FISH AND FAMILY

So I would like to begin this blog with this very important warning: I love my family. (Uh oh, that sounds like something bad is about to come, right?) They are some of the most loyal individuals I am ever going to have the privelage to have in my life. (Uh oh, this must be really bad.) They would do anything for you, no matter how they feel towards you at the time. (Uh-oh, what did these people do?)

I have a very important saying that I have created, that at least in my family is the truth: "Family is the closest thing to unconditional love you are ever going to find in a human being." Now what you consider to be your "family" will change that statement as traditional families aren't as common as they once were.....unless you are a member of the O'Roark/Roark household.

This past weekend I went to a family reunion in Dallas, Texas. Every single member of my immediate and extended family was there (minus one aunt who couldn't make it for whatever reasons.) I had every single cousin on that side of the family (there are ten of us, and only one is a girl.) I had every single one of my dad's brothers and sisters (there are six of them)....are you up to count that is 16 people. WAIT!!!! Four of those brothers and sisters are married (and my brother)....ADD 5....21 people! And who could go to a family renunion if the matriarch and patriarch weren't there. Got to love those grandparents! 23 people! Are we done yet? Oh now, my grandmother has two living brothers and sisters. 25 people! One of those has a child with a husband and two kids. 29 people! And still yet one of those brothers and sisters is married. 30 people! Yep, 30 people all staying at a bed and breakfast (with Hitler as the bed and breakfast owner....but that's a blog on it's own) not a hotel. That means that all of us were in walking distance of each other, and there was almost no time to have alone. Smell trouble? Because there was trouble.

Which brings to another saying an uncle once told me..."After three days, fish and family start to stink."

There was fighting and arguing (notice I separated those two words) and there was bitching about this and that and the other. There was people trying to get people's goat, and people not trying and yet succeeding nonetheless. Yet through it all I noticed something. I am the oldest grandchild in my family (on both sides). I noticed that everybody younger than me was getting along and pretty well behaved. We were having the time of our lives, and smiling and laughing and just all around enjoying the company. It seems all those older than us (well, the middle generation; the older generation were nice, quiet and reserved) were just up for arguing ad nauseum. It was insane! I think I figured out why.

All of my cousins have things we do not tell the older generations as they come from a time when a lot of things are just wrong (no way to look at it, no angle to try to maneuver to). There is no acceptance of things, just plain wrong. However, my cousins and myself and brother all have no real secrets from each other. (Secrets seems like such a strong word, but those little things that your family really doesn't know about you, and they don't want to know.) All of those surface things that we are told are "wrong" are not hidden from the other cousins. We may not speak all the time, but I know that we can all be ourselves around each other. I think that is not what my family is missing, I think that is what most families are missing. Communication.

There is no communication. And the odd thing is is that nobody in the family (or any family for that matter) has true secrets. Everyone knows them, but if someone finds them "wrong" instead of talking about them, they choose to pretend it doesn't exist, allowing the "secrets" to just fester. So here is the dilemma, becasue nobody speaks about them and yet everyone knows about them, here is what happens: 1) Nobody talks about it. Which leads to 2) A family member allowing themselves to create whatever scenario about that person they want to in their mind, whether true or false (as they won't speak about it). Which leads to 3) A sense of anger developing for that family member because you believe your created scenarios to be true. Which leads to 4) The anger going from internal to external. Which leads to 5) Yelling. Which leads to 6) People yelling back. Which leads to 7) Pushing. Which leads to 8) Violence. Which if you are not careful can lead to 9) the breakdown of a family that at one time was so loyal and dependable.

Communication is always the key. I don't know too many people who would disagree with that statement. However, I have seen what happens when no one communicates. I saw this past weekend a difference in generations. I see what happens. My parents' generation come from the world of "if you don't speak about it, than it is better not to think about." Whereas myself and generations below me are clearly part of a "we may not agree with each other but I say we discuss it all and just talk it through."

You know I love my family (and that is not me convincing anyone, but just a statement of fact.) This past weekend proved to me just how important they are to me in my life. They formed me and created me in a lot of ways that nobody can take away. My eyes, my nose, my sense of humor, etc. However, sometimes I look at the world and I see the generation below me just preparing to ruin the world. But then I look at the generation above me and I see how much my generation has shaped and improved the world. Maybe that is what the generation below me is doing, and I have to be prepared to face that.

The fact of the matter is this. Fish and family do start to stink after three days. However, let's face it, just like fish, you need a dose every once in a while. It's good for the heart.

TENNIS SHOES AND TELEPHONE WIRES

So one of my many jobs at Ruth Eckerd Hall is to go into low income schools and work with teachers by teaching part of their curriculum but doing it by coming at the material in a more artistic way. I tend to focus more on the writing of poetry. Well one of the things we do is thing style called a box poem, which helps the kids write a poem without them even having a clue they are doing it until the end. Well, I do this style of poem with them based on landmarks that are from certain continents that they are studying in 3rd Grade.

However, the trick of the poem is that you have to explain what landmarks are to these kids. Now most of these kids do not see beyond the 6 block radius of their worlds. Landmarks that we are going to be talking about are simply pictures in books. That is all. I live 10 minutes from the beach, and many of these kids have never even seen a beach....you would think I would be joking, but I got bad news, these kids exist. Very few have any idea how close they even are to the beach.

So landmarks come up and are explained, and once they can grasp the concept, you ask for them to provide landmarks they have in their head. And you get the standard replies: Statue of Liberty, Eiffel Tower (yes the kids who have never been to the beach in their back yard, know the Eiffel Tower), Mt. Rushmore, Grand Canyon, Great Wall of China. Until one little boy raises his hand to be heard, he is so proud of his landmark, "a piece that marks a piece of the world, that lots of people visit.")

