I'm a dreamer. I beleive in miracles, I guess I get that from my mother. Yesterday woulda been her birthday. I'd like to think she'd believe in the miracle of me getting as far as I have with all 9....no...still got 10 fingers...whew.
Its not been easy. I've been burned, physically and emotionally (yeah, i know, "woe is me", but this is me writing not you.), as well as frozen (last week when it was oh...-349 degrees comes to mind). I've been strug out, strained, broken and crushed. I've been all but melted and rebuilt from the ground up.
While its not any different or any worse then what others have gone through, its been my battle, so for others to belittle it is bothersome, and to them i kindly extend my demented middle finger as a sign of my not not giving a damn.
Throughout this all, ive learned a few mighty truths.
The past will never, ever truly go away, so stop trying to make it, stop trying to forget it and learn from it. I'm serious. The farther you attempt to run from something the quicker that the "something" will catch up. Trust me, I know about running. I'm the lunatic who runs when its 204 degrees out. (I like it when I sweat so much my clothes stick to me like a superhero. Woooosh!!)If an issue from the past, be it good or bad, confronts you, charge at it headlong...you might find the result to be surprising. The past is vitally, and yes, sometimes achingly important. It reminds us how to build for the future, and reminds us of where we came from, maybe not in the form of a physical place, but in the form of an experience. It the best instruction manual you can use, and since you wrote it, you can read it in whatever damn language you want.
Variety is not always the spice of life. After going down the cookie aisle at the supermarket, I once again noticed a new flavor of Oreo, bringing the current total to....329223. This is more absurd then wearing underwear backwards so the fart escapes via the pee flap.(don't try this at home, try it at work.) This absurd amount of variety is breeding a society so bored with what we have for 5 minutes that it "needs" something new in 3 minutes, which it will then get bored with just as fast, leading to more stressed out workers, who will then never to engage in watercolor conversation about who has an uglier set of argyle socks.
Technology is not always a good thing. Leave it to a fictional character voiced by James Earl Jones, but when Darth Vader said, "Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed...", he likely had no clue it would resonate so well almost 40 years later. People laud the e-book, but fail to realize the printed book didn't have to run on battery, and when it got wet, all ya had to do was dry it out. They probably didn't realize that by downloading books, the publishers, book binders, and book store workers(myself included), would be out of work. Give me a 4 pound hardcover any day of the week. I'll use it to keep me dry in a storm, then read later while you get an electrical shock from your now soaked nook.
Scary is good. While not always true, more often then not, the old adage of, "the things we are most scared of are the most worth it." is usually spot on...keep in mind this does NOT apply to eating bugs or licking batteries. But being scared of that girl or guy, for whatever reason is not worth the fear. Break through the wall and be a hero, to at least yourself. You'll find that it was worth it, and while it might take a bit, it is worth pushing past the fear. Fear is nothing more then a stuck jelly jar. Its always easier...and far more satisfying to open with a sledgehammer.
While I'm not a philosopher, I do play one on TV...er...if I was on TV. Thats not true. I'd probably play a firefighter...or a race car driver. Or a male cheerleader. Regardless, its possible these could work, but being one who applies to the method of, "not following ones advice"...I might not be so sure. I would like to find out, I would also like to find out what Pepsi Cheetos taste like to. Theres only one way to find out...and maybe, just maybe, i'll get that miracle.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
One Of These Years I'm Going To Beat Him To The Check...
I'm breaking out like a 15 year old right now because i'm stressed. Ironically maybe, stress comes easier now than it did when I was 15. When one is 15, the things we found to be, "stressful" often in the long run turned out to be nothing of the sort. Kind of frightens me for what the future holds.
When I was 15 life was different, it almost seems a world away...I was still a kid...and everything was magical and the world held promise and hope. Then adulthood comes along and tries to beat it out of you, and it seems that, as of late, it has. This year has not been entirely kinda to me, nor has it been kind to others.
But, I the eternal optimist, with the 15 year old still living inside me still has hope that the promise of a new better day awaits. After all, thats part of what this season is about, isn't it? Being a kid again? Why limit it to one day, month or season though? Its time to unlace the boots and run in the mud again. Its time to sit on a comfy couch and read comic books. Its time to cover your neighbors car in water on a cold day so it freezes over...alright...maybe not that last one. Unless you have a grouch of a neighbor...which I do. Its time to have a soda drinking...and then burping contest...We need to let our freak flag fly proudly again...
...If we don't, we might not get another chance. One thing i've learned this year is that ages old and sometimes irritatingly cliche` mantra of, "life is precious, live today like it could be your last."...I wish i applied that mindset for no practical reason, but sadly I had to.
Christmas is not about religion for me, I am an atheist after all...but it is about togetherness in regards to the, "life is precious" thing. Spend time with those you like and love. Enjoy that time, enjoy those people, and don't be afraid to open up to them, to joke with them, or to be there for them...unless you happen to be pooping...privacy is important too ya know.
Realize that some people might spend this holiday alone, and welcome them into your life. No one, and I mean no one should be alone on Christmas, "Home Alone" taught us why. Give an 8 year-old that much freedom and Joe Pesci gets burned, and Joe Pesci doesn't deserve to get burned...nor do the cookies I made, but, hey, ya win some, ya lose some.
One thing I...you...anyone shouldn't lose is the ability to hope for a better tomorrow, a better year...whether its something as simple as downing a chocolate milkshake without getting an ice cream headache, or something as complex as getting a favorite tv show back on the air(yes, that one), you need to act on what you want. Make that your goal for the next year, not your resolution, because those are meant to be broken...make it your goal.
Don't accept anything less then what you want(unless it means cracking a brick over someones head, thats considered a felony), or what you deserve. Instead of saying it, go out and do it, give you all, and if you fail, you at least gave 100% effort. Be the person 15 year old you wanted to be, be the person you want to be. Its Christmas dammit. Have some hope.
When I was 15 life was different, it almost seems a world away...I was still a kid...and everything was magical and the world held promise and hope. Then adulthood comes along and tries to beat it out of you, and it seems that, as of late, it has. This year has not been entirely kinda to me, nor has it been kind to others.
But, I the eternal optimist, with the 15 year old still living inside me still has hope that the promise of a new better day awaits. After all, thats part of what this season is about, isn't it? Being a kid again? Why limit it to one day, month or season though? Its time to unlace the boots and run in the mud again. Its time to sit on a comfy couch and read comic books. Its time to cover your neighbors car in water on a cold day so it freezes over...alright...maybe not that last one. Unless you have a grouch of a neighbor...which I do. Its time to have a soda drinking...and then burping contest...We need to let our freak flag fly proudly again...
...If we don't, we might not get another chance. One thing i've learned this year is that ages old and sometimes irritatingly cliche` mantra of, "life is precious, live today like it could be your last."...I wish i applied that mindset for no practical reason, but sadly I had to.
Christmas is not about religion for me, I am an atheist after all...but it is about togetherness in regards to the, "life is precious" thing. Spend time with those you like and love. Enjoy that time, enjoy those people, and don't be afraid to open up to them, to joke with them, or to be there for them...unless you happen to be pooping...privacy is important too ya know.
Realize that some people might spend this holiday alone, and welcome them into your life. No one, and I mean no one should be alone on Christmas, "Home Alone" taught us why. Give an 8 year-old that much freedom and Joe Pesci gets burned, and Joe Pesci doesn't deserve to get burned...nor do the cookies I made, but, hey, ya win some, ya lose some.
One thing I...you...anyone shouldn't lose is the ability to hope for a better tomorrow, a better year...whether its something as simple as downing a chocolate milkshake without getting an ice cream headache, or something as complex as getting a favorite tv show back on the air(yes, that one), you need to act on what you want. Make that your goal for the next year, not your resolution, because those are meant to be broken...make it your goal.
Don't accept anything less then what you want(unless it means cracking a brick over someones head, thats considered a felony), or what you deserve. Instead of saying it, go out and do it, give you all, and if you fail, you at least gave 100% effort. Be the person 15 year old you wanted to be, be the person you want to be. Its Christmas dammit. Have some hope.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
The 12 Labors Of Hercules
The reason I chose that title above is for a multitude of reasons. One of which being the significance of the number 12. Another being my affinity for Greek mythology. Another still is becuase New York City, much like ancient Greece before it, can, in many aspects be considered the modern day pantheon of society.
Yet, I believe our city, our time will endure far, far longer than that of ancient Greece. It already smells older than it.
In fact, I beleive the fires that were stoked that day 12 years ago rage still this day. But they rage in a different way. They are the fires of hope, of a Phoenix rising above despair. My fellow New Yorkers may be scoffed at or even sometimes mocked because of our way of life, our candor, but without our city, this nation would not be what it is today. From the Bodega owner in the Riverdale section of the north Bronx to the family doctor in Tottenville, here on Staten Island, we have proven time and again to be a bastion of civility in light of the worst of humanity, and it was proven once again 11 months ago when our city was dealt another sucker punch by Hurricane Sandy.
Thats why I marveled at the fact, five days ago, as I stood on a Rosebank shoreline with a friend of mine...staring out over the harbor at Manhattan....that we still in fact had a Rosebank shoreline.
While i'm not arrogant enough to beleive that New York is a city strong enough to defeat mother nature, I do like to beleive that they can come to some agreement over a slice of Pizza at Denino's...or Nunzios...or Joe & Pats...or Lombardis...or Grmialdis...or...well, you get the picture.
New York city is so ballsy its frustrated some of the great writers, such as E.B. White, who once said, " It is a miracle that New York works at all. The whole thing is implausible."
Yet, through that audacious, sometimes unabashed bravado, the true New Yorker, the true American shines through...even in the darkest of nights.
My cousin Joe, whom I considered a brother, and who passed away 4 months ago, was one of the truest personifications of a New Yorker I can imagine. He lived his life to the absolute fullest and somehow, someway managed to even wear both a Yankee and a Met hat and get people to smile through one of his endless, and I mean endless stories. If, eons from now, New York Cities history is be complied onto a Quadroceptotino-drive (yes, I made that up so don't bother Googling it.), you can be certain that my cousin will get a chapter of some sort.
It is that kind of person, that kind of individual that will always be the true face of New York. So while the 34 inch plasma screen may show you a De Blasio, or a Colbert, both excellent in their own right, i'll prefer to look at an old Kodakchrome of Joe Spinelli.
When I gazed out over the harbor at that skyline friday night, at that tower rising amongst the stone and glass of the city beneath it, I had that galvanizing "New York Minute" moment to myself where I realized that yeah,I, like the city will have hard times, but we will make it through those trying experiences, not because we have to, not because we want to, but becuase we simply "will." Our willpower is that strong. We really are, that damn stubborn.
So to those who seek to belittle us, and snub us...those who don't really know us. I ask you to remember when we dug on our hands and knees with buckets searching for hope 12 years ago. We found it. We found a lot more then hope, we found something indescribably incandescent. Hell, we may be one of the only cities in the history of the world to get dealt a series of devastating blows, but instead of sinking in defeat, we defiantly stand up, dust ourselves off and push onward, ready to meet the next challenge.
We're a city of of dreamers, and I know that I, like my cousin, my mother, and countless others dream of a city, hell, of a world where everyone, regardless of race, regardless of gender, regardless of religious preference, regardless of sexual preference, looked at each other, and gave that truly New York style handshake that turned into a hearty hug, because that is what it REALLY means to be a New Yorker.
It means throwing out all of your intolerances, all your prejudices, becuase when you really, and i mean really need that bathroom at that deli, you aren't going to care what religion the owner is, so why should it bug ya any other time. And why should it matter if the person who gives you coffee is gay or straight? How does that impact your life? It doesn't. And thats what being a New Yorker is about...not sweating the small things. We have more important issues to deal with, like...when's Jeter's ankle gonna get better? or why the hell is that damn ferry late again? It's the third time this week.
So I ask you, if you have time, listen to Billy Joel's(One of my late mothers favorites), "New York State Of Mind", and then remember this statement :
Being a New Yorker is a privilege, one not taken lightly. And I, Like this city, ain't goin' no where..
Yet, I believe our city, our time will endure far, far longer than that of ancient Greece. It already smells older than it.
In fact, I beleive the fires that were stoked that day 12 years ago rage still this day. But they rage in a different way. They are the fires of hope, of a Phoenix rising above despair. My fellow New Yorkers may be scoffed at or even sometimes mocked because of our way of life, our candor, but without our city, this nation would not be what it is today. From the Bodega owner in the Riverdale section of the north Bronx to the family doctor in Tottenville, here on Staten Island, we have proven time and again to be a bastion of civility in light of the worst of humanity, and it was proven once again 11 months ago when our city was dealt another sucker punch by Hurricane Sandy.
Thats why I marveled at the fact, five days ago, as I stood on a Rosebank shoreline with a friend of mine...staring out over the harbor at Manhattan....that we still in fact had a Rosebank shoreline.
While i'm not arrogant enough to beleive that New York is a city strong enough to defeat mother nature, I do like to beleive that they can come to some agreement over a slice of Pizza at Denino's...or Nunzios...or Joe & Pats...or Lombardis...or Grmialdis...or...well, you get the picture.
New York city is so ballsy its frustrated some of the great writers, such as E.B. White, who once said, " It is a miracle that New York works at all. The whole thing is implausible."
Yet, through that audacious, sometimes unabashed bravado, the true New Yorker, the true American shines through...even in the darkest of nights.
My cousin Joe, whom I considered a brother, and who passed away 4 months ago, was one of the truest personifications of a New Yorker I can imagine. He lived his life to the absolute fullest and somehow, someway managed to even wear both a Yankee and a Met hat and get people to smile through one of his endless, and I mean endless stories. If, eons from now, New York Cities history is be complied onto a Quadroceptotino-drive (yes, I made that up so don't bother Googling it.), you can be certain that my cousin will get a chapter of some sort.
It is that kind of person, that kind of individual that will always be the true face of New York. So while the 34 inch plasma screen may show you a De Blasio, or a Colbert, both excellent in their own right, i'll prefer to look at an old Kodakchrome of Joe Spinelli.
When I gazed out over the harbor at that skyline friday night, at that tower rising amongst the stone and glass of the city beneath it, I had that galvanizing "New York Minute" moment to myself where I realized that yeah,I, like the city will have hard times, but we will make it through those trying experiences, not because we have to, not because we want to, but becuase we simply "will." Our willpower is that strong. We really are, that damn stubborn.
So to those who seek to belittle us, and snub us...those who don't really know us. I ask you to remember when we dug on our hands and knees with buckets searching for hope 12 years ago. We found it. We found a lot more then hope, we found something indescribably incandescent. Hell, we may be one of the only cities in the history of the world to get dealt a series of devastating blows, but instead of sinking in defeat, we defiantly stand up, dust ourselves off and push onward, ready to meet the next challenge.
We're a city of of dreamers, and I know that I, like my cousin, my mother, and countless others dream of a city, hell, of a world where everyone, regardless of race, regardless of gender, regardless of religious preference, regardless of sexual preference, looked at each other, and gave that truly New York style handshake that turned into a hearty hug, because that is what it REALLY means to be a New Yorker.
It means throwing out all of your intolerances, all your prejudices, becuase when you really, and i mean really need that bathroom at that deli, you aren't going to care what religion the owner is, so why should it bug ya any other time. And why should it matter if the person who gives you coffee is gay or straight? How does that impact your life? It doesn't. And thats what being a New Yorker is about...not sweating the small things. We have more important issues to deal with, like...when's Jeter's ankle gonna get better? or why the hell is that damn ferry late again? It's the third time this week.
