Among other things, I am realizing today, all over again, that life is meant to be enjoyed. And that is in spite of any and all circumstances, both on an individual level and a societal one. So today, I am putting aside personal tragedy and global upheaval and driving around town with my windows down, my music on blast and my newly pink hair blowing. And I will drum my steering wheel. And sing. The days when you smile are a special gift that balance out the days when you cry, as long as you are able to embrace them.
But that's not what I want to talk about.
I'm working up my courage for another "Things I Found in My Car" column, but frankly I don't think I have the emotional fortitude to face it yet. Cleaning out my car, it's scary. It gives me nightmares. I also have a few other ideas that are not quite fully developed, so it's Random Observation time again.
And there was much rejoicing...
Several things movie-wise that have me very excited are coming up in December. One being "The Hobbit" -- I cannot say how much this excites my nerdy soul. Hobbits. They make me smile. But more than that, nothing makes me happy like an epic tale involving swordfights and the like. Two being the new musical interpretation of Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables" -- all I can say about this is that every time I see the preview, I cry copious tears. The music, it moves me.
I keep a running list on my computer desktop of things I might want to write about in this column. And like all other efforts I make to organize myself, sometimes it ends up confusing me all the more. This is because I think of something that is funny, I type a quick note so I won't forget it, and then ... well, you can see where I'm going with this. I pull it up and I can't remember what the heck I was talking about. Right now, I have an entry on my list that only says one word -- Maynard. That's all. Maynard. Why did I think this was funny? As a name, I think it definitely stands up to any test of awesomeness, so maybe that's it. It's a name I would give to any pet or inanimate object, not necessarily a human being, but it is a fantastic dog name. As in, "Hey, what a cute puppy! What's his name?" "Maynard." You're welcome for the pet naming idea. I also think it would make a great nickname. For anyone.
Here's a mind trip for you -- a list within a list. I know, I know, I'm so metacognitive (yes it's a word, look it up):
That's a cute top!
I really need to trim my cuticles.
How much weight have you lost? You look amazing!
I saw it on Pinterest.
No, I'd better not have any pie.
Aww, poor baby!
This list is way more fun if you imagine each phrase being said by Bruce Willis. Or James Earl Jones. Once again, you're welcome.
Speaking of obituaries (I know we really weren't ... transitions aren't my best thing), I see a lot of them. I type them every day, what with the newspaper job and all. And I have a few questions about why we do things the way we do them, but primary among them is this -- why do we list all the dead person's family members who died before them? What is the point of the paragraph that begins with "he/she was preceded in death by ..."? Is it for identification purposes? Like, maybe you might not know who the person was but you knew their parents or spouses or cousins who are already dead? Or is it to show how well the dead person did, by outliving all those relatives? As in, look at what a winner this guy was, he outlived a whole slew of people! Maybe it's just to honor that person's lineage or something, but isn't an obituary supposed to be in honor of the dead person, and sort of an informative thing? I'm just curious. Somebody please fill me in.
That's pretty much it, folks. I would like to close this string of meaningless drivel by offering a very heartfelt and sincere thank you to everyone out there who reads, offers feedback and basically makes me feel like I'm your friend. The response from all of you to our personal crisis last week was overwhelming and so so heartwarming -- I can't even count all the people who reached out to me by email, snail mail, Facebook, and in person -- and I would just like to hug each and every one of you. Thank you for your support, your prayers, and your participation in mine and The Police's lives. It means a lot, and I can honestly say that in the (almost) two years that this column has existed, my interaction with all of you has been my favorite part. Thank you again. Really. See, now you've made me cry.
Pass the tissue.