He proudly says, "Mr. Jared! I have a landmark! Tennis shoes that have been tied together and thrown over a telephone wire." The class erupts into applause, and as he is a joke-ster in the group, he isn't really bothered by it. I am not so sure that he is aware that it was funny, but he laughs right along with them....including me. At first glance, this exchange is very funny, because how do you let a third grader know that this is a landmark, but not really the one i am looking for.

I would like to take this time out that anyone who doesn't know, tied shoes thrown over telephone wires is an indication that drugs are being sold in the area. Though I don't know that this kid knows this exact thing, it is still very funny that he connects that to a landmark.

I laughed for a good three minutes, without stopping. I couldn't breathe, the teacher had to take over for a minute because I could not catch the wind in my breath. She was laughing as well, but I found it absolutely hysterical. Yet again another very interesting way a 3rd Grader takes a question. Kids are awesome.

But even when the laughter subsides, something sad tends to come to the surface. Clearly the kid has seen this and has connected with a landmark of some kind. This is the world he comes from...or one he lives around. This is a fantastic kid, and he really is quite a wonderful and funny student. However, you think of them in 3rd Grade and you go, "You have to get them now. Teach them at this age."

This whole school is filled with wonderful, amazing, and astonishing kids who come from worlds that I can only imagine. I mean my mom and dad were on food stamps for a little bit of time when I was a pre-teen. I mean we had it tough, but I didn't realize that due to great grandparents, I was never really in any grave danger. I didn't live in a bad area (a working class area, but never a bad area), I never was confronted with drugs until I got out of high school, and the world I lived in I thought was pretty annoying, but in reality there was no wolves knocking at my door trying to blow down anything in my well-developed brick house...(hey, who knew that that story had a meaning...and my dad is a bricklayer...double meaning).

I see the world that these kids I work with grow up in and all I can do is just hope that they learn in their youth to fight it and to get out of it. They are all so capable. Some of them are so incredibly smart. Some of them, sadly, you can see the doubt and anger of their world starting to seep in.

Politics be damned. I believe a song I know put it best, the only things you really leave behind in this world are "children and art." Why are we not putting our money in the future of the world?

PROJECT: SHATTERED SILENCE

Project: Shattered Silence is a group of teenagers that I created last year to amazing success. Through this group we write a play about differences and how they make us special. The end of the year performance last year was sold out and standing room only. Well, I was given a stay for another year, to let the group grow and try a different topic. The group expanded from 17 to 36 people.

Today marked the day when we were going to talk about the topic. Well, due to some huge event (IRON MAN) that was going on in Tampa Bay today there was only 14 that could brave the traffic to come. I wouldn't change what I learned today.

These are all teenagers who are being very brave and opening up their lives and stories in hopes that in turn it is going to help others. We discussed turning points in lives....and then the waterworks poured forth. I couldn't believe what i was hearing...such truth, told in a way that wasn't about a bunch of teenagers that just wanted to be heard....they wanted share.

And share they did....about their personal ideas about family, a lost father, cancer, dude ranches, the time they realized they can understand others, the day they understood what heartbreak really looks like, or maybe there was no turning point in their life that they could point to, or maybe their mother believes their life was saved by freeing fish in the ocean.

I learned something powerful today, and that is that no matter who you are, your story deserves to be told. I saw that everyone has an amazing story! Not a good story! Not an okay story! They have an amazing story! They aren't all about big gigantic life changing moments, but sometimes they are about how I got picked on cause people thought I carried my books "like a girl" in the crook of my arm. And when I overheard that I officially carried them to my side, more "like a boy would carry them." And that began my conforming moment.

It was beautiful in it's honesty. Talking and sharing....giving and taking...yin and yang...ebb and flow.....this is how beautiful honesty of the world gets shared.

TRUTH IS

So this morning I woke up to something quite extraordinary. You know the past 24 hours were a bit of an emotional drain on me in a very odd way. It was a time when I found out that someone I respect very highly (and still do) wasn't really respecting what I have put so much time into for the past year or two. That is a hard thing to come to grips with. And yet, this morning, I wake up to my lovely social connection site (FACEBOOK...yep I'm a lover) and I open my email and what do I see....an email from a former student of mine.

Inside the email it was a link to a page of someone at her school (an older teenager) who is doing something to try and make the world a better place. It was kids with postets on their palms and pushing them at the camera. The student with the postet was in the background, sometimes clear and sometimes blurry. You could tell that it was done by a high school student, but I was so amazed that someone was trying so hard to make a difference (and as this student grows older and gets stronger in themselves and what they are doing, will absolutely make a bigger than a school difference.) In the email my former student said to me that she came across this kid in her school who was doing this and it made her think of me immediately and she shared with me the link...It is called TRUTH IS...(See below)

Well, let me tell you that when I read it something popped into my head. I am doing something right! If a student is thinking of me when some teenager is doing something powerful for themselves, well let me tell you that makes me smile. That means that no matter what other people may think, I am doing something right. I have not only motivated kids to try something different, but when someone they know is doing something powerful and impactful, these students are thinking of me (even when they are not my "students" anymore).

That is when I realized something that we all know inside. You have to not let anyone else dictate what you feel about yourself and what you are doing. Sure we say it all the time to people who are going through something similar, but when it is ourselves going through it, well it isn't always the first bit of advice we go to. Sure we will tell others that we believe it and that we are over it because not everyone will like us, but inside it does hurt a bit. Well, this student sent this message at the perfect time.

The truth is, that what we always knew is the truth. Not everyone will like you, but when someone makes an impact on your life, then you need to tell them. You never know what they are going through or what un-special feeling they are having inside at the moment.

The truth is, that for every person who doesn't respect you there is another one who does respect you.

The truth is, one person can make a difference....but you have to actually speak up and tell the person who made one in you.