So I ask you, if you have time, listen to Billy Joel's(One of my late mothers favorites), "New York State Of Mind", and then remember this statement :
Being a New Yorker is a privilege, one not taken lightly. And I, Like this city, ain't goin' no where..
Saturday, June 15, 2013
The Ectoplasmic Ionization Rate
In a lil less then one week, on June 21st, i'll be 31...and thats more numbers then i care to use. You see, I like math about as much as I do wearing pants, which is to say I don't, but apparently, some people have made laws requiring their use.
So, 31. And yet i still live at home and am still in the never ending process of getting a degree...apparently living up to that stereotype. I get to see firsthand our natures youth grow up...the aging of, "Generation Y" if you will...and man is that scary...seems like just yesterday some of these kids were turning 5, now they're sitting in a class next to me telling me how, "awesome" it is they can stay out till 4am and wake up in 5 minutes ready to tackle the day and how it will "always be that way." Well junior, I come to you from the future with a little thing i'd like to call reality. It won't always be that easy.
I can't believe I've made it this far to tell ya the truth, I thought for sure a random oven explosion woulda killed me by this point, what with my penchant for random food creations...or perhaps i'd come across someone who didn't like one of my pictures beating me with a fish...which, I've always wanted to do to a few people...y'know, just to hear the sound it makes.
I don't know what to make of it all to be honest. It's a bit surreal. Everyone says "you're supposed to be an adult", but all the "adults" I see are miserable, so whats the point? Plus, i'm pretty sure my Amazon.com wishlist exempts me from being an adult...
I think you're supposed to have fun in life, but it seems a lot of people have forgot that. Yeah, I know...me, you, whoever...will undoubtedly face a lot of struggle and have a lot of bad days, you can't let them own you.
Think about it. Would you rather see a picture of you looking like you just went to a funeral or a picture of you having lunch with Weird Al? We all know Weird Al is the man. And lunch is fun, because its not breakfast, which in my opinion is the most restrictive meal of the day. If you have a burger for breakfast people think your insane because burgers aren't classified as "breakfast food." That...in my mind kinda makes breakfast foodist. I think just went on a tangent and invented a term...go me.
I do tend to ramble like a lunatic at times, but the doctors say thats alright as long as i eat my pudding....man I talk about food a lot....i'm a fat guy on the inside. It all works out since I run, and probably due in part to this running I have knees that hate me. Will I stop? Nope. Why? Because that'd be admitting I let pain win and if you go down that road, its never a good thing. You just have to look at pain and tell it, "nope, not gonna happen."
You need to stronger then pain....and yes, I know I sound like Sylvester Stallone there, but it turns out he was right on that one...and probably also right on, "The Expendables", which I still haven't seen...i'm waiting for a nice lovely lady to join me to see that...because any girl who is willing to sit and watch explosions and 2 hours of likely awful acting is a keeper.
The single life, while it does have its benefits(all the LEGO I want and i can crap with the door open), it does kinda suck seeing all you happy people bitch about relationship problems or constantly ramble about your significant other while most of the time i sit or lay alone wishing I had someone. I'm happy for ya, all...well...most...ok...some of you, really I am, but you bet your ass i'm jealous, and for damn good reason.
But still, throughout that all I don't want to let the world keep me down. I've been here almost 31 years and that means something, it means I've taken hit after hit and i'm still here. I'm still standing, just like my city, which has taken many more hits than me. We're that annoying 3 year old that doesn't shut the hell up in the movie theater.
That I realized today when out for a drive. It takes drive and tenacity to survive, but it takes a special breed to survive in this city, and I've managed to do it with surprising efficiency. That, I think- is why some people dislike New Yorkers, because we're a reminder of the fact that there are tough people in the world. People who like to say, "no" to things, not question them, just say, "no" to them, we're that bombastic. But i'm gonna let you in on a secret, if you're reading this, and you aren't from here, you at least know a New Yorker, and that is enough to make you tough. I hereby imbue you with the toughness of a mother of 6 from the South Bronx. I give you the tenacity of a firefighter from Bed-Sty, the bullishness of a homeowner from South Beach...the REAL South Beach, not the crappy one from Florida, aka Americas Wang.
I'm here for a reason, you're here for a reason, we all are...we're survivors...we're dreamers, we're supposed to be happy, and achieve our goals, whatever they may be, whether its making art out of paper clips or filming really weird porn, you have to push forward to make that dream happen...You need to learn to not be afraid, not let fear and pain grip you, that...is your mind giving up before your heart does.
I've made it this far, and have every intention of going a lot further and so can you, all of you. You all have the ability, the drive and passion to be that photographer, to be that firefighter, to be that baker, to be that crash test dummy, or to be whatever it is you desire to be. You do have it in you, you just gotta look for it, you gotta dig like you're goin for the best booger ever. You'll find it, its there. Trust me.
Be bold, be creative, be daring, just don't be boring...and if anyone tells you that you "can't" do something, work that much harder to prove them wrong, but more importantly, to prove to yourself that you CAN. Surround yourself with people that will lift you up, that will tell you to never give up, that will give you that extra kick in the ass when you need it.
This is what I've learned in my 30 or so years on this planet. Oh, and don't cross the streams.
So, 31. And yet i still live at home and am still in the never ending process of getting a degree...apparently living up to that stereotype. I get to see firsthand our natures youth grow up...the aging of, "Generation Y" if you will...and man is that scary...seems like just yesterday some of these kids were turning 5, now they're sitting in a class next to me telling me how, "awesome" it is they can stay out till 4am and wake up in 5 minutes ready to tackle the day and how it will "always be that way." Well junior, I come to you from the future with a little thing i'd like to call reality. It won't always be that easy.
I can't believe I've made it this far to tell ya the truth, I thought for sure a random oven explosion woulda killed me by this point, what with my penchant for random food creations...or perhaps i'd come across someone who didn't like one of my pictures beating me with a fish...which, I've always wanted to do to a few people...y'know, just to hear the sound it makes.
I don't know what to make of it all to be honest. It's a bit surreal. Everyone says "you're supposed to be an adult", but all the "adults" I see are miserable, so whats the point? Plus, i'm pretty sure my Amazon.com wishlist exempts me from being an adult...
I think you're supposed to have fun in life, but it seems a lot of people have forgot that. Yeah, I know...me, you, whoever...will undoubtedly face a lot of struggle and have a lot of bad days, you can't let them own you.
Think about it. Would you rather see a picture of you looking like you just went to a funeral or a picture of you having lunch with Weird Al? We all know Weird Al is the man. And lunch is fun, because its not breakfast, which in my opinion is the most restrictive meal of the day. If you have a burger for breakfast people think your insane because burgers aren't classified as "breakfast food." That...in my mind kinda makes breakfast foodist. I think just went on a tangent and invented a term...go me.
I do tend to ramble like a lunatic at times, but the doctors say thats alright as long as i eat my pudding....man I talk about food a lot....i'm a fat guy on the inside. It all works out since I run, and probably due in part to this running I have knees that hate me. Will I stop? Nope. Why? Because that'd be admitting I let pain win and if you go down that road, its never a good thing. You just have to look at pain and tell it, "nope, not gonna happen."
You need to stronger then pain....and yes, I know I sound like Sylvester Stallone there, but it turns out he was right on that one...and probably also right on, "The Expendables", which I still haven't seen...i'm waiting for a nice lovely lady to join me to see that...because any girl who is willing to sit and watch explosions and 2 hours of likely awful acting is a keeper.
The single life, while it does have its benefits(all the LEGO I want and i can crap with the door open), it does kinda suck seeing all you happy people bitch about relationship problems or constantly ramble about your significant other while most of the time i sit or lay alone wishing I had someone. I'm happy for ya, all...well...most...ok...some of you, really I am, but you bet your ass i'm jealous, and for damn good reason.
But still, throughout that all I don't want to let the world keep me down. I've been here almost 31 years and that means something, it means I've taken hit after hit and i'm still here. I'm still standing, just like my city, which has taken many more hits than me. We're that annoying 3 year old that doesn't shut the hell up in the movie theater.
That I realized today when out for a drive. It takes drive and tenacity to survive, but it takes a special breed to survive in this city, and I've managed to do it with surprising efficiency. That, I think- is why some people dislike New Yorkers, because we're a reminder of the fact that there are tough people in the world. People who like to say, "no" to things, not question them, just say, "no" to them, we're that bombastic. But i'm gonna let you in on a secret, if you're reading this, and you aren't from here, you at least know a New Yorker, and that is enough to make you tough. I hereby imbue you with the toughness of a mother of 6 from the South Bronx. I give you the tenacity of a firefighter from Bed-Sty, the bullishness of a homeowner from South Beach...the REAL South Beach, not the crappy one from Florida, aka Americas Wang.
I'm here for a reason, you're here for a reason, we all are...we're survivors...we're dreamers, we're supposed to be happy, and achieve our goals, whatever they may be, whether its making art out of paper clips or filming really weird porn, you have to push forward to make that dream happen...You need to learn to not be afraid, not let fear and pain grip you, that...is your mind giving up before your heart does.
I've made it this far, and have every intention of going a lot further and so can you, all of you. You all have the ability, the drive and passion to be that photographer, to be that firefighter, to be that baker, to be that crash test dummy, or to be whatever it is you desire to be. You do have it in you, you just gotta look for it, you gotta dig like you're goin for the best booger ever. You'll find it, its there. Trust me.
Be bold, be creative, be daring, just don't be boring...and if anyone tells you that you "can't" do something, work that much harder to prove them wrong, but more importantly, to prove to yourself that you CAN. Surround yourself with people that will lift you up, that will tell you to never give up, that will give you that extra kick in the ass when you need it.
This is what I've learned in my 30 or so years on this planet. Oh, and don't cross the streams.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
For Hope.
I ran last night, not at all absent minded of anything else to do to, not because I wanted to avoid the media onslaught that comes during these tragic events, no, I ran because others could not.
I ran because the cool air invigorated my lungs, my body - into a sense of drive, a sense of purpose to not let fear and cowardice rule my life. To not let the selfish acts of a few weigh me down, for I have done that far too long now.
This however, is not about me, the sum of this all is far greater than any one person, it is about all of us. It is about standing up to intolerance, ignorance, and hatred. That’s what this needs to be about.
Pointing angry, uninformed fingers at one another does not change what happened, it does not make the pain go away, it does not heal a wound.
I know many of you are angry and many are confused, however, acting against an individual or group because of ignorant fears is just as cowardly an act as the one that sullied this day. We are all better then the sum of our fears, we are far greater, far stronger than fear ever will be.
Many of you feel the need to act. Think before doing so. Give help and assistance to those in need, that is far more useful and much more resonating. Hug your family, hug your friends, maybe a little more tighter then normal, and be thankful you have the chance to do so.
It is my wish that one thing that is remembered most about yesterday is the love and caring for one another. In the darkness of horror, the light and love of humanity was at its brightest.
We will endure because we, as a species have hope, and that will always, always trump fear, because, simply put - hope is driven by good, and our capacity for good will always, always, outweigh all else.
I ran last night because I am a runner. I will continue to run, not from fear, but for hope. Hope for a better tomorrow.
I ran because the cool air invigorated my lungs, my body - into a sense of drive, a sense of purpose to not let fear and cowardice rule my life. To not let the selfish acts of a few weigh me down, for I have done that far too long now.
This however, is not about me, the sum of this all is far greater than any one person, it is about all of us. It is about standing up to intolerance, ignorance, and hatred. That’s what this needs to be about.
Pointing angry, uninformed fingers at one another does not change what happened, it does not make the pain go away, it does not heal a wound.
I know many of you are angry and many are confused, however, acting against an individual or group because of ignorant fears is just as cowardly an act as the one that sullied this day. We are all better then the sum of our fears, we are far greater, far stronger than fear ever will be.
Many of you feel the need to act. Think before doing so. Give help and assistance to those in need, that is far more useful and much more resonating. Hug your family, hug your friends, maybe a little more tighter then normal, and be thankful you have the chance to do so.
It is my wish that one thing that is remembered most about yesterday is the love and caring for one another. In the darkness of horror, the light and love of humanity was at its brightest.
We will endure because we, as a species have hope, and that will always, always trump fear, because, simply put - hope is driven by good, and our capacity for good will always, always, outweigh all else.
I ran last night because I am a runner. I will continue to run, not from fear, but for hope. Hope for a better tomorrow.
Friday, February 01, 2013
Apogee
A Few weeks ago, as I aimed my camera toward a rapidly darkening sky, a white streak raced across the heavens. This streak was not some celestial body on its orbital commute across the sky. It was the International Space Station, traveling at 17,000mph, roughly 260 miles above the Earth.
This marvel of human achievement is something that, sadly is often overlooked. This despite the fact that countless, and I do mean countless hours of blood, sweat and tears went into its construction. The fact that it the Space Shuttle Columbia paved the way for its construction should not be forgotten. Nor should the fact that on this very day, ten years ago, Columbia and her crew did not return safely to Earth.
To many, they are just names. Rick D. Husband, William C. McCool, David M. Brown, Kalpana Chawla, Michael P. Anderson, Laurel B. Clark and Ilan Ramon. But to many more, hopefully a great many, they are remembered as they should be, legendary heroes. Sure they may not have battled the forces of evil. They may not have fought crime or fires. But they did something that is just as, if not far more important.
They were dreamers. They looked at the reality of a situation and said, "there's another way, a better way. A fun way." They didn't see problems, they say chances for improvement. The box we sometimes live in? They shattered it. They, and the many, many others who dare to dream, dare to hope for better, dare to give us the chance to make possible the impossible, make real the imaginary.
For the longest time, many people have accused me of "not thinking in reality.", of being a "dreamer" and for a brief while, I let those people convince me that "their way" was the "right way." Turns out they were wrong. I am a dreamer, and you know what? I love it. I'm better for it. I don't want to be confined to the box of normal everyday drudgery, I want to be in the box of six year old me...when the box was a space ship or a submarine.
Dreams exist for reason. To let us know that as dreary as life can get, we always have the power to make it better. Be it a Kansas cornfield or the depths of the Atlantic, you should follow the dream...wherever it may take you. In the end, you will become a stronger person for it.
Whether or not you believe in the space program, believe in this: A decade ago, seven people went took a journey outside of the grip of our atmosphere, into the cold unforgiving black just so that you, me, all of us could have a chance to make our lives better. Is this a sacrifice we really want to forget? Chase your dreams, for our dreams our the key to our happiness.
The dream of happiness is something we all have. And just like the journey these legends took, it is not one of ease, but then again, nothing worth having is easy. You have to fight for it, just like they did.
There is a plaque at a launch complex on the grounds of Kennedy Space Center memorializing another group of Astronauts who made the ultimate sacrifice, and on it, is the inscription, "Ad Astra Per Aspera", which is Latin for "A Rough Road Leads To The Stars"
So while the road may be rough, the stars along the way are more then worth the journey.
This marvel of human achievement is something that, sadly is often overlooked. This despite the fact that countless, and I do mean countless hours of blood, sweat and tears went into its construction. The fact that it the Space Shuttle Columbia paved the way for its construction should not be forgotten. Nor should the fact that on this very day, ten years ago, Columbia and her crew did not return safely to Earth.
To many, they are just names. Rick D. Husband, William C. McCool, David M. Brown, Kalpana Chawla, Michael P. Anderson, Laurel B. Clark and Ilan Ramon. But to many more, hopefully a great many, they are remembered as they should be, legendary heroes. Sure they may not have battled the forces of evil. They may not have fought crime or fires. But they did something that is just as, if not far more important.
They were dreamers. They looked at the reality of a situation and said, "there's another way, a better way. A fun way." They didn't see problems, they say chances for improvement. The box we sometimes live in? They shattered it. They, and the many, many others who dare to dream, dare to hope for better, dare to give us the chance to make possible the impossible, make real the imaginary.
