Year in Review: 2007

I finished putting together my son's xmas gift, a wooden train set/table combination that will probably take up half his bedroom. I think he'll enjoy it for at least 2 weeks before he moves on to his next childhood obsession. It's been about six months since I last wrote a blog entry.

We made plans this Xmas weekend to visit friends and family, but, as always, life had other plans for us. Two buddies of mine were meeting for our annual Christmas brunch this morning, and I had to bow out of it. Wanted to be there. Desperately wanted to be there. Those two were my lifeline for several years, particularly when my work environment became a tad too political and stressful. We loved riffing off each other and saying whatever offensive thing came to our minds. I will always love them for that . But we had 2 other friends, one recovering from surgery, the other with a new baby, that we also wanted to see. If it was just up to me, I would have found a way to make it work, but it never is.

As it turned out, we ended up not seeing anybody, which is actually a good thing, because my boy spiked an afternoon fever of 101. So now, our family Xmas plans are contingent on how well he feels. Last Xmas, he busted his lip on the neighborhood park jungle gym right before Christmas Eve dinner. The funny thing about his fevers is that he never acts sick. He jumps and climbs just as much when he is well. The only indication of his health is the heat he generates. My wife and I danced this song before, so we're not too worried. However, it never fails that the in-laws scream that we take him out too much, but they're virtual shut-ins who wouldn't know a normal human interaction if it came and spat them in the face, so I can't take them seriously. But they do annoy the heck out of me with that talk. Next time we take him out, I'll bring a video camera to show the in-laws that my son is not the only child who foolishly dares to step outside in this world. I'll play them the tape and spout color commentary.

"See there's a kid. Look, there's another one. She's not even wearing a jacket. See all these kids? Let's count them: one, two, ten, fifteen. Fifteen children! Now are any of them is going to be possessed by demons, just becuz they happen to be outside playing in a neighborhood park? Maybe in Vietnam, but things run a little differently here in America."

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Just watched "It's a Wonderful Life" again on TV. God, I love that movie, but a recent Vanity Fair article illuminated a different spin on this story. So this George guy is always on the verge of following his dreams of travel and adventure, but family, finances, friends and love always seem to rein him back into his stressful, hum-drum small town lifestyle. Now this caring for his fellow man has finally brought him to the brink of financial ruin and probable imprisonment. He starts to fray around the edges and finally cracks, lashing at all the things he percieves to be holding him back. He wishes he was never born and is granted that wish by an angel. Turns out that his life is a wreck, so it can make everyone else's a little bit better. All the dumb crap he had to suffer through actually did make a difference. His life prevented loved ones' miserable predicaments like death, sadness, depression, etc. The man is so stunned by this revelation, that he begs and pleads to have his old life back.

What a chump. He almost got off scott free!!! He was never born, so what did it matter whatever happened to all those other people? He didn't even exist, so there's no blame that can be placed his way. Being a 'nonexistent' person meant that he could now do the traveling and adventuring he could only dream about in his previous life.

BUT NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! He had to weep and puss out. Through some extraordinary circumstance, he made it out of Shawshank and he begged the warden to be placed back in. Damn, I love Hollywood.

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I've been listening to the "Sweeney Todd" and "Company" revival cast albums recently. I've never heard more technologically crisp recordings. Older cast albums sound muddy and echoey compared to these two recent cds. Where I appreciate this the most is in the singing. Singing on the older albums seem more like yelling to me. The advanced technology allows the singers a greater range of volume and complexity. Silences are more precious. Loud passages are that much more emotional and gut-wrenching. Don't know if the singers themselves are better than their predecessors, but I do appreciate the fact I can hear them clearly and distinctly ennunciate Sondheim's lyrics.

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Haven't done art at all. Don't have the headspace in my life right now. If I work on something, I want to be sequestered away at least for a good two hours. Now, the only time I get 5 minutes to myself is during early morning, when my family is asleep. Having to stop every 5 minutes when I'm just working up the creative juices proved to be frustrating, so it's just better to not even start at this point. It sucks, because it is the only thing I feel I'm really good at. It sucks, because I think I still haven't reached my potential. Everything I do now (work, family, etc.) is an ill-equipped struggle to barely skate by. Art was something that gave me power; that gave me a rush. Now I have to bide time.