The truth is, you don't really ever know the reach you have made. So always believe in what you do.

The truth is, we always have great advice to give when other people are going through something. Now we have to believe it when we hear it or go through it.

The truth is, I will doubt myself again. I will feel left out again.

The truth is, I will feel included again. I will no what I'm doing is right again.

The truth is, you should see what teenagers really have the power to do...
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=324632&id=633649007

Thanks, Sara.

GRANDMA'S BOOK

So something happened tonight that is hard to put into words...especially when your blogs are usually about thought you are having randomly. I don't really like sharing emotions through an electronic setting. It just feels so distant, but tonight is clearly going to have to be a lesson to learn in my corner. What do you do when someone you respect very much, is actually doesn't really respect you?

I work in a place where art is of a main concern, and I deal with an art form, that although is more my second favorite form of theater, is one that I'm good at, and is actually the more popular art form. I also have a degree in public relations, so I know how to get people into the seats. But it hurts your heart when you find out that others may not like that you get that much attention. See this all sounds so high school as I am typing it, which is making me think that this is all so high school. So why bother to keep going? So I won't...

But I will talk about jealousy. What a stupid thing to feel most of the times (I'm a firm believer that all emotions have their place in this world.) But most of the time jealousy is just a stupid emotion to feel, because it doesn't lead anywhere. All jealousy does is leads to anger, and the type of anger that isn't a motivating kind.

I have never been the type of person to share my feelings freely. In fact, at first glance people may think of me as just someone who is a bit scary. When they get to know me they find a lot of hidden layers, but I have to say that I'm quite a sentimental person. I respect people so much for what they can do that I cannot, and I'm not the jealous kind. (Oh, my faults come in very different colored packages though....I'm no angel!) However, I don't understand jealousy. I have felt it before, of course, but I discovered really early that it doesn't lead anywhere. You just end up staying in the same place.

Anger can be such a strong motivating force and breeding ground for creativity, but the form of anger that is attached to jealousy is so stagnant. I can't afford myself that time to stay there. Proudly I am 31, but 32 is coming right around the corner (NOT 30!!!!) so I can't be bothered to stay in one emotional state for such a long period of time.

Isn't staying still how generation gaps happen? One generation gets jealous of another generation so they just stay still until the "younger" generation long surpasses them, and then the "older" generation has to catch up. I deal with teenagers all the time, if you look (and you don't have to look too closely) you can actually see the worlds tearing apart at the seams. It is sad.

I had a grandmother who may have passed away at 88, but she was not 88 at all. She knew what she was. There is a great quote I heard on a blog I read of a great friend of mine and she said, in order to be positive you have to accept the reality. The reality my grandmother understood is that she was not 22 anymore, or 33, or 44, or 55, or 66, or 77....she was 88. She understood that and than accepted that fact. Then she proceeded to act like "the young" were supposed to. She was loved by all ages. She never got jealous of people, she was happy for everyone who succeeded, or felt like they succeeded. She was amazing, remarkable and special, and maybe i should take out a chapter of her book.

Jealousy is for the birds...who has the time. Jealousy makes us stand still, and time isn't waiting around for the jealous to catch up....moving on.

POETIC MEMOIRS

I am sitting at Panera Bread right now with my laptop and a stack of papers so high that Wilt Chamberlain would stand on his tippy-toes just to see over them. Something powerful happened to me today, and I don't know where it came from. I have been lamenting my dry spell lately. Everyone says that you need to be sad in order to write. Well, I am not so sure that I would agree with that. You see I grabbed my stack of papers that are filled with ideas on napkins and the openings to poems and just older poems that I just seemed to have forgotten that I ever wrote. Well, some of those poems were from the "sad days." Boy, did I have a few of those. I don't know if maybe I wasn't great at expressing myself, but I was just appalled by those poems. If they were written by somebody else, I probably would have told the poet to "get over it." Hahahaha, but alas, they were me. So, "Jared, get over it!" Nope, instead my motivational force isn't sadness, it is motivation. Whenever I feel like I can take over the world I start getting ideas that I jot down.

You know, when I got back from the gym today I just thought that I would lay on the bed and maybe read. Then I said, you know what I am going to organize my book of work, and then I remembered I had a free smoothie on my Panera card (yes, I have one, don't judge). I came right on up here to the great Panera Bread and sat down and all of a sudden facebook wasn't calling me (for once) what was calling me was my stack of papers. My pages that reminded me of my past, and where I was at a certain point in my life.....these poems are my memoirs. These poems and these ideas have dates attached. I never thought until today that these writings are the history of my life. They show me that I am human, I have written some horrible shit, and I have written some amazing stuff.

I may not be the best, or the most forward thinking individual who ever lived, but I have something to say (and apparently judging from the folder of ideas, a lot that I have left to say that I never bothered to say.) I am someone powerful, and I can be proud of all that I am, and all that I am going to become...whatever that may be.

Maybe the point I am trying to make isn't what I care about. I spend so much time trying to make a point to other people that I stop and I go, "You know what I write for me. I write to make the point to myself." That is who I am. I talk out loud so that I can make sense of what is in my brain. And when my voice is gone, I write to make sense of my brain.

Yes, my dear friend is right in what he once said...."Poetry (or in any writing) isn't to make sense to the reader, is for me to make sense of myself."

DIFFERENT HEIGHTS

Project: Shattered Silence is a group that I started last year with 17 teenagers from all over the Tampa Bay area. The group was designed to help show that the arts are not about being seen the arts are about making sure your message is heard. It was more successful than I could have ever imagined, with two sold out performances, and a possiblity to try and take the show to New York an Off-Broadway. It was exciting on many levels. Therefore, after last year, I was asked to do the project again. This time when I showed up on the first day I was presented with 40 teenagers that were all asking to be a part of this project. I never would have imagined that in one year it would have gained that much steam. However, when the time came to choose the topic and message for this year's show, the same thing started to happen....discussion.