For the longest time, many people have accused me of "not thinking in reality.", of being a "dreamer" and for a brief while, I let those people convince me that "their way" was the "right way." Turns out they were wrong. I am a dreamer, and you know what? I love it. I'm better for it. I don't want to be confined to the box of normal everyday drudgery, I want to be in the box of six year old me...when the box was a space ship or a submarine.
Dreams exist for reason. To let us know that as dreary as life can get, we always have the power to make it better. Be it a Kansas cornfield or the depths of the Atlantic, you should follow the dream...wherever it may take you. In the end, you will become a stronger person for it.
Whether or not you believe in the space program, believe in this: A decade ago, seven people went took a journey outside of the grip of our atmosphere, into the cold unforgiving black just so that you, me, all of us could have a chance to make our lives better. Is this a sacrifice we really want to forget? Chase your dreams, for our dreams our the key to our happiness.
The dream of happiness is something we all have. And just like the journey these legends took, it is not one of ease, but then again, nothing worth having is easy. You have to fight for it, just like they did.
There is a plaque at a launch complex on the grounds of Kennedy Space Center memorializing another group of Astronauts who made the ultimate sacrifice, and on it, is the inscription, "Ad Astra Per Aspera", which is Latin for "A Rough Road Leads To The Stars"
So while the road may be rough, the stars along the way are more then worth the journey.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
According to blogger this is going to be my 347th post. That's obviously less then the amount of days in a year...which is odd considering I've had this blog for over a decade now. Oh how much I, and the world have changed in that amount of time.
I watched Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith tonight. While I can now safely say about 95% of the prequels were worse then having a fat lady fall on you on a hot day, the Lightsaber battle at the end of this film resonates with me personally.
Obi-Wan's words, "I have failed you Anakin, I have failed you." remind me of a friendship I lost. This point was especially driven home a few minutes later when he adds, "You were my brother Anakin, I loved you." This friendship was one of slow build, one that took years, but at its apex, it was unlike any other. Both myself and this person...lets call him R.D., were like brothers. A bond that was inseparable...or so I thought.
Like Anakin, R.D. would eventually succumb to the "Dark Side", but not of a fictional "force" per say, no it was of life. Where others found being pushed to be better a good thing and a determining factor in bettering their life, R.D. would be tainted by his achievements, and it gave him the feeling of social and personal invulnerability. This, combined with a mix of drugs and alcohol would serve to be the undoing in our friendship.
This decimation was not all his fault mind you. I do share some of the blame. My own failure to advance myself both socially and mentally was doubtlessly a contributing factor in the downfall of the friendship. I still shoulder this burden to this very day. Not nearly as much as I once did, mainly because I realize that maybe...just maybe the ending was needed. When my mother passed away in 2003, I had wrongly assumed(you know what they say about assuming.) that we could put our troubles aside and he could be there for me. I was wrong. Very wrong, in fact, as his roommate would tell me, "He thinks he's sorry." proved to me just how far gone he was. Then why do I always find myself wanting to go back? Especially when I know it could end catastrophically.
Maybe it is because that, like my so-called namesake, Luke Skywalker realized of his father in "Return of the Jedi", that, "there is still some good in him." Maybe I have that belief in my friend. Now this is not say that R.D. is evil. He has not killed a basket of kittens, nor has he pushed an old lady into oncoming traffic(though after being a paperboy for 7 years I got close a few times.), but he let his larger then life persona get the better of him and became tainted by it.
If anything everyone who knows me well knows I never go about things the easy way. It's another one of my faults. It's why i'm broke and mostly jobless now. It's why I've failed at love. As my many horrible crushes have proven to me, maybe I aim too high. Be it a girl who has stratospheric wealth, or one who has a committed boyfriend, I can never seem to get a foothold on anything within my grasp.
It is this lofty, dream-driven mindset that has likely tired many people close to me, and again, could be a factoring reason in the ending of that friendship.
But from the ashes of that friendship, I have learned how to build anew. This rebuilding has made my life better, especially within the past year. It has been a difficult year to say the VERY least. I liken it to a battle in which I am a lone warrior fighting against an unending army, and every time I sense the battle turning in my favor, another legion of troops is sent my way.
Then, like any good battle, the reinforcements show up, just when they are needed the most. And if that scenario played out in real life, my friends would be those reinforcements. They all, in various ways helped me survive that year, and in doing so showed me once again, that friends are stronger then family.
I'm not the easiest person to know, truer words have likely never been spoken. And everyone can attest to that. For that, I am truly sorry. I know those words likely seem shallow to many, but I speak them with sincerity, for I know my demands, my...sheer unique-ness can drive anyone mad. But, and I know it might be hard to believe, I am doing my best to remedy these faults. It may not come quickly, but I hope it does. I do not enjoy the life I currently live.Now before everyone gets nervous, I ASSURE YOU...I am NOT in any way planning on harming myself or others.
I am not a believer in violence, nor am I a believer in weapons, which, I know will alienate a few, but honestly...I don't give a shit. I've seen far too much horror in my life, nay, in this year to be a proponent in weaponizing the public. In fact, I was never a fan of it, but after the horror I've seen this year, I am even more vehemently opposed to it. I do believe in self defense. I do not believe in putting lead into another human being.
Now I know that many of you think that makes me a peace loving hippie. I am not. Rest assured if you attempt to harm me or those close to me, I will not hesitate to snap your legs into toothpicks, nor will I be ashamed of breaking your nose. Does that make me a hypocrite? Maybe. But I think i'd take far greater satisfaction out of watching someone walk with a limp for the rest of their life then be 6 feet under.
Many scream second amendment. Might I remind you that at the time of the second amendment's writing, no one owned an Uzi, but many owned slaves? In fact I'm fairly certain that if we went back and looked at all the laws written back then, we'd find them to be at best...dated. Maybe it is time we revisit them in an attempt to bring about a day where police officers do not have to deliver horrific news at ones doorstep.
I do not want to see any more photos of anguished people in tears due to tragedy. I want to see tears of joy. The tears that people shed due to absolute unbridled happiness. I want to see photos of troops returning home into the arms of loved ones. I want to see photos of shiny new cars being straddled by sexy models. I want to see photos of people in bliss. There needs to be an end to bitterness, to hatred and bigotry.
The cartoon series, "The Jetsons", envisioned a bright and great future, and it is still within our grasp to attain that future. I know it. I am, at the end of the day an eternal optimist. Maybe this is another one of my faults. But...faults build cracks and the cracks in my give a damn are very close to breaking.
These dams, these barriers that I've set for myself, they've held me back far too long, and in many ways contributed to what I will flatly call, a shitty year. Sure I've had sparks of goodness and joy, but all in all, it was quite shitty. But in spite of that, I have seen some friends have the opposite, and that truly does make me happy. I would easily trade my happiest day to a friend who was having a terrible one. I learned long ago that happiness for me is in all likelihood...unattainable. Now you'll note that a few lines ago I mentioned my penchant for being an optimist. How can these two mix you ask? Well, i'm complex.
As much as I would like to think I deserve happiness, I realize where I am now. I'm 30. I still live at home. I have a serious learning disability, I have PTSD, I'm broke, and mostly jobless. I'm going for a degree in a field that is dying. I know where I stand in the world. And for those of you screaming, "get help." Rest assured, I am. That's all i'll say about that.
But what I will continue to say is that I need too...everyone needs to, at some point put themselves in front of others and take the knife to the chest. I've been far too selfish for far too long and it has gotten me no where. I've let my fears envelop me to a point of almost no return. But, again, partially through the strength of my friends, and partially due to my own un-ending stubbornness, I've become quite adaptable. If nothing else i'll take that as a character development. That and the fact that I am a survivor. I will not quit. Accept that.
Maybe that is why I continue to hope for a peace between me and R.D. Maybe thats why I keep pushing forward where others have failed, where even I have failed. I'm not really sure where I gained that trait, but I'm kinda proud I did.
That is why, when the surge waters were rising, when power was flickering, when the house was creaking and shaking, i took a quick look at my life and was not happy. It was the only time in my life when I actually thought I would die. And I was scared. I was scared that I accomplished nothing. I even asked myself, through tears, as I sat alone, "is this as good as its gonna get?" I fought with myself in the darkness and fear. I sat there for I don't even know how long...and like a crazy person kept telling myself I had to fight for what was better and if I made it out alive to not accept the bad that life gives me.
I've done a little bit since then to improve my situation. I didn't expect a change overnight, and if I did, that would have been foolish.
I did endure a lot in those days, and in the weeks since. I've doubted myself, I've doubted others, but like I said, i'm a survivor. And while i'm proud of that, I don't want to look at situations as something I have to "survive", but as something I can either learn from, or enjoy.
I truly hope I can enjoy the next year. I've always been a bit O.C.D and superstitious, so knowing the number that ends the forthcoming year, I will not try to say it as much, and due to that fact I'll attempt to quicken its pace. But if its pace slows, I truly hope it is for something good.
Even though I said I want good for others, I also want good for myself. I do have a feeling, especially after this year, as though the universe owes me. And owes me big. This being said, I also know that I need to, at least partially make for myself what I want.
What do I want? Happiness, plain and simple. I want to be able to, in a year or so's time, say, "That was a damn good year." And, "it sure is good to see a nice naked gal on my bed." I'd also like to say the following:
"Thank you Mister President, It was an honor to be your driver. Sorry about the dents in the limo."
Or, "Yes, Allstate? I'd like to ensure my Ecto-1."
Or "My name is Luke Crisalli, i'm the photo editor for National Geographic's new NYC division."
Or, "Why yes, i'd be happy to give you my chocolate covered bacon candy."
Like I said. Eternal Optimist.
I watched Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith tonight. While I can now safely say about 95% of the prequels were worse then having a fat lady fall on you on a hot day, the Lightsaber battle at the end of this film resonates with me personally.
Obi-Wan's words, "I have failed you Anakin, I have failed you." remind me of a friendship I lost. This point was especially driven home a few minutes later when he adds, "You were my brother Anakin, I loved you." This friendship was one of slow build, one that took years, but at its apex, it was unlike any other. Both myself and this person...lets call him R.D., were like brothers. A bond that was inseparable...or so I thought.
Like Anakin, R.D. would eventually succumb to the "Dark Side", but not of a fictional "force" per say, no it was of life. Where others found being pushed to be better a good thing and a determining factor in bettering their life, R.D. would be tainted by his achievements, and it gave him the feeling of social and personal invulnerability. This, combined with a mix of drugs and alcohol would serve to be the undoing in our friendship.
This decimation was not all his fault mind you. I do share some of the blame. My own failure to advance myself both socially and mentally was doubtlessly a contributing factor in the downfall of the friendship. I still shoulder this burden to this very day. Not nearly as much as I once did, mainly because I realize that maybe...just maybe the ending was needed. When my mother passed away in 2003, I had wrongly assumed(you know what they say about assuming.) that we could put our troubles aside and he could be there for me. I was wrong. Very wrong, in fact, as his roommate would tell me, "He thinks he's sorry." proved to me just how far gone he was. Then why do I always find myself wanting to go back? Especially when I know it could end catastrophically.
Maybe it is because that, like my so-called namesake, Luke Skywalker realized of his father in "Return of the Jedi", that, "there is still some good in him." Maybe I have that belief in my friend. Now this is not say that R.D. is evil. He has not killed a basket of kittens, nor has he pushed an old lady into oncoming traffic(though after being a paperboy for 7 years I got close a few times.), but he let his larger then life persona get the better of him and became tainted by it.
If anything everyone who knows me well knows I never go about things the easy way. It's another one of my faults. It's why i'm broke and mostly jobless now. It's why I've failed at love. As my many horrible crushes have proven to me, maybe I aim too high. Be it a girl who has stratospheric wealth, or one who has a committed boyfriend, I can never seem to get a foothold on anything within my grasp.
It is this lofty, dream-driven mindset that has likely tired many people close to me, and again, could be a factoring reason in the ending of that friendship.
But from the ashes of that friendship, I have learned how to build anew. This rebuilding has made my life better, especially within the past year. It has been a difficult year to say the VERY least. I liken it to a battle in which I am a lone warrior fighting against an unending army, and every time I sense the battle turning in my favor, another legion of troops is sent my way.
Then, like any good battle, the reinforcements show up, just when they are needed the most. And if that scenario played out in real life, my friends would be those reinforcements. They all, in various ways helped me survive that year, and in doing so showed me once again, that friends are stronger then family.
I'm not the easiest person to know, truer words have likely never been spoken. And everyone can attest to that. For that, I am truly sorry. I know those words likely seem shallow to many, but I speak them with sincerity, for I know my demands, my...sheer unique-ness can drive anyone mad. But, and I know it might be hard to believe, I am doing my best to remedy these faults. It may not come quickly, but I hope it does. I do not enjoy the life I currently live.Now before everyone gets nervous, I ASSURE YOU...I am NOT in any way planning on harming myself or others.
I am not a believer in violence, nor am I a believer in weapons, which, I know will alienate a few, but honestly...I don't give a shit. I've seen far too much horror in my life, nay, in this year to be a proponent in weaponizing the public. In fact, I was never a fan of it, but after the horror I've seen this year, I am even more vehemently opposed to it. I do believe in self defense. I do not believe in putting lead into another human being.
Now I know that many of you think that makes me a peace loving hippie. I am not. Rest assured if you attempt to harm me or those close to me, I will not hesitate to snap your legs into toothpicks, nor will I be ashamed of breaking your nose. Does that make me a hypocrite? Maybe. But I think i'd take far greater satisfaction out of watching someone walk with a limp for the rest of their life then be 6 feet under.
Many scream second amendment. Might I remind you that at the time of the second amendment's writing, no one owned an Uzi, but many owned slaves? In fact I'm fairly certain that if we went back and looked at all the laws written back then, we'd find them to be at best...dated. Maybe it is time we revisit them in an attempt to bring about a day where police officers do not have to deliver horrific news at ones doorstep.
I do not want to see any more photos of anguished people in tears due to tragedy. I want to see tears of joy. The tears that people shed due to absolute unbridled happiness. I want to see photos of troops returning home into the arms of loved ones. I want to see photos of shiny new cars being straddled by sexy models. I want to see photos of people in bliss. There needs to be an end to bitterness, to hatred and bigotry.
The cartoon series, "The Jetsons", envisioned a bright and great future, and it is still within our grasp to attain that future. I know it. I am, at the end of the day an eternal optimist. Maybe this is another one of my faults. But...faults build cracks and the cracks in my give a damn are very close to breaking.
These dams, these barriers that I've set for myself, they've held me back far too long, and in many ways contributed to what I will flatly call, a shitty year. Sure I've had sparks of goodness and joy, but all in all, it was quite shitty. But in spite of that, I have seen some friends have the opposite, and that truly does make me happy. I would easily trade my happiest day to a friend who was having a terrible one. I learned long ago that happiness for me is in all likelihood...unattainable. Now you'll note that a few lines ago I mentioned my penchant for being an optimist. How can these two mix you ask? Well, i'm complex.
As much as I would like to think I deserve happiness, I realize where I am now. I'm 30. I still live at home. I have a serious learning disability, I have PTSD, I'm broke, and mostly jobless. I'm going for a degree in a field that is dying. I know where I stand in the world. And for those of you screaming, "get help." Rest assured, I am. That's all i'll say about that.
But what I will continue to say is that I need too...everyone needs to, at some point put themselves in front of others and take the knife to the chest. I've been far too selfish for far too long and it has gotten me no where. I've let my fears envelop me to a point of almost no return. But, again, partially through the strength of my friends, and partially due to my own un-ending stubbornness, I've become quite adaptable. If nothing else i'll take that as a character development. That and the fact that I am a survivor. I will not quit. Accept that.
