May 21st, the advent of ‘End Times’. Oh, you haven’t heard? May 21st is Judgement Day. The doomsayers want you to trust that this time they have done the math. OK, but don’t panic because it won’t really be the end of the world, at least not yet; that won’t come for some five months. Yes, the end of the world, and technically speaking the entire universe, will come to an end on October 21st. Mark that day on your caledar for the foremost forecast is for fire, lots of fire… the ‘hell on Earth’ kind.

Now in all honesty, I really don’t want to make light of some folk’s fervent beliefs, but I do have to admit that in terms of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic prophecies a lot of us have been there and done that already. Many a false prophecy has come and gone, and many a bible thumper cum humper has reset his abascus and cancelled his Ebay listings.

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See Me Seeing Through You

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , ,
Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.
–Dr. SeussThe other day I read an article about the efforts of a nudist colony to attract newer and younger members to complement their existing and perhaps sagging aging community. The article quoted some recently joined ‘members’ who squealed excitement at the feeling of being ‘truly free’ as they danced around a maypole of some sorts. ‘Freedom’, as I believe one member expressed in delight, was defined as being able to reveal ones true nature to others. Yes, I imagine that for some, there is a certain amount of bliss, if not pride, that can be derived from the ability to openly and honestly advertise ‘what you see is what you get’. For others no doubt, such freedom, alas, falls … short.

Anyway, ‘the point’ is that this all got me thinking about honesty and openness, and to what extent we think others see us as we really are, assuming we really know who we are. It’s easy to question this latter point, but I think it’s more interesting to fathom just how well people really know us, especially in terms of understanding whether we are transmitting false signals about our personae or whether others are just plain reading us wrongly. As usual, it ultimately leads to exploring the great divide between ‘us’ and ‘them’.

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A Birther In The Rye (and other nonconformist ideations)

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , , , , ,

Light the lamp and fire mellow,
Cabin essence timely hello,
Welcomes the time for a change.
– Cabinessence (Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks)

Uncle Sam used to tempt to us to ‘be all that you can be’, assuming we enlisted in the Army. I’m sure that many a good soldier not only answered this challenge, but met this call to action. Lots of others, however, paid it as much mind as they did the Tidy Bowl man (read: Ty-D-Bol) hustling his product from the blue waters of his commode based rowboat. Nevertheless, a bit of logic would suggest that sometimes you have to separate the message from the messenger.

Why do only a fraction of us actually challenge ourselves to be all that we can be? A better question yet might be why we even aspire to be more than we are. Why aren’t we just content to embrace mediocrity? Why must we be egged on to face and overcome adversity, just to fall back on resting on our laurels?

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Frigging Fructose Festers Fears

Jay Leonard Schwartz Occupy Karma , ,

Warning: The following blog post will make you sick, but if you’re like me, not as sick as you already are.

Let’s begin with the fact that I am an emotional eater. There, I’ve said it. I freely admit that I can eat myself sick and all in the name of stress relief. That’s right. In some twisted way I’ve come to falsely believe that on any given day my habitually eating myself into oblivion will momentarily ease my life’s chronic daily tension. Yes, I know that I can’t stem the tide of life’s indignities with junk food or even health food, but knowing as such has never caused me to muster the energy required to facilitate ‘mind over matter’ (i.e. put that fork down, step away from the table).

As I wedge that last chunky morsel of hot dog bun into my mouth, I realize the sad reality that the orgasmic second of stress release I’m craving is fleeting; it comes and goes and is replaced by that beached whale like bloating feeling in my gut. Lord, where did I ever get the idea that eating brings stress release? As I reach for another slice of key lime pie, I have to wonder if I was born this way, or if somehow I’ve been programmed to behave like this. Genetics? Nature vs. nurture? Or, … just plain old conspiracy.

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A Mess of Ideas Defying Expectations

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , , ,
Hung velvet overtaken me
Dim chandelier awaken me
To a song dissolved in the dawn
The music hall a costly bow
The music all is lost for now
To a muted trumpeter swan
Columnated ruins domino
– Surf’s Up (Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks)I have an idea, but it begs the following questions:

  • Why is it easier to make a mess of some things than to just sort them out in the first place?
  • Why is it harder to achieve greatness than mediocrity?
  • Why is it easier to say ‘no’ than ‘yes’?
  • Why is it easier to go nowhere and do nothing than to set out on an adventure?
  • Why do so many adventures we set out on come up short?
  • Why do things implode with less intensity than they explode?

These are the types of questions equally raised by the hopeful and the hopeless; the dreamers and the depressed. They are part and parcel of the same enigmatic shaded overtones of our existence, and fail to answer what we are supposed to do with it.

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