This was the most powerful day of last year's project and this year proved no different. I was in there watching 40 teenagers discuss so vividly, clearly, and no so-clearly in a respectful manner religion, heroes, scolisosis, being gay, and so on. Did they all agree? Absolutely not! They were not all on the same page, and truth be told life is going to change the opinions of most of them. They were speaking from their perspective of the right now. Yet, they were stating their opinions and listening to the others who opposed them in a respectful manner. And they responded to what was being said, so therefore they were listening too. I remain impressed by their inability to not see eye-to-eye, and yet their ability to remain calm when that happens.

Then I thought, this world isn't meant for us to see eye-to-eye. Hell, we are all different heights. We all stand at different levels, even physically....sometimes I can't see eye-to-eye because that is the way my body stands. So if I can't expect to do it physically why would I expect our minds to be able to do it. I mean I don't choose my friends on if I can look at them directly in the eye, why would I choose them based on if our opinions see eye-to-eye. As a matter of my opinion, if we all saw eye-to-eye and agreed all the time how boring of a world this would become. I don't want everyone to agree, what I do want is for people to respectfully acknowledge opinions contrary to their own.

Arguments are an interesting thing, people always tend to get violently involved in them sometimes. We try to yell our point, and talk over each other (myself included at times) in order to get the message into people's heads. Does that ever work in the moment? No it doesn't work ever!

Here is what I believe, I believe that when our minds are changed during an argument it is never over the course of the argument that our point of view is changed. If our minds somehow go through an overhaul at some point, chances are good that it is always after the argument has been completed. That is the time to self-reflect on what was said in the moment. We have allowed ourselves the time to reflect on how we said things, how we acted, or reacted to certain things said.

What is going on with this world when I can get 40 teenagers to get together and calmly acknowledge their differences in opinions, and yet adults are yelling all over this country? How does that happen? How can I get kids who "aren't supposed to know adult things" talk about abortion, or gay rights, politics, or religion.......adults cant even do that and they "are supposed to know about adult things."

Every time I turn around someone is getting on to this younger generation for something they did or said, or didn't do or didn't say.....well here is what people in America are missing.....QUIT TALKING AND START LISTENING!!!! People want to talk. People in America want to talk and be heard by politicians, not be talked to them. Teenagers want to talk and be heard by adults, not listen to their lectures about what they should be doing. Workers want to talk and be heard by administration, and not just told what must be done first. When are people going to realize that we are more apt to be paid attention to when we are paying attention?

So here is my lesson, learn from the teenagers, they are ready to talk....I got news for you...they have started talking already....you listening? If not, be prepared to be left behind....they end up taking over.

WEATHERED GRAVESTONES

So about a week ago I was in Boston, Mass. This would be my first time ever visiting the city. So I had to do the tourist-y stuff. I needed to see Fenway (well, maybe next time.) I had to see the Cheers restaurant (and would you believe that everybody knew my name?) I wanted to walk the freedom trail (a bit ambitious, but we did walk a lot of it.) I wanted to see the Maparium (hello, I was inside of a three-story glass globe.) And I wanted to see the gravesite of Paul Revere. HOLY ONE IF BY LAND AND TWO IF BY SEA BATMAN! This got me.

His gravesite sits among a sea of tombstones, and you have to search pretty hard for it. You would think it would be a huge tombstone stating who this is and that he is buried in this spot. It is a tiny tombstone. In fact, you would have no idea that anyone of any importance was lying in this spot. Just a bevy of pebbles surrounding a smoothed over rock with two words carved on it…Paul Revere.

I will gladly take this moment to come clean with my unhealthy obsession with cemeteries. I have no idea why I like them (well I like them during the day time.) I just do. I think cemeteries are beautiful. Maybe because despite that we think they may be grim, it is a place where people go to honor ones that have died. I also like the juxtaposition of people who go there realizing that we have to honor life, but we do this by recognizing death. I also just loved the fact that people who have passed on can announce that they were here - that they had a place in this world.

However, this cemetery in Boston showed me something completely different. There were tombstones that were clearly marked in the 16 or 1700’s. I was astounded that I was looking at something from that time period. (Let’s face it you don’t get a lot of that in many parts of this country.) However, as I was going in and out of the headstone rows (and irritating a few people as to how someone can take that many pictures of a cemetery) I noticed something strange…the gravestones had been weathered (as things tend to do when being left outside for 300 years.) However, something struck me on this particular day.

You see the headstones only had small amounts of information on them. On the newer ones (and by newer I mean like 1800’s) you could make out the name and the year they died, and if you squinted you could also make out their quote they left to be remembered by. However, for most of the gravestones, you couldn’t make out a single thing. They had been beaten by rain, and snow, and sleet, and wind. Time had showed these gravestones who the boss was. Time had washed away any indication of what was there. All that remained was a round headstone marking that underneath this rock is…was a body.

This got me to thinking about life (as for me that is what gravesites tend to do.) Eventually we all pass on. Eventually Time will show all of us who is the master. We are forgotten. In time. Even something as powerful as a rock or stone gets weathered down to a smooth surface. All that remains is a rock that shows that someone did exist on this earth.

I don’t say this to be macabre or to be negative, because I don’t think of it as a negative. I think it is a very positive thing at which to look. Life is going by, we are getting older with every passing day. Time is already starting to show us that it is going to move on (maybe the only thing that moves on despite all human efforts.) Why waste that time? We may want to be remembered (we all do) but why spend all of that life just trying to be remembered. Why not just do it because we believe personally in what we are doing. Stand up for things. Fight for a better world. Fight for what you believe in. Who knows maybe some of these empty gravesites are soldiers who fought for what they believed in? I don’t know. Soldiers who did what they had to do for the good of what they believed in. They were interested in the present and fought for a future where their names wouldn’t be remembered. That is such a powerful thought to me. That someone would fight for a greater good and not just to be remembered.