Maybe that is why I continue to hope for a peace between me and R.D. Maybe thats why I keep pushing forward where others have failed, where even I have failed. I'm not really sure where I gained that trait, but I'm kinda proud I did.
That is why, when the surge waters were rising, when power was flickering, when the house was creaking and shaking, i took a quick look at my life and was not happy. It was the only time in my life when I actually thought I would die. And I was scared. I was scared that I accomplished nothing. I even asked myself, through tears, as I sat alone, "is this as good as its gonna get?" I fought with myself in the darkness and fear. I sat there for I don't even know how long...and like a crazy person kept telling myself I had to fight for what was better and if I made it out alive to not accept the bad that life gives me.
I've done a little bit since then to improve my situation. I didn't expect a change overnight, and if I did, that would have been foolish.
I did endure a lot in those days, and in the weeks since. I've doubted myself, I've doubted others, but like I said, i'm a survivor. And while i'm proud of that, I don't want to look at situations as something I have to "survive", but as something I can either learn from, or enjoy.
I truly hope I can enjoy the next year. I've always been a bit O.C.D and superstitious, so knowing the number that ends the forthcoming year, I will not try to say it as much, and due to that fact I'll attempt to quicken its pace. But if its pace slows, I truly hope it is for something good.
Even though I said I want good for others, I also want good for myself. I do have a feeling, especially after this year, as though the universe owes me. And owes me big. This being said, I also know that I need to, at least partially make for myself what I want.
What do I want? Happiness, plain and simple. I want to be able to, in a year or so's time, say, "That was a damn good year." And, "it sure is good to see a nice naked gal on my bed." I'd also like to say the following:
"Thank you Mister President, It was an honor to be your driver. Sorry about the dents in the limo."
Or, "Yes, Allstate? I'd like to ensure my Ecto-1."
Or "My name is Luke Crisalli, i'm the photo editor for National Geographic's new NYC division."
Or, "Why yes, i'd be happy to give you my chocolate covered bacon candy."
Like I said. Eternal Optimist.
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
Bookishbelle: Day 4 of Christmas: A Ghostbuster's Holiday
Bookishbelle: Day 4 of Christmas: A Ghostbuster's Holiday: Submitted by Luke Crisalli Every year since 2004, I've been shooting my own Christmas cards, and these are absurdly off the wall hila...
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Richmond
As I sit here and type this, its been…oh…4 weeks since Hurricane or Super storm or whatever they’re calling Sandy struck. It’s been hard. Hard for me, harder still for others.
I…for the longest time have feared this day would come. Some called me a disaster prophesier, some said I was being paranoid. If only you knew how right I wanted them to be. To see what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard in the past few weeks…defies logic and reason. I’ve seen untold devastation and unimaginable horror, all within a relatively small island. This is not to say the rest of the region is unaffected…
The Wednesday night after the storm I finally made my way to a working TV at my friends firehouse, and finally got a visual on what I’d up that point only been hearing via radio. It was worse then I imagined. Far worse. Whole cities, towns…absolutely torn apart. These sights have been repeated in person as I’ve toured the island. I don’t think you can really grasp how bad it is through a tv report or even a photograph…
To say Staten Island is devastated would be understating the obvious. To say that we need help would be an even greater understatement. The island has been completely turned inside out. Our once proud and growing beachfront is all but a memory. Beachfront communities have been completely erased.
I have this fear that it may stay that way. This island…for the longest time has been associated with an acceptance of cynicism of sorts. We’ve accepted that we are forgotten and most people try to leave, yet those that don’t seemingly never accept anything that can improve their lives…that being said, what has been destroyed by Sandy…could stay that way due to the mindset of “why rebuild it if another storm will just knock it over again?” which in turn will leave things to rot and crumble and forever stay that way. I’m almost in that mindset too, and I hate it.
This storm was unlike anything I’ve ever been through. That night, as I sat, alone on my living room floor…power was going in and out. The house was shaking, creaking…power transformers were exploding in front of the house, lines going down, wind howling, trees were going down all over, I thought for sure a tree would come into the house, or onto the house or the wind would blow the roof off…I sat there and I thought “this is it. I’m going to die. Alone.” And I was just…it…its an unsettling thought to be confronted with my own mortality…it was scary honestly. To get down to the basics, it was utterly terrifying. I didn’t want to die. I still don’t, but that night…I thought for sure I was going to. Sure I’d always say jokingly things like “this is the end”, but this time, for sure, I thought it was. And I still don’t know how to deal with it. My life didn’t flash before me like some people say it does. It was just…moments of fear. Fear because I had no control over anything, fear because I was alone, fear because honestly I’m not happy with the way my life has been going.
I asked myself; “Is this as good as it gets?” I’m 30, single, broke, mostly jobless, and going for a degree that many consider to be pointless. So again, I ask myself, Is this as good as it gets? I try and I try to get better, but 30 year olds with a learning disability and a penchant for being a dreamer don’t always win, doesn’t always get the girl or score the winning touchdown…its not all sunshine and happiness. It’s hard. And it’s tiring. And I can’t help but wonder, has the lackadaisical cynicism from this island has seeped into me?
I generally try to find happiness with anything, find that silver lining, that piece of hope, but everywhere I look lately I see destruction, horror and just sadness. It’s hard to find hope. You can see it in the way people walk. People have a gray-ashen look to them.
This is not September 11th. This…in some ways…is a bit worse…or maybe its not. It’s different. It’s not one small part of the city. This affected the whole city. It impacted many lives and will do so for a long time to come. This isn’t something we can just bounce back from in a few months. This isn’t something the government can mess around with and leave sitting there while they squabble, this is something that needs to be addressed soon, otherwise it will define us, and honestly I’m tired of being defined by tragedy and terrible things. For the longest time, it’s been, for this island, defined by a damn a garbage dump. Not parkland, pizza, families and mom and pop stores as it should be…no, one stupid piece of land, and it sickens me. And what do we get after that? A TV show that of course picks up on the worst and the dumbest, not the best and the brightest.
You see, that’s my life too. For the longest time, I’ve been defined, by some, in a bad way as weak, inattentive, and too much of a dreamer. I have been singled out as too focused on what I want and enjoy, and been mocked, ridiculed and taken endless hours of shit for it, and ya know what? I’m tired of it, and I honestly don’t care anymore. If I’m known for something, I just want it to be something that I view as good, something I think can better the world, and if I’m considered a dreamer for it, then good. At least I have dreams.
I…for the longest time have feared this day would come. Some called me a disaster prophesier, some said I was being paranoid. If only you knew how right I wanted them to be. To see what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard in the past few weeks…defies logic and reason. I’ve seen untold devastation and unimaginable horror, all within a relatively small island. This is not to say the rest of the region is unaffected…
The Wednesday night after the storm I finally made my way to a working TV at my friends firehouse, and finally got a visual on what I’d up that point only been hearing via radio. It was worse then I imagined. Far worse. Whole cities, towns…absolutely torn apart. These sights have been repeated in person as I’ve toured the island. I don’t think you can really grasp how bad it is through a tv report or even a photograph…
To say Staten Island is devastated would be understating the obvious. To say that we need help would be an even greater understatement. The island has been completely turned inside out. Our once proud and growing beachfront is all but a memory. Beachfront communities have been completely erased.
I have this fear that it may stay that way. This island…for the longest time has been associated with an acceptance of cynicism of sorts. We’ve accepted that we are forgotten and most people try to leave, yet those that don’t seemingly never accept anything that can improve their lives…that being said, what has been destroyed by Sandy…could stay that way due to the mindset of “why rebuild it if another storm will just knock it over again?” which in turn will leave things to rot and crumble and forever stay that way. I’m almost in that mindset too, and I hate it.
This storm was unlike anything I’ve ever been through. That night, as I sat, alone on my living room floor…power was going in and out. The house was shaking, creaking…power transformers were exploding in front of the house, lines going down, wind howling, trees were going down all over, I thought for sure a tree would come into the house, or onto the house or the wind would blow the roof off…I sat there and I thought “this is it. I’m going to die. Alone.” And I was just…it…its an unsettling thought to be confronted with my own mortality…it was scary honestly. To get down to the basics, it was utterly terrifying. I didn’t want to die. I still don’t, but that night…I thought for sure I was going to. Sure I’d always say jokingly things like “this is the end”, but this time, for sure, I thought it was. And I still don’t know how to deal with it. My life didn’t flash before me like some people say it does. It was just…moments of fear. Fear because I had no control over anything, fear because I was alone, fear because honestly I’m not happy with the way my life has been going.
I asked myself; “Is this as good as it gets?” I’m 30, single, broke, mostly jobless, and going for a degree that many consider to be pointless. So again, I ask myself, Is this as good as it gets? I try and I try to get better, but 30 year olds with a learning disability and a penchant for being a dreamer don’t always win, doesn’t always get the girl or score the winning touchdown…its not all sunshine and happiness. It’s hard. And it’s tiring. And I can’t help but wonder, has the lackadaisical cynicism from this island has seeped into me?
I generally try to find happiness with anything, find that silver lining, that piece of hope, but everywhere I look lately I see destruction, horror and just sadness. It’s hard to find hope. You can see it in the way people walk. People have a gray-ashen look to them.
This is not September 11th. This…in some ways…is a bit worse…or maybe its not. It’s different. It’s not one small part of the city. This affected the whole city. It impacted many lives and will do so for a long time to come. This isn’t something we can just bounce back from in a few months. This isn’t something the government can mess around with and leave sitting there while they squabble, this is something that needs to be addressed soon, otherwise it will define us, and honestly I’m tired of being defined by tragedy and terrible things. For the longest time, it’s been, for this island, defined by a damn a garbage dump. Not parkland, pizza, families and mom and pop stores as it should be…no, one stupid piece of land, and it sickens me. And what do we get after that? A TV show that of course picks up on the worst and the dumbest, not the best and the brightest.
You see, that’s my life too. For the longest time, I’ve been defined, by some, in a bad way as weak, inattentive, and too much of a dreamer. I have been singled out as too focused on what I want and enjoy, and been mocked, ridiculed and taken endless hours of shit for it, and ya know what? I’m tired of it, and I honestly don’t care anymore. If I’m known for something, I just want it to be something that I view as good, something I think can better the world, and if I’m considered a dreamer for it, then good. At least I have dreams.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Legion
About 3 weeks ago, I attended a funeral for a man whom I considered to be a friend. Maybe not the closest friend, but still, a friend nonetheless. That man was Larry Sullivan, from FDNY Rescue Company 5, in Grassmere.
At this funeral, bagpipes were played, flags were flown and the masses stood at attention and saluted.
It was a scene that was all to familiar to not only myself, but especially the residents of Staten Island. While some may choose not remember that day, eleven years ago. I, along with many others, remember it well. It is a day that is literally burned into our memory. It is a day where I saw my city, my home, my family, my friends attacked without reason.
It is a day I cannot-and do not want to forget. I could dwell on the horror, and I will admit, sometimes I do, even eleven years later. Things like that don't leave your mind. Sometimes, when I close my eyes at night, I still see that one burning building standing. It was a sight so alien to me that I still can’t comprehend it. I see it belching thick black smoke, then I blink, and it too is gone, becoming one with the cloud that surrounded it. Sometimes I still smell it too. And that for some reason has stuck with me just as much as the images have. It was a smell unlike any other. I suppose the best way to describe it is gunpowder mixed with something…and everyone knew what that something was, but no one wanted to say it.
That eerie silence overtook us for a while. It was almost louder then the explosions that created the day. I could remember the terror, the fear, but I choose not too, because amidst the chaos, something remarkable happened. A different kind of explosion, a new kind of fire. It was the fire of determination.
Determination to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and help one another. Being a New Yorker, hell, being a Staten Islander suddenly carried more of pride then it ever had before. We all saw the images. People digging with buckets, people waving flags, offering blood, water, food, anything to rescue workers. Those people did not ask to help. They just did it. Others saw that and followed suit.
And so can the rest of us. That has to be what we take away from that day, not horror, but human compassion. We don’t need an attack or a tragedy to help people. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “it takes a tragedy to bring us together.” It honestly makes me angry. We are a good people, we always wish to be, we shouldn't need a horrific event to bring us together.
A lot of people wait until this time of year, then they start waving flags and yellow ribbons and “never forget” banners. Then a week or two passes and what happens? They forget. The cynicism returns, and it makes me angry. You don’t have to mourn every day, but for crying out loud, be a decent human. That’s what I think the true meaning of “never forget” should be, that’s how it should resonate.
Maybe i'm just a blue eyed dreamer who believes that superheroes can walk among us, albeit in the form of real people, but thats a hope that I believe everyone should cling to, if for nothing else then to teach us that somewhere, deep inside us, lies that primal urge to do good for no other reason then us simply realizing its morally correct.
Whatever happened to just helping someone who dropped a book or holding a door open for someone just because it was the right thing to do? What about smiling at someone who is having a bad day? Small things in theory, sure, and it might not be the same as helping at a disaster site, but you can be damn sure that the person you helped will appreciate it, at least a little. People on this island, hell-on this planet very often like to talk a big game and act tougher then they truly are. Instead putting on this act, how about we all step our game up, become decent humans, and let that be the true face of the world?
Its not about religion, its not about politics, its not about whos gay or straight, its about doing whats decent, about being decent. Being a friend. One of the good things I can take away from that time was the friendships I either rekindled or begun, and ones I still cherish.
So instead of spending this time mourning, go be a friend, to anyone, they'll appreciate it. It may turn into something excellent. George Washington once said, "True friendship is a plant of slow grow, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation." That is what the day should be about, friendship and compassion. That is how you honor those you loved and lost. They'd appreciate it. I know I do.
At this funeral, bagpipes were played, flags were flown and the masses stood at attention and saluted.
It was a scene that was all to familiar to not only myself, but especially the residents of Staten Island. While some may choose not remember that day, eleven years ago. I, along with many others, remember it well. It is a day that is literally burned into our memory. It is a day where I saw my city, my home, my family, my friends attacked without reason.
It is a day I cannot-and do not want to forget. I could dwell on the horror, and I will admit, sometimes I do, even eleven years later. Things like that don't leave your mind. Sometimes, when I close my eyes at night, I still see that one burning building standing. It was a sight so alien to me that I still can’t comprehend it. I see it belching thick black smoke, then I blink, and it too is gone, becoming one with the cloud that surrounded it. Sometimes I still smell it too. And that for some reason has stuck with me just as much as the images have. It was a smell unlike any other. I suppose the best way to describe it is gunpowder mixed with something…and everyone knew what that something was, but no one wanted to say it.
That eerie silence overtook us for a while. It was almost louder then the explosions that created the day. I could remember the terror, the fear, but I choose not too, because amidst the chaos, something remarkable happened. A different kind of explosion, a new kind of fire. It was the fire of determination.
Determination to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and help one another. Being a New Yorker, hell, being a Staten Islander suddenly carried more of pride then it ever had before. We all saw the images. People digging with buckets, people waving flags, offering blood, water, food, anything to rescue workers. Those people did not ask to help. They just did it. Others saw that and followed suit.
And so can the rest of us. That has to be what we take away from that day, not horror, but human compassion. We don’t need an attack or a tragedy to help people. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “it takes a tragedy to bring us together.” It honestly makes me angry. We are a good people, we always wish to be, we shouldn't need a horrific event to bring us together.
