Gonna try and crank something out here in the space of about 10 minutes because I’m crazy with the busy and I have a lunch thing at 1 with a friend, hopefully somewhere outside and near a plant store because I want to put something on my office windowsill. I miss my plants. I had to leave them all behind when I moved to the mean streets. Heh. Anyway, I had another moment where I got right with something: I do not like to be around people who force the meanness out of me. I don’t enjoy calling people out and bursting their bubbles. I like to let people swim in the warmth of their emotional and mental safety nets. But there are people who just force your hand sometimes and I think the only responsible thing to do is to avoid too much contact with them. My pops puts it in a succinct way: “Some people just like to fight, although they might call it ‘compete’. If you have business to conduct with them, you do it quickly. The key is limiting their influence.”
So, things, as usual…
I’ve been thinking about this notion of choice, particularly how it relates to the argument for pro-choice and I think I have something figured out that, unless someone offers better information, is pretty well where I stand: if it’s your choice, then asking someone to provide information to you to convince you to make a decision one way or another is disingenuous. It is YOUR choice. (If that’s where you come down on it.) So, asking for input is just manipulation — I would think as a way to levy control, as is usually the case with manipulation — and that’s a pretty distasteful and selfish game to play when trying to decide whether or not to bring life into the world. Just a thought.
The Trotter sent this to me yesterday and I think it’s so funny that the king of whining is talking about how people are whining. Hey Bill, remove the beam from your eye man because:
I made these last night because I had all the ingredients on hand — including the Tequila, because that is how I roll. I hadn’t made these in at least a year and Good Lord the salsa…
I’ve been thinking about old Ty Cobb because baseball is upon us and the man gets a nasty rep, likely deserved, but he was pretty much the greatest to ever play the game (no disrespect intended toward Roy Hobbs.) At the tail end of college, Tommy Lee Jones, the actor, was in Athens, Ga. filming the life story of the man and he happened to walk past a now-defunct coffee shop — which you can still see here on the corner of Broad and Jackson — and he saw me sitting there studying some Shakespeare and began to engage me in conversation. He said he had studied some Shakespeare in his day (yeah, at Harvard where he got a degree in English and played football. Sigh) so we had a nice little late Spring chat. Here’s the deal — he was dressed in character. So I feel like I met Ty Cobb. I’ve never seen that movie though. I think I will this weekend.
Your music. Dammit I love this song. It gets me primed for some happy hour-ing later with some folks downtown. Either The Hamilton or Penn Quarter. Come see us.