Or maybe these gravestones are mothers or daughters who stood behind while their fathers and husbands went to war to make sure that life was as good as it could be for their children. Once again, fighting in the present for a future they didn’t know about and not to be remembered. I think what I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t matter if you are remembered, what matters is that while you have that time, before Time takes it from you, maybe you should go off and do everything that you believe in…whether that is fighting for a cause, or seeing Europe.

I don’t know if there is only one life or not. I like to think there is, but truth be told, only certain people can tell you for a fact if that is the case, and they ain’t talking.

I guess the lesson I am choosing to learn from weathered gravestones is that life is short, Time marches on and forgets everyone, so make the most of the seconds you have.

FEATHERS IN THE GRASS

So after wasting getting up at 5:15 and "wasting" an hour and a half on the internet i decided to spend no more time stressing over the oil spill for once, and take an hour at the gym to send my energies elsewhere for a minute. As I was walking to the gym I noticed something, there was this huge gorgeous feather just lying on the grass. It also had freshly fallen from a bird, you could tell by how clean it was and untouched.

This feather got me thinking about myself when I was a child and how if I ever saw a feather on the grass i would have picked it up in a heartbeat. It wouldn't have mattered if it was freshly removed or not. And then I would play with that feather, and keep it in my room as if it was the most precious object I have ever found. (It was my gold. It was my oil. It was my Dolce & Gabana cologne. Hello?)

This morning I walked over to pick it up, but then thought, "What is the point in picking up the feather? What would I even do with it?" And then I continued my walk to the gym. It was on the rest of the walk that I thought, "Why wouldn't I pick it up? If I was a child that feather most assuredly would not still be there even if I was heading to the zoo or an amusement park. Nothing would have stopped me from picking up that feather."

What happens to us as we get older that we start forgetting those amazing childhood moments? I am sure that if I sat and contemplated it I could come up with so many more amazing and interesting ways to keep and preserve that feather than a six-year-old could. However, I decided I didn't want to use my brain that way anymore. I believe, at this moment while I am typing this, what an awful decision that was to just leave that feather on the grass.

A feather is special. A feather to me symbolizes strength, wisdom, flight, heights, elegance, beauty, and perseverance. That is what a feather indicates if I sit and dream about it. However, I decided to disregard all of that beauty and pass up the feather. I don't know if a six-year-old would have thought of any of those things, and yet they would respect that feather more than this 30-ahem-something would. Maybe a six-year-old knows all along how beautiful and magical a feather can be. Maybe the six-year-old just doesn't have the words yet to express the intelligence they possess.

So I want to make a vow (and who cares that it took me all these words to say this), but I will never pass up another feather on the grass again. I am going to respect that what that is on the grass is not just a feather, but a bit of childhood brilliance. I don't think that childhood brilliance should be left sitting on the grass.

ALICE CARTER - CALL THEM BY NAME

So not to start this blog off on a depressing note, but last night someone who is very dear to me in my life passed away from cancer. Although I have not spoken to this woman in probably five years (and not for any reason) she has been a staple on my life. She has been in my life since I was a child growing up in Little Rock, Arkansas.

When I first heard about what happened (through a text from my mother) I immediately told my mom that I am moved to write a blog about it. However, I told my mother that I wouldn't mention her by name. I began to think about that that statement. I have to mention her by name.

THIS WOMAN WAS ALICE CARTER - AND SHE WAS REMARKABLE!!!

Why wouldn't I mention her by name? Alice Carter is a woman who is such an important part of my childhood memories. Alice Carter gave me my very first job ever (outside of my father). I remember rolling papers for the newspaper route that she had. I remember Alice Carter ordering pizzas and sodas, and my brother and I (along with all of her kids) staying up to roll papers, eat pizza, and play video games. I even remember the apartment she lived in before she moved out of the city into a fancy trailer outside the city limits. I remember going over to see her before moving to Florida, and I remember advancing from video games to a board game. (Although I don't remember which one.)

Alice Carter always wore a bandanna, I remember that. Alice Carter always was the nicest person and cared for people, but she was especially kind to my brother and I. I remember that as the names from people from my childhood come and go, I remember the name Alice Carter. I remember all of her kids, even though we are more facebook buddies than actual day-to-day friends (I know you are reading this Alicia and Michelle...thanks for reading.) I remember that Alice Carter and her kids and I always had a good time when we were together, even though no money was spent.

I figure this...I HAVE to mention her name. Most of you guys reading this don't even know who Alice Carter is, maybe you never will. But I know that I have memories attached with Alice Carter that will be lost forever if I don't mention them. I know that the name Alice Carter will be lost if I don't tell you her name and who she was. I know that the spirit of Alice Carter (her energy, her drive, her kindness, her generosity) will only live on if I explain how wonderful it was?

I think the time has come to mention people by name. The people that are in our memories that connect with great and good thoughts should be mentioned by their given name. That is how we identify them. That is what I think we all should do; if we want them to be lost, then don't even talk about them. However, if we want to tell others about the great nostalgia they bring up (or if we just want to keep them as a forefront in our minds) then we need to mention these special people by their name.

I won't hide Alice Carter as a blog. She is special to me and will now and always be special to me. My childhood cannot be replaced, and she was part of making mine a memorable one. Thank you Alice Carter; Love you and miss you.