A lot of people wait until this time of year, then they start waving flags and yellow ribbons and “never forget” banners. Then a week or two passes and what happens? They forget. The cynicism returns, and it makes me angry. You don’t have to mourn every day, but for crying out loud, be a decent human. That’s what I think the true meaning of “never forget” should be, that’s how it should resonate.
Maybe i'm just a blue eyed dreamer who believes that superheroes can walk among us, albeit in the form of real people, but thats a hope that I believe everyone should cling to, if for nothing else then to teach us that somewhere, deep inside us, lies that primal urge to do good for no other reason then us simply realizing its morally correct.
Whatever happened to just helping someone who dropped a book or holding a door open for someone just because it was the right thing to do? What about smiling at someone who is having a bad day? Small things in theory, sure, and it might not be the same as helping at a disaster site, but you can be damn sure that the person you helped will appreciate it, at least a little. People on this island, hell-on this planet very often like to talk a big game and act tougher then they truly are. Instead putting on this act, how about we all step our game up, become decent humans, and let that be the true face of the world?
Its not about religion, its not about politics, its not about whos gay or straight, its about doing whats decent, about being decent. Being a friend. One of the good things I can take away from that time was the friendships I either rekindled or begun, and ones I still cherish.
So instead of spending this time mourning, go be a friend, to anyone, they'll appreciate it. It may turn into something excellent. George Washington once said, "True friendship is a plant of slow grow, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation." That is what the day should be about, friendship and compassion. That is how you honor those you loved and lost. They'd appreciate it. I know I do.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Soliloquy For The Silent
Later today I will be attending a funeral. I, probably like many, do not like funerals. I...generally do not like being in sad, depressing situations. Thats what I think most funerals are.
Lately, much of my life has been a sad, depressing situation, partially of my own faults, my extreme exacting taste being one, my self doubt and lack of confidence are also a contributing factor. Many people, close friends and brief acquaintances have offered advice and tips on how best to combat these things, but this is a battle I must fight my self.
The man that I will be honoring later today was nothing like me. He was a strong, courageous man, and though I did not know Larry Sullivan as well as I would have liked, I knew him to have a smile and determination that could posses a hundred men.
Larry's time working in the FDNY's elite, Staten Island proud Rescue Company 5 saw him battle everything from house fires to car wrecks. Every day he worked, not knowing what he would face, not knowing the outcome, yet he pushed through and carried his head high, proud to represent his company, his department, and his city.
You see, it takes a certain breed of person to not just live in this city, but to thrive, for as Frank Sinatra proudly said, "If I can make it there, i'll make it anywhere..."
Larry Sullivan made it here. He may not walk among us anymore, but he lives inside each and every New Yorker, past present and future. Thankfully, his is one fire that cannot be - should not be extinguished, because his fire has stoked, at least in my mind, a quiet determination to not let my shortcomings own me, but to let my strengths and quirks define me.
Larry, if I become a quarter of the man you were, i'll consider that one hell of an achievement. I'm proud to have been in your presence, to have shaken your hand, and most of all, to have known what a great and excellent man you were, and always will be.
Lately, much of my life has been a sad, depressing situation, partially of my own faults, my extreme exacting taste being one, my self doubt and lack of confidence are also a contributing factor. Many people, close friends and brief acquaintances have offered advice and tips on how best to combat these things, but this is a battle I must fight my self.
The man that I will be honoring later today was nothing like me. He was a strong, courageous man, and though I did not know Larry Sullivan as well as I would have liked, I knew him to have a smile and determination that could posses a hundred men.
Larry's time working in the FDNY's elite, Staten Island proud Rescue Company 5 saw him battle everything from house fires to car wrecks. Every day he worked, not knowing what he would face, not knowing the outcome, yet he pushed through and carried his head high, proud to represent his company, his department, and his city.
You see, it takes a certain breed of person to not just live in this city, but to thrive, for as Frank Sinatra proudly said, "If I can make it there, i'll make it anywhere..."
Larry Sullivan made it here. He may not walk among us anymore, but he lives inside each and every New Yorker, past present and future. Thankfully, his is one fire that cannot be - should not be extinguished, because his fire has stoked, at least in my mind, a quiet determination to not let my shortcomings own me, but to let my strengths and quirks define me.
Larry, if I become a quarter of the man you were, i'll consider that one hell of an achievement. I'm proud to have been in your presence, to have shaken your hand, and most of all, to have known what a great and excellent man you were, and always will be.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Tomorrow, Thursday, June 21, 2012, I will be old. It still warps my brain thinking about it. I've walked the Earth for thirty years. How is that possible?
Despite the learning disability that prevents me from remembering things from time to time and sends my mind down more avenues then a greedy cab driver, I can still recall, for some very odd reason, looking up from my crib when I was maybe 3 or 4 years old. There was a red light on a stereo or some other device in my parents old house in the South Beach section here on Staten Island.
That might be one of the first memories I can still vividly recall. Why? Who knows....maybe its something that's supposed to correlate with my desire to become a New York City firefighter. Red lights ya know? Yeah, everyone goes to the "Red Light District", but if you know me for even 3 minutes, you know I'm nothing like "everyone."
To say i'm...different...that would be the understatement of a lifetime. Eccentric? Oh yeah. Bizarre? Maybe. Weird? Yep. Off The Wall? Got that covered. Outside of the box? I can't even see the box.
These things...these idiosyncrasies are something I've not only created for myself, but they're also something that have come to define me, for better or worse. They annoy some, amuse others.
I'm not living an ideal life with these traits, but I'm by no means living an abysmal one. You see, if any time period has had an effect on me, it'd be the past 15 years. An odd number to be sure, even odder by the fact I really, really friggin hate numbers and hate math. I find it to be the unwanted cousin of the alphabet. Math is about as useful to me as a push-up bra(Which, if I give up on my workout routine, will actually become more useful then math...Hello man boobs.).
In the past fifteen years, I've seen fire, I've seen rain...wait...I'm not James Taylor...but, I have seen fire, I have seen rain. I've seen death, I've seen war, I've seen the absolute worst of humanity and the absolute best in humanity, I've seen more then I should have seen...but I gained knowledge and insight from all of it.
I've become very humbled you could say. Watching your own mother pass away can do that to a person I suppose. Literally seeing someone wither from a strong person to a frail shadow of a human like that had an incredibly profound impact on me. I had many a person at that time tell me that I wasn't dealing with it properly. Well, if anyone knew me, my mother, my father and the way our family structure worked, they'd know that we deal with things differently. Moreover, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE deals with things differently. I don't care if you are identical twins who dress the same into your forties, every person is an individual. Everyone handles situations in a way that alternates from one person to the next. So to say I didn't handle it the "correct way" is something that kind of irks me. Does it still hurt? Absolutely. It will hurt till my eyes close for the final time, 34,068 years from now(I'm straightedge, so I will naturally outlive everyone except Trumps hairpiece and the roaches in Grand Central.). Do I still have a tough time dealing with it? Absolutely. I still can't walk into her bedroom and its been nearly nine years. Does it make me weak? Maybe, but I rarely had a reason to go in there to begin with.
But if I hinged on the sadness of that situation, I wouldn't be who I am today. It hurt, but so does getting a golf club to the crotch, but if there's anything Bob Saget and Americas Funniest Home Videos taught us, its that laughter is the best medicine...as is $10,000. Seeing as how I don't have access to a golf club and a willing between-the-legs target, I 'll settle for laughter. I spent enough time, especially in those days, feeling sorry for myself. And that didn't help.
Laughter can be a great escape, especially in trying times. I can't tell you how many times I find myself in a rut and then I remind myself...somewhere in the world, some poor schlub is getting hit in the face with a pie. I remind myself of that and I smile. Then I realize I need to see a dentist. Remember early on in this Gettysburg speech when I told you my mind runs in more directions then a 7 year old in "Toys R Us"? Prime example right there.
I guess that's one of the reasons I'm still single, no girl in her right mind could keep up with my intensity and insanity. Or maybe we just haven't found each other yet. This despite the fact I would have love in an elevator and do anything for love. Did I just reference Aerosmith and Meatloaf songs? Oh yes. I'm appealing to the girls who quote music every .23 seconds. Except most girls probably don't know who Aerosmith and Meatloaf are...not that I'll be getting a job at Rolling Stone or want one anyway. That is another problem people seem to think I have and one I may agree with them on.
I've had seven jobs and about four internships or internship-like jobs. I've liked most of them for a grand total of one paycheck until they turned miserable. And by miserable, I mean imagine a sweaty fat man falling on you in July. In Phoenix. Now I've had many a person come up to me and say "you need to work really crappy jobs before you get something you like, even if its a paycheck. Just work." A lot of those people are old and either are working in a job they've always hated or retired from a job they've always really hated. I've done my time, unlike Roger Clemens, Charlie Sheen and Celine Dion(I friggin hate that song and you know which i'm talking about, she shoulda done 15-20 for it.), I've been crapped on by the workforce for so long just to almost scrape by and ya know what, I'm tired of it. I want to get paid for doing what I love. Why is that such a horrible thing in peoples eyes? I think the miserable naysayers are just so willing to let the world steamroll them that they want everyone to be as miserable as them. Not me, no way. I 'm far better, and not afraid to admit it.
Its not super-ego, its ego, and a bit of that can take you far. Don't ever accept something that you feel is beneath you or is simply something you don't want. You put your effort in, you deserve better. Listen to me, I'm not Bill Clinton, but I am Hugh Heffner, except, ya know, minus the seven blondes. Just one will do. Or a redhead. Or a brunette, I'm not picky. Now with that anyway.
Thirty is scary. It's indescribably scary. Everyone always says "Age is just a number." Know what? Those people are really friggin stupid and likely kidding themselves the same way Penguins think they can fly. Its scary for reasons that can't easily be described. But, just like twenty, hell, just like ten, its what you make of it. The impression that I get is that you're supposed to fit into some kind of a mold by this age.
I suppose I could choose to sit at home, pay some bills, plan for a 401K(Whatever the hell that is.), research bond and or mutual funds, and even find a really good organic dressing to put on my salad(despite the fact I hate salad)...
...Or...I could grab my camera(s) and shoot some excellent photos of friends dressed like superheroes, pay $30 for a box of Lego(still the all time greatest stress reliever/creative tool EVER CREATED), plan a killer road trip, or find something to deep fry and or cover in chocolate(then openly regret it as I sit in front of toilet later while internally planning to do it again in 6 hours.)
I think we all know what I'm going to choose. And to those who don't know, either stop reading now or look at the Ghostbusters logos that adorn the car I proudly drive. Yes, I am Luke Crisalli, I'm turning thirty, and i'm a geek, and damn freaking proud of it. I'm odd, I'm eccentric, I'm bonkers, bollocks and loony, I'm against the grain and sometimes off the wall. I'm more authentic then Levi's, I'm sweeter then Lemonheads, and more complex then a 500 piece puzzle of blue sky, I'm intensely nostalgic. I'm a child of the 80's, I'm a downloader, but not an upgrader. I'm an atheist and an independent, but not defined by either. I'm a turtle lovin, bacon eatin' one of a kind guy. I didn't just break the mold, I vaporized the factory that made the mold.
Thirty? Bring it on.
Despite the learning disability that prevents me from remembering things from time to time and sends my mind down more avenues then a greedy cab driver, I can still recall, for some very odd reason, looking up from my crib when I was maybe 3 or 4 years old. There was a red light on a stereo or some other device in my parents old house in the South Beach section here on Staten Island.
That might be one of the first memories I can still vividly recall. Why? Who knows....maybe its something that's supposed to correlate with my desire to become a New York City firefighter. Red lights ya know? Yeah, everyone goes to the "Red Light District", but if you know me for even 3 minutes, you know I'm nothing like "everyone."
To say i'm...different...that would be the understatement of a lifetime. Eccentric? Oh yeah. Bizarre? Maybe. Weird? Yep. Off The Wall? Got that covered. Outside of the box? I can't even see the box.
These things...these idiosyncrasies are something I've not only created for myself, but they're also something that have come to define me, for better or worse. They annoy some, amuse others.
I'm not living an ideal life with these traits, but I'm by no means living an abysmal one. You see, if any time period has had an effect on me, it'd be the past 15 years. An odd number to be sure, even odder by the fact I really, really friggin hate numbers and hate math. I find it to be the unwanted cousin of the alphabet. Math is about as useful to me as a push-up bra(Which, if I give up on my workout routine, will actually become more useful then math...Hello man boobs.).
In the past fifteen years, I've seen fire, I've seen rain...wait...I'm not James Taylor...but, I have seen fire, I have seen rain. I've seen death, I've seen war, I've seen the absolute worst of humanity and the absolute best in humanity, I've seen more then I should have seen...but I gained knowledge and insight from all of it.
I've become very humbled you could say. Watching your own mother pass away can do that to a person I suppose. Literally seeing someone wither from a strong person to a frail shadow of a human like that had an incredibly profound impact on me. I had many a person at that time tell me that I wasn't dealing with it properly. Well, if anyone knew me, my mother, my father and the way our family structure worked, they'd know that we deal with things differently. Moreover, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE deals with things differently. I don't care if you are identical twins who dress the same into your forties, every person is an individual. Everyone handles situations in a way that alternates from one person to the next. So to say I didn't handle it the "correct way" is something that kind of irks me. Does it still hurt? Absolutely. It will hurt till my eyes close for the final time, 34,068 years from now(I'm straightedge, so I will naturally outlive everyone except Trumps hairpiece and the roaches in Grand Central.). Do I still have a tough time dealing with it? Absolutely. I still can't walk into her bedroom and its been nearly nine years. Does it make me weak? Maybe, but I rarely had a reason to go in there to begin with.
But if I hinged on the sadness of that situation, I wouldn't be who I am today. It hurt, but so does getting a golf club to the crotch, but if there's anything Bob Saget and Americas Funniest Home Videos taught us, its that laughter is the best medicine...as is $10,000. Seeing as how I don't have access to a golf club and a willing between-the-legs target, I 'll settle for laughter. I spent enough time, especially in those days, feeling sorry for myself. And that didn't help.
Laughter can be a great escape, especially in trying times. I can't tell you how many times I find myself in a rut and then I remind myself...somewhere in the world, some poor schlub is getting hit in the face with a pie. I remind myself of that and I smile. Then I realize I need to see a dentist. Remember early on in this Gettysburg speech when I told you my mind runs in more directions then a 7 year old in "Toys R Us"? Prime example right there.
I guess that's one of the reasons I'm still single, no girl in her right mind could keep up with my intensity and insanity. Or maybe we just haven't found each other yet. This despite the fact I would have love in an elevator and do anything for love. Did I just reference Aerosmith and Meatloaf songs? Oh yes. I'm appealing to the girls who quote music every .23 seconds. Except most girls probably don't know who Aerosmith and Meatloaf are...not that I'll be getting a job at Rolling Stone or want one anyway. That is another problem people seem to think I have and one I may agree with them on.
I've had seven jobs and about four internships or internship-like jobs. I've liked most of them for a grand total of one paycheck until they turned miserable. And by miserable, I mean imagine a sweaty fat man falling on you in July. In Phoenix. Now I've had many a person come up to me and say "you need to work really crappy jobs before you get something you like, even if its a paycheck. Just work." A lot of those people are old and either are working in a job they've always hated or retired from a job they've always really hated. I've done my time, unlike Roger Clemens, Charlie Sheen and Celine Dion(I friggin hate that song and you know which i'm talking about, she shoulda done 15-20 for it.), I've been crapped on by the workforce for so long just to almost scrape by and ya know what, I'm tired of it. I want to get paid for doing what I love. Why is that such a horrible thing in peoples eyes? I think the miserable naysayers are just so willing to let the world steamroll them that they want everyone to be as miserable as them. Not me, no way. I 'm far better, and not afraid to admit it.