FIREWORK SPECTACLE

The other night I was at the Grand Floridian Hotel (Resort, whatever) in Disneyworld (land, whatever) as Scott's best friend from Maine was in town, and after an aggressive conversation Scott and I agreed to make the trek back up to Orlando to see her and her family again on a Tuesday night, no less (sorry to my job if I appeared less then my best the next day.)

As we arrived we realized that we came just in time to see the nightly firework spectacle that occurs in front of Cinderella's castle. Of course it is a ways a way from the resort, but you can see it brilliantly in the night sky. There were ten kids of different ages standing right by the water of the resort watching these amazing fireworks from the distance. Here's the thing about those ten kids - five of them were under the age of ten, and the other five were over the age of twenty-five.

I don't think this sudden diminishing age gap was the "magic of Disney" or because we were at the "happiest place on earth." I believe the true magic was simply just the fireworks.

There is power in the simplistic magic of fireworks that makes the loudest kids stand in awe and helps adults forget that they are not children. Is it the noise? Is it the colors? Is it the grandeur? Who cares?

For that brief moment there were no distractions for anyone. There were no business prospects. No Wii Nintendo. No chores. No bad feelings. There was just ten kids (and five of them would never be classified as kids away from fireworks) staring with inspiring awe at the exploding colors.

We, as a society, tend to separate ourselves physically every day from the world. With every invention created to bring the world closer together we all get further apart. Every second we spend on the computer is a second we don't spend with our friends or our family. Every time we plop ourselves down to watch television we allow that generational gap to grow ever wider.

We are always trying to be new and fresh, and yet no matter what the old is always what astounds us. Everyone out there with an ipod ever foamed at the mouth when someone else has an ipod? Anyone with a computer ever had time stop when you saw your friends computer? Anyone with a television ever actually faint when you see someone else's television? And even if you walked in the room and you were in awe at the television, did everyone else in the room just stop too, or was it just one person? Chances are good that it was just you.

Fireworks, sunsets, hot air balloons, alligators in the wild, etc....these are the things that makes everyone stop and watch. These are the things that remind us that our age is not what is keeping us apart from one another. We are the biggest part at keeping us apart. A five year-old and an adult are both mouth watering when they look up and see a hot air balloon or a person parachuting from the sky. An 80 year-old and a 20 year-old can stop and stare at the beauty of sunsets. A five year-old and a fifteen year-old are all together astounded at the alligator that lies on the bank of the river. And there is not a single age in the world that doesn't see fireworks in the sky and stop and take in the beauty they bring to enhance the night sky.

So maybe instead of completely engrossing ourselves in these "wonders of technology" to bring the world closer together (and I won't totally put down technology as it does absolutely serve its purpose...I love my ipod more than anything) maybe we should see if we can "stop time" and just see how far back we can go to see what brought everyone in the world closer together. What in the world makes the old and the young all meet in the middle?

And to me that night in Orlando, it wasn't a mouse or a roller coaster or an amazing arcade room...it was the night being lit up with the firework spectacle.

THE TURTLE AND THE TOTEM POLE

So today I was pulling up to my apartment complex when I saw something I had to shake my head to realize that what I was seeing wasn't just a vision. I saw the maintenance man at the apartment complex kicking a turtle that was in a parking space that nobody was in (and nobody wanted it either.) This was not a man who was nudging a turtle to get on the grass either. This man was kicking the turtle. I parked my car and by the time I got out of it (my voice ready to yell at this human being) he had got in his golf cart and gone. I also though, man if I did say anything he may have just retaliated by killing the turtle. I then proceeded to pick up the turtle and put it by the lake in the middle of the complex (where it most likely came from). His shell had been completely scratched up and I don't know if it could walk. I am hoping when I walk by this afternoon that it will be gone swimming in the water.

I was so angry. It's not like this man was protecting his life....FROM A TURTLE!!!! This was not an animal that attacks people. It doesn't hurt people. If the maintenance man was a fish or a bug then maybe he would have a case. I was so disgusted, I saw nothing but the color red. I had to put myself in that turtle's shoes (and yes, I know that sounds odd), but remember a turtle isn't a leaf or a tree, this animal can feel pain. It feels a cut. And this is not a bird or a dog, when it is being attacked or hurt can fight back easily. This is not an animal that has a distinct sound that it can let out to get help from anyone hearing. This is a simple turtle.

I called the apartment complex and gave the description of the man. I even told them that it was a maintenance man and that he was in a golf cart (how many can they have 2?) I am not up for getting anyone fired, but I'll be damned if I am going to sit by and allow someone to attack a helpless animal in such a manner. They were outraged, and couldn't believe this happened, and she seemed so furious I am sure they are going to take care of it.

However, this brought something up in my head. I am not going to go into all the things that I think that are wrong in this world. (You wouldn't stay reading this for that long.) However, I think I know why nothing is happening for the better in this country. We, as the people who think they are at the bottom of the totem pole, aren't angry enough. We are angry enough to complain. We are angry enough to feel the emotion. But when it comes to speaking up and joining together and using our voice, we just aren't quite that angry.

This may be an odd analogy but speaking up for that turtle is like speaking up for anyone who is being unjustly beaten. (And we all know people like that weather it is physical or figuratively by society or governments or whatever.) How many times do we use the voice we have. It is so funny, cause a president and Congress and everyone who is in the power of a position can have use all that power that that position will allot them. However, one person comes by and says something vicious about them (whether true or not) then how much power do they have then? Sometimes those words go away, but a lot of the time those words linger.

We are not useless people who go to work every single day and come home every single night, and watch our shows before going to bed. We have the most powerful thing in the world, WE HAVE A VOICE!!!! And that voice only gets used if we allow that anger to shout it forth. No one uses their voice effectively when they are happy or sad. That voice is used to its fullest power when we are angry. Anger is a powerful emotion.

However, the only thing that combats anger is fear. Fear fights anger really well, why do you think that a lot of people go through that part of life where they want to go for more, but they don't? Their fear is outweighing their anger (or drive, which is a form of mild anger) to achieve what they are desiring.

So here is what I think. If you are someone out there who has a brain and feels that there are things that are going wrong in this world. And since I know everyone on this entire planet knows or feels when something isn't right, then the time has come to stop waiting for other people to solve the problem for us and get out there and join our voices together to go out there and stop what is being done to human beings here and all over the world.

Listen, are we at the bottom of the totem pole in this society? ABSOLUTELY!!!! No doubt about that, but I would rather be at the bottom than at the top. For if you are at the top and you aren't keeping the people from getting angry, than that bottom part of the pole will rebel against you and walk out from underneath you. Let's face it when that happens than the rest of the pole will collapse to the floor. Now if the top disappears than what happens to the rest of the pole?

Let's face it, the bottom of the totem pole has way more power than the top? So why not use it to our advantage?

THE COUNTRY IS KILLING US WITH SLOW JAZZ

So this morning I spent a good majority of my time on the telephone. At first I called UPS who sent me to the Best Buy who sent me to their Best Buy main office. The why to all of this is completely unimportant. In my wild goose chase for my missing computer part I found that two things were the same no matter where I called: 1) I inevitably was going to be getting a fake computer woman (though i don't want to put her down, she was very nice; though not responsive), 2) The companies are getting smart, and if you want to speak to a real person you can no longer just push 0, and 3) During the waiting time they play nothing but slow jazz. Then they wonder why I am so mad when they finally get to me.

I think this country's big businesses are trying to kill us all with slow jazz. They make us wait forever on the phone for every small reason (and I'm still not convinced the employees aren't playing on facebook while they are "going to get a manager"). They make us wait while the nice computer woman (nice cause she never yells back at me when i yell at her) goes through the list of numbers that we have to push (none of which ever seem to match what I am looking for.) They make us wait while they send us to the right department, as we were sent to the wrong department in the first place. Waiting....waiting....waiting...

I'm sick and tired of waiting!!!

So I begin to wonder, how much of our life is spent waiting? Don't expect any wonderful calculations, I didn't do any. But I don't think I have to. I think if you are reading this you know how much of our time is spent waiting for things on the phone. And please raise your hand if you think that this waiting process that they put us through makes us just more angry. I know it's a blog, I can't see you, but something is telling me that I don't need to. You can put your hand down now.

So much time is spent waiting on these frivolous nothing things. (And most of the time we end up hanging up anyway.) And I think life and time is passing us by, when we have so many other things to accomplish. But here lies the Catch-22, we are becoming such an immediate society that we refuse to wait. We are willing to wait (though getting angry) on the phone to complain about the part we didn't get from Best Buy, but when it comes to life lessons or life goals we have lost the power to wait.

I was told the other day that I "want everything so immediately." And I was taken aback (as I usually tend to be when someone wants to take on me, which I love). I realized that that person was right. I have all of these goals and I don't want to wait anymore, so I do what i do with the phone, I hang up. I think most of us are like that, and I definitely think the youth of this country are turning into that. It hurts me.

The world around us is becoming so immediate, yet when it comes to fixing the problems (even something as simple as a part you ordered for your computer) the world is still far behind. When it comes to complaining about something or finding out something that happened to us we want to speak to a real human being (and trust me the UPS guy got some words he shouldn't have had to endure.....including my brilliant line "YOU ARE RIGHT, YOU ARE NOT FED EX AND THAT DOES SUCK.")

It is time to focus on ourselves in a humble way. We have got to realize that WAITING IS IMPORTANT, but it isn't worth waiting for when there is "slow jazz" playing. Waiting is only important when we are going for the gold; when we are trying to achieve our goals the old fashioned way, through hard work and pain. Besides when we do that kind of waiting, it tends to be more swing music then old jazz.

So let's all make a pact (even though we are 14 people reading this blog strong) and when we are waiting and slow jazz is playing, let's hang up. However, when there is pain and excitement and fear and swing music we hear, that means it is all going to be worth the wait.

FADES IN THE BACKGROUND

So I was chatting it up on facebook with a friend of mine whom I haven't talked with in a long time. One of those friends that you always got along with but time and space just got in the way. Well there we were, she and I were gabbing on about our love for Scrabble and how we can't find anyone to play with us anymore as if no time had passed.

As time walked on in the conversation my grandmother's passing came up and my friend brought up her mother and how this past year was the year that marked my friend being alive longer than she knew her mother. I don't know why, but i teared up. I cried (and I am not a crier.) My friend talked about going to Italy because she realized that life is too short and you can't wait around to accomplish your goals. She talked about how her mother's death taught her that lesson. And as I was talking about my grandmother I started realizing how special that woman was cause of how she treated and loved everyone, despite her sharp wit and tongue.

However, this is not a "life-is-short" blog; we all know that lesson. However, as time marches on we talk less and less about our loved ones that have passed; or we stop discussing why the person we are with or why our family is important to us; or we stop mentioning the things that our loved ones did for us (no matter how small.) This is a very dangerous thing to stop talking about.

If we stop bringing these things up from time to time then they begin to fade into the background and just become the pieces of cloth that is on our skin, and they no longer are the threads that binds the cloths together. These are the things that make us whole. The way someone completes us, the lesson we learned when the person passed, or the little thing that someone did that made us go, "that is why i love them." Those are the threads.

For example, take it whenever in life you learned that important life lesson of "life is short" That time when we learned that lesson helped us put into perspective that hose dreams we have for ourselves or the goals of traveling or whatever are slowly losing time. Therefore that lesson is the thread that can sew the dream to the reality.