Its not super-ego, its ego, and a bit of that can take you far. Don't ever accept something that you feel is beneath you or is simply something you don't want. You put your effort in, you deserve better. Listen to me, I'm not Bill Clinton, but I am Hugh Heffner, except, ya know, minus the seven blondes. Just one will do. Or a redhead. Or a brunette, I'm not picky. Now with that anyway.
Thirty is scary. It's indescribably scary. Everyone always says "Age is just a number." Know what? Those people are really friggin stupid and likely kidding themselves the same way Penguins think they can fly. Its scary for reasons that can't easily be described. But, just like twenty, hell, just like ten, its what you make of it. The impression that I get is that you're supposed to fit into some kind of a mold by this age.
I suppose I could choose to sit at home, pay some bills, plan for a 401K(Whatever the hell that is.), research bond and or mutual funds, and even find a really good organic dressing to put on my salad(despite the fact I hate salad)...
...Or...I could grab my camera(s) and shoot some excellent photos of friends dressed like superheroes, pay $30 for a box of Lego(still the all time greatest stress reliever/creative tool EVER CREATED), plan a killer road trip, or find something to deep fry and or cover in chocolate(then openly regret it as I sit in front of toilet later while internally planning to do it again in 6 hours.)
I think we all know what I'm going to choose. And to those who don't know, either stop reading now or look at the Ghostbusters logos that adorn the car I proudly drive. Yes, I am Luke Crisalli, I'm turning thirty, and i'm a geek, and damn freaking proud of it. I'm odd, I'm eccentric, I'm bonkers, bollocks and loony, I'm against the grain and sometimes off the wall. I'm more authentic then Levi's, I'm sweeter then Lemonheads, and more complex then a 500 piece puzzle of blue sky, I'm intensely nostalgic. I'm a child of the 80's, I'm a downloader, but not an upgrader. I'm an atheist and an independent, but not defined by either. I'm a turtle lovin, bacon eatin' one of a kind guy. I didn't just break the mold, I vaporized the factory that made the mold.
Thirty? Bring it on.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
I feel like I just battled an army. This semester has been remarkably tough and long, and it was through no fault but my own. I'm physically, mentally and emotionally drained past the point of exhaustion. I feel empty, i feel depressed and i'm not sure why. I suppose I should feel accomplished, but until I get my grades, I don't think I can rest easy. Even then I still have that summer class, and after that, only about 2 months till the fall kicks my ass, but ya know what? Bring it on.
I started this semester filled with a ton of uncertainty, and while I still have it, I know that I put in all the effort possible, which is maybe why i'm tired. Nothing worth having, worth wanting is ever easy. That's just the way it is, and i'm OK with that. I feel better knowing I did everything I could have.
And I also feel better knowing I met some real great people in the past five months. They know who they are, and they're all good and decent people. And i'm very happy to call them all friends.
I'm also happy to call friends those who will be moving on to better and greater things. These people have the talent, drive and desire to accomplish excellent things, and I know that they will do just that.
And i'm also happy to have the friends that I've known for a while, the ones who will do anything for you. These are special people and great ones, and they're really just the best of the best.
I know that i'm not an easy person to know. I have my issues, I have my pitfalls, I have my faults, I'm eccentric, I'm picky and I obsess, but somehow, all of you make me being me a bit easier. Everyone of you that I can call friend...I really do feel luckier knowing you. You have no idea how much I really do value all of you. Thank you all for being there for me. And I promise, I will always be there for all of you. Lets all enjoy a few months off, then kick some ass come the fall. I'll bring the chocolate...and yes, the bacon too.
I started this semester filled with a ton of uncertainty, and while I still have it, I know that I put in all the effort possible, which is maybe why i'm tired. Nothing worth having, worth wanting is ever easy. That's just the way it is, and i'm OK with that. I feel better knowing I did everything I could have.
And I also feel better knowing I met some real great people in the past five months. They know who they are, and they're all good and decent people. And i'm very happy to call them all friends.
I'm also happy to call friends those who will be moving on to better and greater things. These people have the talent, drive and desire to accomplish excellent things, and I know that they will do just that.
And i'm also happy to have the friends that I've known for a while, the ones who will do anything for you. These are special people and great ones, and they're really just the best of the best.
I know that i'm not an easy person to know. I have my issues, I have my pitfalls, I have my faults, I'm eccentric, I'm picky and I obsess, but somehow, all of you make me being me a bit easier. Everyone of you that I can call friend...I really do feel luckier knowing you. You have no idea how much I really do value all of you. Thank you all for being there for me. And I promise, I will always be there for all of you. Lets all enjoy a few months off, then kick some ass come the fall. I'll bring the chocolate...and yes, the bacon too.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
In a little over 20 minutes, 100 years ago the course of human history changed forever when over 1,500 people lost their lives in the bitter chill of a North Atlantic night.
23 years ago, a simple book changed a good part of my life and would intertwine me with one of the greatest stories in human history, albeit one of its most saddening.
The book was "Exploring the Titanic" by Dr. Robert Ballard. My reasoning for getting the book actually stems from another love of mine, Ghostbusters. You see, there was a part in "Ghostbusters 2" where New York, under siege from the netherworld finally gets to see the wreck of Titanic dock...in spectral form of course.
Fast forward to a few months later when I was in 2nd grade at P.S. 11 here on Staten Island. Every so often we would get these 3-4 page book order forms. Me being a book nut(something that also still hasn't changed.) saw Dr. Ballard's book and immediately reminded myself "Thats the ship from the movie!"
About 2 weeks later the book arrived and so began one of the things I will undoubtedly always be remembered for.
I'm not sure whether or not thats a good thing however. How morbid it is to be associated with one of the worlds greatest tragedies? People often come up to me, especially lately and ask me what it is about the Titanic that still draws me in all these years later.
There are a multitude of answers to give.
The one that sticks the most is Hubris. The fact that we as a society back then and especially now think of ourselves as the great and powerful human race, with great and powerful things to show for it...but where has it really gotten us?
Back then Hubris cost more than 1,500 lives and showed the world that despite the great achievements of humankind, nature will still prevail over all. We are not forever. Thats not meant to be a morbid statement, and i'm sorry if thats how it is taken but it is true.
That hubris still lives within us all today, this very day in fact. I've been watching the coverage of the massive severe weather outbreak in the midwest and can't help but think of the unlucky people who build homes on the cheap, just to beat a deadline, only to see natures fury rip the house from the ground with a family inside of it, yet we praise modern building methods.
We as a race of people are not "unsinkable", as some thought the Titanic to be. Instead of trying to control nature, we need to better understand it and work within its parameters.
We are a great people, just as we were back then, but we let our ego and our Id get the best of us sometimes. We have this great idea of a utopian society, yet we can't stop bickering about petty things long enough to realize that gets nothing done. Arguing for the sake of arguing is not proving ones point, its prolonging ineptitude.
If the Titanic proved anything, its that we can't have these class wars in society. That iceberg, that chilled water did not discriminate between rich and poor. It took who it took, regardless of who they may be.
It's for reasons such as those I can't help but scoff at the idea of our people having any effect on the outcome of the planets future. As I said, the severe weather in the midwest proves that if the Earth doesn't want us, it will find a way to get rid of us. The Earth does not beleive in climate change. Before the human race was what it is today, this planet made its way through the solar system as a black boiling ball of rock, and it did it just fine.
We aren't trying to save Earth, we're trying to save the Human race. We're so afraid of our own future that we've given up on trying to save ourselves and have instead pawned off our problem and blamed it on the planet. How much ego is involved there?
Probably a little less than the one that sideswiped an iceberg.
There is however hope.
There is always, ALWAYS HOPE. We can all start acting like decent, normal, good humans again. Going out of your way to hold a door open does actually do a little bit in the world, despite what you may think. A groundswell movement doesn't begin with an uproar, it begins with a ripple. And I know that we as a people are capable of this. We're not lost. I have full belief that we can learn from our mistakes and missteps.
Cynicism never got a damned thing accomplished, hope did. It was with that hope in mind that Captain Arthur Rostron ordered his ship, R.M.S. Carpathia to steam to the site of Titanics last position and begin rescue efforts, despite his being 58 miles away...which, back in 1912, was essentially a light world away.
This man did not just heed the call, he went above and beyond. This is something that we are all capable of doing. We're not helpless, we're lazy. And that goes for me too. The sooner we stop being lazy, the sooner we stop ACTING helpless, the more we can get done for the betterment of humanity. We act high and mighty, but when it comes down to it, few of us follow through with it. Now is the time for that to change. It's up to you.
23 years ago, a simple book changed a good part of my life and would intertwine me with one of the greatest stories in human history, albeit one of its most saddening.
The book was "Exploring the Titanic" by Dr. Robert Ballard. My reasoning for getting the book actually stems from another love of mine, Ghostbusters. You see, there was a part in "Ghostbusters 2" where New York, under siege from the netherworld finally gets to see the wreck of Titanic dock...in spectral form of course.
Fast forward to a few months later when I was in 2nd grade at P.S. 11 here on Staten Island. Every so often we would get these 3-4 page book order forms. Me being a book nut(something that also still hasn't changed.) saw Dr. Ballard's book and immediately reminded myself "Thats the ship from the movie!"
About 2 weeks later the book arrived and so began one of the things I will undoubtedly always be remembered for.
I'm not sure whether or not thats a good thing however. How morbid it is to be associated with one of the worlds greatest tragedies? People often come up to me, especially lately and ask me what it is about the Titanic that still draws me in all these years later.
There are a multitude of answers to give.
The one that sticks the most is Hubris. The fact that we as a society back then and especially now think of ourselves as the great and powerful human race, with great and powerful things to show for it...but where has it really gotten us?
Back then Hubris cost more than 1,500 lives and showed the world that despite the great achievements of humankind, nature will still prevail over all. We are not forever. Thats not meant to be a morbid statement, and i'm sorry if thats how it is taken but it is true.
That hubris still lives within us all today, this very day in fact. I've been watching the coverage of the massive severe weather outbreak in the midwest and can't help but think of the unlucky people who build homes on the cheap, just to beat a deadline, only to see natures fury rip the house from the ground with a family inside of it, yet we praise modern building methods.
We as a race of people are not "unsinkable", as some thought the Titanic to be. Instead of trying to control nature, we need to better understand it and work within its parameters.
We are a great people, just as we were back then, but we let our ego and our Id get the best of us sometimes. We have this great idea of a utopian society, yet we can't stop bickering about petty things long enough to realize that gets nothing done. Arguing for the sake of arguing is not proving ones point, its prolonging ineptitude.
If the Titanic proved anything, its that we can't have these class wars in society. That iceberg, that chilled water did not discriminate between rich and poor. It took who it took, regardless of who they may be.
It's for reasons such as those I can't help but scoff at the idea of our people having any effect on the outcome of the planets future. As I said, the severe weather in the midwest proves that if the Earth doesn't want us, it will find a way to get rid of us. The Earth does not beleive in climate change. Before the human race was what it is today, this planet made its way through the solar system as a black boiling ball of rock, and it did it just fine.
We aren't trying to save Earth, we're trying to save the Human race. We're so afraid of our own future that we've given up on trying to save ourselves and have instead pawned off our problem and blamed it on the planet. How much ego is involved there?
Probably a little less than the one that sideswiped an iceberg.
There is however hope.
There is always, ALWAYS HOPE. We can all start acting like decent, normal, good humans again. Going out of your way to hold a door open does actually do a little bit in the world, despite what you may think. A groundswell movement doesn't begin with an uproar, it begins with a ripple. And I know that we as a people are capable of this. We're not lost. I have full belief that we can learn from our mistakes and missteps.
Cynicism never got a damned thing accomplished, hope did. It was with that hope in mind that Captain Arthur Rostron ordered his ship, R.M.S. Carpathia to steam to the site of Titanics last position and begin rescue efforts, despite his being 58 miles away...which, back in 1912, was essentially a light world away.
This man did not just heed the call, he went above and beyond. This is something that we are all capable of doing. We're not helpless, we're lazy. And that goes for me too. The sooner we stop being lazy, the sooner we stop ACTING helpless, the more we can get done for the betterment of humanity. We act high and mighty, but when it comes down to it, few of us follow through with it. Now is the time for that to change. It's up to you.
Saturday, March 03, 2012
Its Sunday night and I'm sitting at home. Alone. I don't enjoy it. It's difficult to be alone, especially in a city where personal space is a luxury you almost have to pay for.
If i'm alone its my fault I suppose. And that's not me being depressing, that's fact.
I'm in a mess right now. I really am. I got overwhelmed last year by a lot of things and I let that get the best of me and now here I am. Months away from 30, on academic probation, mostly jobless and near debt. I'm taking a last chance shot at the one job/life I want desperately despite the fact that it may not want me. Am I crazy? I must be, becuase I haven't fully given up hope for some reason.
I sit here, alone, feeling sorry for myself. Then I look at what happened in the Midwest friday, where whole towns have been erased and it makes me angry at myself. Angry that I let my own problems get the best of me when people the nation...the world over suffer far greater than myself. And yet they will persevere.
I know that these people will help others, pick up and push on because thats what we as humans should do when faced with adversity. But then I see that a lot of us have become so self important, so self involved that we don't even realize it. Geeky as it may sound, Darth Vader said it best; "Don't be to proud of this technological terror you've constructed."
Modern technology is a wonderful thing yes, but I fear it has taken us to far away from ourselves. We are losing the battle for originality, for imagination, We are losing it to a screen, a wire, a button and soon enough, we will be so far lost that there will be no way back. Everything is moving at such a brisk pace that what was new yesterday will be old tomorrow. How did we become this way in such a short period of time?
We are a great people. We're better than this. Way better. No one has a piece of Serenity anymore, everyone has to be alert and at the ready even when they sleep. No one knows the value of laying in the grass on a sunny day,staring at the clouds and daydreaming for a few hours anymore. No one remembers how peaceful it was to sit by the window on a cool day and let the sun warm you while you read a great book(And yes I mean that thing with the pages. Made from paper.) with a cup of hot chocolate. Few people remember a time when you could sit around the radio and listen to music.
Yes, I know, i'm waxing nostalgic, yearning for simple pleasures, but is that too much to ask for? I don't think it is. At least every once in a while.
I don't know, maybe i'm just a lonely guy wishing for better days. I know i'm not the easiest person to know, and i'm sorry for that, but one thing i'm not sorry for is how I think.
If i'm alone its my fault I suppose. And that's not me being depressing, that's fact.
I'm in a mess right now. I really am. I got overwhelmed last year by a lot of things and I let that get the best of me and now here I am. Months away from 30, on academic probation, mostly jobless and near debt. I'm taking a last chance shot at the one job/life I want desperately despite the fact that it may not want me. Am I crazy? I must be, becuase I haven't fully given up hope for some reason.
I sit here, alone, feeling sorry for myself. Then I look at what happened in the Midwest friday, where whole towns have been erased and it makes me angry at myself. Angry that I let my own problems get the best of me when people the nation...the world over suffer far greater than myself. And yet they will persevere.
I know that these people will help others, pick up and push on because thats what we as humans should do when faced with adversity. But then I see that a lot of us have become so self important, so self involved that we don't even realize it. Geeky as it may sound, Darth Vader said it best; "Don't be to proud of this technological terror you've constructed."
Modern technology is a wonderful thing yes, but I fear it has taken us to far away from ourselves. We are losing the battle for originality, for imagination, We are losing it to a screen, a wire, a button and soon enough, we will be so far lost that there will be no way back. Everything is moving at such a brisk pace that what was new yesterday will be old tomorrow. How did we become this way in such a short period of time?