Or: maybe the person we love is getting on our deepest nerves one day, almost to the point of us just wanting to walk away. That memory of the time they let you sing in the car without asking you to shut up could be thread that holds the walking away to staying together.

We can't stop talking about these important things. These are the moments in life when we had realizations; when something that never made sense before became clear, and if we mention those moments but then begin to walk away from them and lose them out of our vocabulary, then we tend to go back to the way we were before the lesson was learned. What progress have we made when we do that?

So I say that if your grandmother made you realize that goals are to be accomplished or if your special someone put a note of gratitude in your car visor and you understood why you were with that person, or if your dog wanting you to love on him made you realize that simple things are important too, than don't stop talking about it. Mention it. Bring it up. And keep in mind that the friends that roll their eyes at the cheesiness of the conversation are the friends that haven't learned that you have to mention these things, cause these are the things that are the fabric of true happiness.

It's not achieving the goal that is the true joy, it is the moment when you realize you can do it.

BITE THE BULLET

Love. This is the only word in any language that is complicated to understand. I mean it has so many levels (and you're not always happy when you feel it which makes it more confusing.) Love holds a lot of weight, as it should, but I think sometimes it holds too much weight. As a society we assign it a place in the stratosphere. We make love this big thing in the sky that is graced on certain people. We make love this thing that people have to work for. Love is supposed to be a power not a "thing." And the truth of the matter is: EVERYONE DESERVES LOVE!

Love has levels. There is a love of one person to another person. Love of parent to child. Love of friend to friend. Love of person to dog. Love of yourself. Love of a type of clothing. Love of a type of beverage. Love of our favorite curse word. Love of God. Love of religion.

The list of loves is a very long list and it can go on and on and on. However, here is the funny thing: we really are careful about using the word. We never tell people that we love them enough. It is very odd you know. I mean we feel it but we hold it back; we keep it from people as if it is a gold ring they should come and get.

My theory is simple. I don't think that love starts until you bite the bullet and actually say the words. Yes, I know actions speak louder than words, and I would never say that people can't show love by actions, of course they can (a dog is a case and point - or a cat for those of you who love those (but that is another blog)).

Is it uncomfortable to say we love someone? HELL YES IT IS!!! It is extremely hard. If it was easy we would just say the word without any weight attached to it. However, times come when we feel it and we want to say it but we don't cause we think it would just be too weird, or the person we said it to would think we were strange. So much care into what the person woudl think.

I say don't care! Say the word, cause the fact of the matter is this. We can show love all day long and people can see it through our actions, but let's face it, sometimes words are just more powerful. They mean more cause we can all identify with the fact that it took courage to say them (cause it takes courage when WE want to say them.)

So I know this wasn't a deep blog but please take this away from this: BITE THE BULLET AND JUST TELL THE ONES YOU LOVE THAT YOU LOVE THEM!!! (And mean it, cause we always know.)

HOLES IN OUR SYSTEM

So there is one thing about this blog I make an effort to refrain from discussing; my personal life. This is supposed to be a blog based on my ideas from my experiences. However, the recent experience I have had cannot pull the personal life from my thoughts at all.

I rang in the New Year with a bit of a heartbreak, the death of my first grandparent. I could go on and on about her, but that is not what this blog entry is about. However, I must say something about her and I can tell you that this woman knew how to believe in something and knew how to make people feel like they were not above or below her if they didn't agree. That is a remarkable fete that made her well loved and appreciated by people from both up the street and in her heart.

Considering this is the first funeral I have ever been to where I sat in the first couple of pews reserved for family, needless to say a lot of thoughts went through my head. None of them as strong as watching my grandfather during the week I was in Little Rock. This man spent 63 years married to this woman. I have seen the face of what true heartbreak is and it isn't a relationship that falls apart after a year or two. True heartbreak is watching someone you love move on without you, and since I love my grandfather my heart was breaking for him. It breaks now as I type these words.

I figure that when someone passes no matter what our belief of life after death, we are left with holes in our system. It is like a little piece of us has been taken with them. I felt that yesterday while looking at a picture of the family that I had to leave 17 hours away. I feel that my grandmother is has left several holes in my system. I think those holes get filled in though, and the way i picture it in my head is like this: picture just the outline of a body with holes in it like cheese. Now fill in everything around the holes. I think those holes get filled in with light. In my head I see light just bursting through those holes.

Now I don't know what this light is, I'm sorry to say. Maybe it is memory, maybe it is an odd mixture of happiness and sadness (cause that is what I feel.) I don' t know but in my head i just see holes filled with light, but there is definitely a piece of us that is missing, that isn't part of us anymore; and yet it still is a huge part of us. I hope that makes sense.

I know this isn't scientifically correct, but I come from the impression that my family is a part of me. Inside of me is 50% of my mother and 50%my father. Of that percentage 25% of me is everyone of my grandparents. They are with me at all times. Take that however your thoughts allow it to take you, maybe it is in spirit, maybe in blood, or just in the genes I carry with me at all times, but inside of me they are there and they are alwys prevelent.

They exist in the way I do my crosswords, they exist in the expressions I make (or the curse words I say), or the way I pull up my pants when they get too saggy. They exist in the way I use my fork, in the way I love poached eggs rather then scrambled, in the way I drive my car, in the way I sing constantly. They are there and there is no way to get them out of my inner self. I am proud to have part of them in there. I am proud that that light in those holes are shining through. However, I do not like that someone has to pass for you to see how truly deep those holes are.

I understand that as time goes on the outlook for everyone looks similar, we get old and we pass. However, without the death part, the life part doesn't hold any meaning. I think we should all realize where we come from and get to know our family (both blood and non-blood) and just love them for who they are (faults and all) because if we don't then the holes left within us will just be holes and there will be no light to shine through. Maybe the light that shines through is that part of us that is them.