We are a great people. We're better than this. Way better. No one has a piece of Serenity anymore, everyone has to be alert and at the ready even when they sleep. No one knows the value of laying in the grass on a sunny day,staring at the clouds and daydreaming for a few hours anymore. No one remembers how peaceful it was to sit by the window on a cool day and let the sun warm you while you read a great book(And yes I mean that thing with the pages. Made from paper.) with a cup of hot chocolate. Few people remember a time when you could sit around the radio and listen to music.
Yes, I know, i'm waxing nostalgic, yearning for simple pleasures, but is that too much to ask for? I don't think it is. At least every once in a while.
I don't know, maybe i'm just a lonely guy wishing for better days. I know i'm not the easiest person to know, and i'm sorry for that, but one thing i'm not sorry for is how I think.
Friday, December 30, 2011
As I traversed the demolition site of what will soon be the former U.S. Navy home port today for a photo project, I was struck by something. The site, as it appeared today, with debris piles everywhere and heavy construction equipment taking down the remains of buildings...it reminded me greatly of Ground Zero.
That 10 years ago, the same home port site was the location where many rescue and recovery workers took a brief respite from the horrors of the pit made it even more...fitting I guess? The whole experience set me on edge a bit.
So much has happened in the past decade that it almost doesn't seem like its been that long. Hell, so much has happened in this past year that it hardly seems real.
Feels like just yesterday I was in a snowy parking lot with a few friends, some old appliances and a sledgehammer...embarking on another crazy photo project. Now I get to wear a hardhat and roam an active construction site.
This has been a blur of a year. People that I thought i'd never see again have come back. And one evil went away forever.
I was recording a podcast with my friend the first night of May when I got the text. Instantly I felt a euphoria and release that everyone had been waiting to feel for a decade. I jumped and danced like the idiot I am until I remembered the loss and remembered that nothing will bring anyone back. It was a night filled with such conflicting emotion.
5 months later, a couple came into my job, there son had been a firefighter who was lost on September 11th and I discussed with them how best to view it. While I don't remember the full context of what they said, I sensed in them a feeling of...not acceptance, but of almost coming to peace with it all. They would never forget, nor will.
Our generation will carry this with us till the end of our days. How we chose to carry it is up to each of us individually. I will chose to use the lessons learned in as positive a way as I possibly can. I know that is what those that we loved and lost would want for not only me, but for all of us.
While I looked upon those early May days with conflict...I felt nothing but pride, albeit bittersweet- in July, when NASA's final space shuttle mission took off with Atlantis commander Christopher Fergusons rally call of "Let's light this fire one more time," I once again cheered like an idiot, proud not only to be an American, but to be a geek, for if it wasn't for a buncha crazed science nuts, we may never have had the chance to ride rockets.
I say proud to be an American because I am. And its not about whose dick is bigger or country songs or nutso politicians. I say i'm proud to be an American because I am. Look, yes, the economy is in turmoil. Lots of people are out of work. Reality TV is still a dangerous threat to human intelligence, but you know what? When Tuscaloosa, Alabama and Joplin Missouri were ripped apart by tornadoes, people from around the country helped. They didn't wait, they just did. They donated, they drove down to search for people, they put people up in their homes. When nature showed its worst, we showed our best. We're a country that can have the largest water balloon fight and enjoy the total unabashed silliness of it all just because.
I think that is part of the reason a lot of people are in a funk. Is no one knows how to just have fun anymore. There has to be a reason behind it, there has to be meaning to everything, and yeah even i'm guilty of thinking that way, but at least I can admit it. Whatever happened to just doing something for the sake of being a kid again? Whats the harm in going back to whats good and worked for us every once and a while?
When I look back at the past year I think i'll at least say I had a bit more fun and enjoyed my friendships more.
That actually was a big part of the year for me, the whole idea of friendship was pretty big. One of my mothers favorite movies was "It's a Wonderful Life" and one of the quotes I will always, always take away from that movie is "Remember, no one is a failure who has friends."
Without my friends I don't know how I woulda made it through this year. While it may sound corny or hackney, its true, you guys really were there for me at the worst moments and shared the best ones. For that i'll be forever grateful. Be it trudging through the snowy woods, random impromptu in-house barbecues, or marching up 6th ave dressed like Dan Aykroyd, you guys made it an excellent year, and i'll be looking forward to whatever lies ahead...even if it is a pie in the face that is actually Ranch dressing.
This was an easy year, nor was this easy to write, but it was cleansing, and I think at this time of year everyone feels a little bit like that, like the fighter who took one helluva beating but pulled it out in the end. I think part of the reason is because everyone has a little bit of New York in them, and if there is one thing I know about this city its that its a stubborn town, but if you make it here, you really truly can make it anywhere.
So to those reading this, wherever you may be, thank you. Thank you for your friendship, for your time, but most important, thank you for being yourself. I'll look forward to seeing you in 2012 and beyond, and you know what? I'll bring the bacon.
Stay safe everyone!
That 10 years ago, the same home port site was the location where many rescue and recovery workers took a brief respite from the horrors of the pit made it even more...fitting I guess? The whole experience set me on edge a bit.
So much has happened in the past decade that it almost doesn't seem like its been that long. Hell, so much has happened in this past year that it hardly seems real.
Feels like just yesterday I was in a snowy parking lot with a few friends, some old appliances and a sledgehammer...embarking on another crazy photo project. Now I get to wear a hardhat and roam an active construction site.
This has been a blur of a year. People that I thought i'd never see again have come back. And one evil went away forever.
I was recording a podcast with my friend the first night of May when I got the text. Instantly I felt a euphoria and release that everyone had been waiting to feel for a decade. I jumped and danced like the idiot I am until I remembered the loss and remembered that nothing will bring anyone back. It was a night filled with such conflicting emotion.
5 months later, a couple came into my job, there son had been a firefighter who was lost on September 11th and I discussed with them how best to view it. While I don't remember the full context of what they said, I sensed in them a feeling of...not acceptance, but of almost coming to peace with it all. They would never forget, nor will.
Our generation will carry this with us till the end of our days. How we chose to carry it is up to each of us individually. I will chose to use the lessons learned in as positive a way as I possibly can. I know that is what those that we loved and lost would want for not only me, but for all of us.
While I looked upon those early May days with conflict...I felt nothing but pride, albeit bittersweet- in July, when NASA's final space shuttle mission took off with Atlantis commander Christopher Fergusons rally call of "Let's light this fire one more time," I once again cheered like an idiot, proud not only to be an American, but to be a geek, for if it wasn't for a buncha crazed science nuts, we may never have had the chance to ride rockets.
I say proud to be an American because I am. And its not about whose dick is bigger or country songs or nutso politicians. I say i'm proud to be an American because I am. Look, yes, the economy is in turmoil. Lots of people are out of work. Reality TV is still a dangerous threat to human intelligence, but you know what? When Tuscaloosa, Alabama and Joplin Missouri were ripped apart by tornadoes, people from around the country helped. They didn't wait, they just did. They donated, they drove down to search for people, they put people up in their homes. When nature showed its worst, we showed our best. We're a country that can have the largest water balloon fight and enjoy the total unabashed silliness of it all just because.
I think that is part of the reason a lot of people are in a funk. Is no one knows how to just have fun anymore. There has to be a reason behind it, there has to be meaning to everything, and yeah even i'm guilty of thinking that way, but at least I can admit it. Whatever happened to just doing something for the sake of being a kid again? Whats the harm in going back to whats good and worked for us every once and a while?
When I look back at the past year I think i'll at least say I had a bit more fun and enjoyed my friendships more.
That actually was a big part of the year for me, the whole idea of friendship was pretty big. One of my mothers favorite movies was "It's a Wonderful Life" and one of the quotes I will always, always take away from that movie is "Remember, no one is a failure who has friends."
Without my friends I don't know how I woulda made it through this year. While it may sound corny or hackney, its true, you guys really were there for me at the worst moments and shared the best ones. For that i'll be forever grateful. Be it trudging through the snowy woods, random impromptu in-house barbecues, or marching up 6th ave dressed like Dan Aykroyd, you guys made it an excellent year, and i'll be looking forward to whatever lies ahead...even if it is a pie in the face that is actually Ranch dressing.
This was an easy year, nor was this easy to write, but it was cleansing, and I think at this time of year everyone feels a little bit like that, like the fighter who took one helluva beating but pulled it out in the end. I think part of the reason is because everyone has a little bit of New York in them, and if there is one thing I know about this city its that its a stubborn town, but if you make it here, you really truly can make it anywhere.
So to those reading this, wherever you may be, thank you. Thank you for your friendship, for your time, but most important, thank you for being yourself. I'll look forward to seeing you in 2012 and beyond, and you know what? I'll bring the bacon.
Stay safe everyone!
Saturday, November 19, 2011
I wanted to think of something poetic and insightful to start this off but nothing came to mind easily. This is a problem i've been dealing with, with a frightening bit of momentum a lot lately.
My mind doesn't want to shut off. Ever. Even now as I type this all I want to do is everything. I want to put away my laundry, I want to look at the index card that is a foot away, I want to read a book that I know i'll only make it through a few pages of until my brain goes off on some irritating tangent into who knows where.
I want to rest. Truly rest, mind, body and soul, but that won't happen.
I'm kept awake at night not just by these relentless thoughts, but by depressing realizations. A little over two weeks ago, I lay awake in my bed staring up at my ceiling examining things. I'm pushing thirty, I'm back at school yes, going for a degree yes...but it just seems overwhelmingly more complicated now then it ever did before. Not to say that it was supposed to be a cakewalk, but this...its different. Its hard but its not. Maybe my brain is making it out to be harder then it really is.
I have a learning disability. At first the doctors thought it may have been A.D.D., but just to be sure they ran me through a gamut of testing. EEG, MRI, Catscan, CT Scan(same thing?), Memorization tests, blood tests, Brain scan, cognitive tests. I was examined as though I were an astronaut. The diagnosis? "There definitely is something wrong, there definitely is a disability...but we don't know what it is. You've compensated for it in someways but not in others." And that is all they could say.
That frustrates me every day. Not being able to focus on things is not as "funny" as one may imagine.
It is with these thoughts in mind I go back to that night two weeks or so ago. As I lay there, the thoughts continued to stream in like waterfall. Will I be going for this degree for the rest of my life? Will the job that I really want ever be available to me? Will my pursuit of my other passion in life ever be taken seriously? What will this holiday be like with less money then before? Can I continue to handle two...no...two and a half jobs? Everything, all at once came crashing into my brain.
For a brief, stupid, fleeting moment, the thought, keep in mind I said THOUGHT of something stupid and selfish crossed into my mind. I quickly dismissed the thought...but the fact that the thought even entered my brain upset me a great, great deal. Its a thought I will never have again. Ever.
Most nights I come home to an empty house, burdened and tired by the day that has passed and the ones to come, when all I want is to just clear my mind for a little while. To re-charge my batteries, but there is simply too much going on up there. Do you know how painful it is to come home to an empty house and to be alone with your thoughts sometimes? And yes, i'll admit it, I sometimes get envious of others happiness, especially when it comes so easy. I'm pretty sure others have felt that way too. I don't like being alone.
Maybe this is all mellow dramatic, maybe some will say "you aren't making any sense, why are you even talking?" Well. I don't know how to help you there. This is me. This is as real as it gets and right now i'm struggling a bit and this is the best way I can think of to at least try and clear my brain of some of the clutter.
Do others have it harder then me? Absolutely. Without a doubt. I'm no more or less special then anyone else in regards to this.
Many see me, they see my car, they see my ideas and my hopes and dreams and I feel many don't take me seriously. Do I let this get to me? I want to be cool and edgy and say "No man, i'm above that." But i'm not. Every so often, sometimes more often then not, it bothers me.
At my core, I like to think of myself as a carefree "who gives a damn" kinda person. And most of the time I am, but that doesn't mean I don't have a brain, that doesn't mean I don't have intelligent thoughts and it certainly doesn't mean i'm going to sit by and let myself get walked over.
I didn't have a clear cut full on plan in mind when I sat down to put these thoughts out, and I still don't. I've hit backspace and delete a few times, but for the most part this is as raw as i'm gonna get, and if you don't like that, and by you, i'm not referring to one specific person, but if you don't like that, then I don't know what to tell you.
Maybe some of you will understand what i'm going through maybe not. But for now it just feels a little bit better to get these thoughts out in the open.
My mind doesn't want to shut off. Ever. Even now as I type this all I want to do is everything. I want to put away my laundry, I want to look at the index card that is a foot away, I want to read a book that I know i'll only make it through a few pages of until my brain goes off on some irritating tangent into who knows where.
I want to rest. Truly rest, mind, body and soul, but that won't happen.
I'm kept awake at night not just by these relentless thoughts, but by depressing realizations. A little over two weeks ago, I lay awake in my bed staring up at my ceiling examining things. I'm pushing thirty, I'm back at school yes, going for a degree yes...but it just seems overwhelmingly more complicated now then it ever did before. Not to say that it was supposed to be a cakewalk, but this...its different. Its hard but its not. Maybe my brain is making it out to be harder then it really is.
I have a learning disability. At first the doctors thought it may have been A.D.D., but just to be sure they ran me through a gamut of testing. EEG, MRI, Catscan, CT Scan(same thing?), Memorization tests, blood tests, Brain scan, cognitive tests. I was examined as though I were an astronaut. The diagnosis? "There definitely is something wrong, there definitely is a disability...but we don't know what it is. You've compensated for it in someways but not in others." And that is all they could say.
That frustrates me every day. Not being able to focus on things is not as "funny" as one may imagine.
It is with these thoughts in mind I go back to that night two weeks or so ago. As I lay there, the thoughts continued to stream in like waterfall. Will I be going for this degree for the rest of my life? Will the job that I really want ever be available to me? Will my pursuit of my other passion in life ever be taken seriously? What will this holiday be like with less money then before? Can I continue to handle two...no...two and a half jobs? Everything, all at once came crashing into my brain.
For a brief, stupid, fleeting moment, the thought, keep in mind I said THOUGHT of something stupid and selfish crossed into my mind. I quickly dismissed the thought...but the fact that the thought even entered my brain upset me a great, great deal. Its a thought I will never have again. Ever.
Most nights I come home to an empty house, burdened and tired by the day that has passed and the ones to come, when all I want is to just clear my mind for a little while. To re-charge my batteries, but there is simply too much going on up there. Do you know how painful it is to come home to an empty house and to be alone with your thoughts sometimes? And yes, i'll admit it, I sometimes get envious of others happiness, especially when it comes so easy. I'm pretty sure others have felt that way too. I don't like being alone.
Maybe this is all mellow dramatic, maybe some will say "you aren't making any sense, why are you even talking?" Well. I don't know how to help you there. This is me. This is as real as it gets and right now i'm struggling a bit and this is the best way I can think of to at least try and clear my brain of some of the clutter.
Do others have it harder then me? Absolutely. Without a doubt. I'm no more or less special then anyone else in regards to this.
Many see me, they see my car, they see my ideas and my hopes and dreams and I feel many don't take me seriously. Do I let this get to me? I want to be cool and edgy and say "No man, i'm above that." But i'm not. Every so often, sometimes more often then not, it bothers me.
At my core, I like to think of myself as a carefree "who gives a damn" kinda person. And most of the time I am, but that doesn't mean I don't have a brain, that doesn't mean I don't have intelligent thoughts and it certainly doesn't mean i'm going to sit by and let myself get walked over.
I didn't have a clear cut full on plan in mind when I sat down to put these thoughts out, and I still don't. I've hit backspace and delete a few times, but for the most part this is as raw as i'm gonna get, and if you don't like that, and by you, i'm not referring to one specific person, but if you don't like that, then I don't know what to tell you.
Maybe some of you will understand what i'm going through maybe not. But for now it just feels a little bit better to get these thoughts out in the open.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Eight years ago tonight was the worst night of my life. Eight years ago tonight, I lost my mother.
It was the continuation of an already awful year and also the continuation of what has become - to me at least, the reason why i hate the whole month of September. Nothing good seems to come of it, so, this year I decided to throw as much on to my schedule as I possibly could in order to keep my mind off the fact that "hey, its the worst month of the year."
Its almost, and I stress almost working....too good. I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically spent. I just want this month over.
When I look back to that time, eight years ago, it still seems real. Still hurts. A lot of people would come up to me and say "this is the way she would have wanted it." And i find that hard to beleive. I got a lot of that back then. People coming up to me, some of whom I didn't know, offering advice when I didn't want it, people who barely knew me trying to psycho analyze the hell outta me when most of the time I just wanted to be left alone.
The people who I wanted around me the most were there....except for one, and he knows who he is.
Still, some people pushed to hard, and it really honestly just irritated the fuck out of me to no end. One person though, shone through. This friend of mine came to me that night as I sat out on my front lawn just staring up into the sky and hugged me, and then just sat with me for hours, neither of us said anything, we just sat there. And that meant more to me then this one person will ever realize. Saying nothing said it all. I felt so at peace at that moment.
Thats when I realized that some friends are more then that, they're family, always will be. However many times we all bitch and moan, however many times we say horrible, hurtful things to each other, there will always be the all night car rides, the unplanned adventures into the unknown, the random movie marathons, the photo-hunts, the impromtu barbecues, house paintings, baseball games and countless other things that I will always be thankful for.
There are some friends that i've known for over 20 years that are without a doubt just plain family at this point. There are some people i've known for weeks that could someday be just as close. Hell there are some that I haven't met yet. Doesn't matter. Each one is special and unique and I love all of em.
People who barely know me come up to me every once in a while and say "you're so creative just like your mother." and at times that gnaws at me. I'm not her. I'm me. This is the way she'd want it. Every parent wants their child to be unique and different. My closest friends get this. And this is why I love the hell outta em. My best friends know me better then I know myself.
This rant is not just about me remembering my mother, its about me thanking every one of my friends who has helped me get through the past eight years.
Friendship is probably the most powerful connection you can have with someone. In fact, it might be the single most powerful force in the universe.
Thank You.
It was the continuation of an already awful year and also the continuation of what has become - to me at least, the reason why i hate the whole month of September. Nothing good seems to come of it, so, this year I decided to throw as much on to my schedule as I possibly could in order to keep my mind off the fact that "hey, its the worst month of the year."
Its almost, and I stress almost working....too good. I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically spent. I just want this month over.
When I look back to that time, eight years ago, it still seems real. Still hurts. A lot of people would come up to me and say "this is the way she would have wanted it." And i find that hard to beleive. I got a lot of that back then. People coming up to me, some of whom I didn't know, offering advice when I didn't want it, people who barely knew me trying to psycho analyze the hell outta me when most of the time I just wanted to be left alone.
The people who I wanted around me the most were there....except for one, and he knows who he is.
Still, some people pushed to hard, and it really honestly just irritated the fuck out of me to no end. One person though, shone through. This friend of mine came to me that night as I sat out on my front lawn just staring up into the sky and hugged me, and then just sat with me for hours, neither of us said anything, we just sat there. And that meant more to me then this one person will ever realize. Saying nothing said it all. I felt so at peace at that moment.
Thats when I realized that some friends are more then that, they're family, always will be. However many times we all bitch and moan, however many times we say horrible, hurtful things to each other, there will always be the all night car rides, the unplanned adventures into the unknown, the random movie marathons, the photo-hunts, the impromtu barbecues, house paintings, baseball games and countless other things that I will always be thankful for.
There are some friends that i've known for over 20 years that are without a doubt just plain family at this point. There are some people i've known for weeks that could someday be just as close. Hell there are some that I haven't met yet. Doesn't matter. Each one is special and unique and I love all of em.
People who barely know me come up to me every once in a while and say "you're so creative just like your mother." and at times that gnaws at me. I'm not her. I'm me. This is the way she'd want it. Every parent wants their child to be unique and different. My closest friends get this. And this is why I love the hell outta em. My best friends know me better then I know myself.
This rant is not just about me remembering my mother, its about me thanking every one of my friends who has helped me get through the past eight years.
Friendship is probably the most powerful connection you can have with someone. In fact, it might be the single most powerful force in the universe.
Thank You.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
As I pulled into my driveway tonight, I got out of my car and looked up at the Staten Island Night sky. For the most part it was the same as it's been for the past week or two. Mostly Cloudy. There was something different this night however.
Its the same different that is actually familiar this night and tomorrow. Twin beams of light reaching skyward.
I can't fathom...cannot wrap my mind around the fact it's been a decade. That to me just seems cruel. That the world has gone by in such a blur.
I'm sorry to do this to you again, but I need to talk this out in some way otherwise I might lose it. I might do that anyway.
For some reason i'm being hit hard this time around and I don't know why. Maybe it's because of the overwhelming fear that people will think; "Well it's been a decade now, we don't have to give a damn anymore." And those people make me physically angry. You don't forget just because its convenient.
This happened, it was real, it had substance. Terrifying, painful friggin substance. And there are some moments where its just utterly unbearable.
I sat on the ferry today, on my way to work, and it all just started to slam me more so then ever before, and all I wanted to do was cry my eyes out. But I couldn't, not there. Then I got to work, and was reminded of it all. Day. Long. And I wanted to cry my eyes out. And now, I'm home, and I want to cry my eyes out. I have tears right there to the point my eyes are blurry.
It's not fucking fair. It's not. This never should have happened. Innocent, good people shouldn't suffer. Its not god damned fair.
No one should ever have to see a drawing made by a child that says "Daddy, please come home, we miss you." No one.
All I wanna do is cry my brains out right now, but that won't get me anywhere, it won't gain back whats been lost. So I do what I learned how to do best after that day. I push forward the best I can.
I remember a few hours after it happened, I went to the only store by my house that was open and got bottled water. I wanted to be ready for what was next, I wanted to fight it, whatever "it" was. I wanted to help. I wanted to show I won't take this lying down.
And now, ten years later, i'm still fighting. Why? Because I know there is hope in the world. Despite how horrible and awful things can be, there is always a better tomorrow on the horizon.
Recently I found out that very close friends of mine are expecting another child. These friends are some of the most kind-hearted, grounded people I know, and I had the great pleasure of, a few months back, being present at a small gathering at their home, where I saw their kids, and lemme tell you, these kids give me hope. They're not your typical smart mouthed bratty kids.
These kids are amazing, funny, intelligent and absolutely adorable and are raised by equally amazing, funny and intelligent parents. They all have a smile that is genuine and good. One that doesn't judge, one that doesn't hate, one that is simply put, beautiful.
When I think of these friends of mine, It gives me an extra hitch in my giddy up, it makes me want what they have, and what they have is what evil will never take away. They have a seemingly never ending capacity for good, and a hope that tomorrow, the sun will rise.
And its that hope, that strength, that they've instilled in me, and that i'd like to instill in anyone who reads this, that no matter what evils and tragedies you face, no matter how much the world beats you down, knocks you over and kicks you to the curb, you will always be given that chance to make it better, you'll always have a chance to bring it back, to show the dark there is light, there is hope.
There is always hope. It's a powerful thing, more powerful then anything else.
I just hope I can make it through tomorrow with dry eyes.
Its the same different that is actually familiar this night and tomorrow. Twin beams of light reaching skyward.
I can't fathom...cannot wrap my mind around the fact it's been a decade. That to me just seems cruel. That the world has gone by in such a blur.
I'm sorry to do this to you again, but I need to talk this out in some way otherwise I might lose it. I might do that anyway.
For some reason i'm being hit hard this time around and I don't know why. Maybe it's because of the overwhelming fear that people will think; "Well it's been a decade now, we don't have to give a damn anymore." And those people make me physically angry. You don't forget just because its convenient.
This happened, it was real, it had substance. Terrifying, painful friggin substance. And there are some moments where its just utterly unbearable.
I sat on the ferry today, on my way to work, and it all just started to slam me more so then ever before, and all I wanted to do was cry my eyes out. But I couldn't, not there. Then I got to work, and was reminded of it all. Day. Long. And I wanted to cry my eyes out. And now, I'm home, and I want to cry my eyes out. I have tears right there to the point my eyes are blurry.
It's not fucking fair. It's not. This never should have happened. Innocent, good people shouldn't suffer. Its not god damned fair.
No one should ever have to see a drawing made by a child that says "Daddy, please come home, we miss you." No one.
All I wanna do is cry my brains out right now, but that won't get me anywhere, it won't gain back whats been lost. So I do what I learned how to do best after that day. I push forward the best I can.
I remember a few hours after it happened, I went to the only store by my house that was open and got bottled water. I wanted to be ready for what was next, I wanted to fight it, whatever "it" was. I wanted to help. I wanted to show I won't take this lying down.
And now, ten years later, i'm still fighting. Why? Because I know there is hope in the world. Despite how horrible and awful things can be, there is always a better tomorrow on the horizon.
Recently I found out that very close friends of mine are expecting another child. These friends are some of the most kind-hearted, grounded people I know, and I had the great pleasure of, a few months back, being present at a small gathering at their home, where I saw their kids, and lemme tell you, these kids give me hope. They're not your typical smart mouthed bratty kids.
These kids are amazing, funny, intelligent and absolutely adorable and are raised by equally amazing, funny and intelligent parents. They all have a smile that is genuine and good. One that doesn't judge, one that doesn't hate, one that is simply put, beautiful.
When I think of these friends of mine, It gives me an extra hitch in my giddy up, it makes me want what they have, and what they have is what evil will never take away. They have a seemingly never ending capacity for good, and a hope that tomorrow, the sun will rise.
And its that hope, that strength, that they've instilled in me, and that i'd like to instill in anyone who reads this, that no matter what evils and tragedies you face, no matter how much the world beats you down, knocks you over and kicks you to the curb, you will always be given that chance to make it better, you'll always have a chance to bring it back, to show the dark there is light, there is hope.
There is always hope. It's a powerful thing, more powerful then anything else.
I just hope I can make it through tomorrow with dry eyes.
Friday, July 08, 2011
Liftoff
A few hours ago, the space shuttle Atlantis began her final journey into the heavens. And as the craft roared to life on the back of more then a million pounds of thrust and went trans-sonic, I watched in amazement as once again-albeit for the final time, this machine carried four more brave legends into the surly bonds of the unforgiving black, in a quest for that hopefully will never end.
The shuttle program has been around longer then me, so naturally I grew up watching launch after launch on TV.
The vehicles, Enterprise, Columbia, Challenger, Discovery, Atlantis and Endeavor were simply...marvels. These were not simply vehicles propelled by rocket fuel. They were the ark into the great unknown, they were our generations Columbus fleet, seeking out new lands in which to advance human ingenuity.
The fact that the shuttle is the most complex piece of machinery built by humanity is astounding. I can't even begin to fathom how a human mind could control something so complicated. I once read that each shuttle orbiter has more then 200 miles of wiring in it. For something that's smaller then the Statue of Liberty, that's mighty impressive. This is one of the many things compel me and astound me about not just the shuttle, but the space program itself.
Some may mock the shuttle program, others may call it too costly, but to those naysayers I ask you to look into the eyes of any...everyone of the million people down on the humid Florida beaches today, anyone watching on television, anyone crowded around a radio what they think and I guarantee you that your cynical view will be met with true and unbridled optimism and hope.
You see, its not just rocket fuel that fired those shuttles into orbit, its the hard work of millions, yes I said millions of people...be it the people who work on the landing gear in North Carolina, the ones who work on the rocket boosters in Utah or the folks in California who work on the heat tiles that are vital to keeping the shuttle intact in the crushing pressures of space...and the intense heat of re-entry.
NASA and The space shuttle program aren't just line items in the U.S. budget, they're the blood, sweat, tears and determination of this countries people.
For every kid staring out their telescope in their backyard to the ones damn near blowing their hands off with model rockets in a field(guilty), the U.S. Space program is more. It's about dreams coming true. Thats one of the key things i've learned watching the shuttle program mature over the years, its that dreams do come true, especially if you put your all into it.
The shuttles broke not just the sound barrier but the color and gender barrier, showing that in space, it didn't matter if you were female or male, it didn't matter if you were black, white, Asian, Hispanic, Jewish, or whatever...all that mattered was your imagination, drive and determination, which is the way it should be here on the ground.
The shuttle program helped erase a cold war and joined rivals not in conflict, but in the exploration for a better tomorrow.
The shuttle program, these people with their sheer grit put a nation on its back and pushed through unimaginable tragedies to give us hope and to let us dream. We should never forget that. They use the term "Godspeed" a lot in liftoffs. It means to wish for success and fortune for one setting out on an adventure. And what an adventure it has been.
When that adventure concludes about 2 weeks from now, it will not be an ending, it will simply be a page turned in the never ending story of our desire to explore and dream.
The shuttle program has been around longer then me, so naturally I grew up watching launch after launch on TV.
The vehicles, Enterprise, Columbia, Challenger, Discovery, Atlantis and Endeavor were simply...marvels. These were not simply vehicles propelled by rocket fuel. They were the ark into the great unknown, they were our generations Columbus fleet, seeking out new lands in which to advance human ingenuity.
The fact that the shuttle is the most complex piece of machinery built by humanity is astounding. I can't even begin to fathom how a human mind could control something so complicated. I once read that each shuttle orbiter has more then 200 miles of wiring in it. For something that's smaller then the Statue of Liberty, that's mighty impressive. This is one of the many things compel me and astound me about not just the shuttle, but the space program itself.
Some may mock the shuttle program, others may call it too costly, but to those naysayers I ask you to look into the eyes of any...everyone of the million people down on the humid Florida beaches today, anyone watching on television, anyone crowded around a radio what they think and I guarantee you that your cynical view will be met with true and unbridled optimism and hope.
You see, its not just rocket fuel that fired those shuttles into orbit, its the hard work of millions, yes I said millions of people...be it the people who work on the landing gear in North Carolina, the ones who work on the rocket boosters in Utah or the folks in California who work on the heat tiles that are vital to keeping the shuttle intact in the crushing pressures of space...and the intense heat of re-entry.
NASA and The space shuttle program aren't just line items in the U.S. budget, they're the blood, sweat, tears and determination of this countries people.
For every kid staring out their telescope in their backyard to the ones damn near blowing their hands off with model rockets in a field(guilty), the U.S. Space program is more. It's about dreams coming true. Thats one of the key things i've learned watching the shuttle program mature over the years, its that dreams do come true, especially if you put your all into it.
The shuttles broke not just the sound barrier but the color and gender barrier, showing that in space, it didn't matter if you were female or male, it didn't matter if you were black, white, Asian, Hispanic, Jewish, or whatever...all that mattered was your imagination, drive and determination, which is the way it should be here on the ground.
The shuttle program helped erase a cold war and joined rivals not in conflict, but in the exploration for a better tomorrow.
The shuttle program, these people with their sheer grit put a nation on its back and pushed through unimaginable tragedies to give us hope and to let us dream. We should never forget that. They use the term "Godspeed" a lot in liftoffs. It means to wish for success and fortune for one setting out on an adventure. And what an adventure it has been.
When that adventure concludes about 2 weeks from now, it will not be an ending, it will simply be a page turned in the never ending story of our desire to explore and dream.
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